“ELVIS, is that you?”
Rousing from a catnap, Etienne Ballard raised his grizzled head, listening. Only the barest whisper stirred the purple twilight at the Harbor Home Retirement Center. With a sigh, he set his rocking chair in motion again and selected a caramel-filled chocolate from the enormous box on the table beside him. A copy of the Whiskey Bay Press sat beside the box.
Etienne scanned the headlines.
Paper Changes Hands. Lauren And Tiny Herbert New Editors.
Marie Landry Announces Candidacy For Mayor.
Nabors And Prejean Indicted, EPA Vows Complete Cleanup.
Chamber Plans “I Was Hoaxed” UFO Festival For Next Year.
Etienne took a bite of candy, savoring the sweetness.
“Awfully nice of those kids to remember an old man,” he said conversationally to the empty porch. “Especially what with all the excitement about Ciel’s selling her novel and then them heading off on their honeymoon to Brazil. That Jack must be a smart fellow, getting all that money to study pond scum.”
He cocked his head, listening expectantly, then continued.
“You boys ever been to Brazil, Elvis? No, I ‘spect not. Best little vacation spot on the planet right here. Got a little carried away this year, though, didn’t you?” Etienne cackled with laughter. “Shake, rattle and roll. Gets ‘em every time!”
“Mr. Ballard, time to come in.” A white-uniformed nurse appeared at Etienne’s side. She cupped his elbow, helping him to his feet, a puzzled expression on her face. “You talking to someone?”
“Just a couple of very old, very dear friends of mine, Warden.”
The nurse’s smile was indulgent. “I see. Oh, nocandy! Mr. Ballard, you shouldn’t!”
He winked, picked up the box, then offered her his arm. “Don’t tell, and I’ll give you the whiskey-filled ones.”
“Mr. Ballard, you are a scandal!” Walking slowly, they moved toward the entrance door. “Well, maybe just one…”
***FINE GENTLEMAN***
***AND A GOOD HOST***
***PROVIDED EXCELLENT ENTERTAINMENT THIS YEAR***
***YES, BUT I’LL NEVER UNDERSTAND EARTHLINGS, COSMO***
***ME, NEITHER, ELVIS. LET’S GO HOME***