WHILE MAMA WAS GETTING READY FOR WORK, I was following her from room co room telling her bits and pieces of my night.
“Sounds like things are getting pretty serious between the two of you.”
“They are, Mama. Elvis asked me to marry him last night.”
“He did? Anytime soon?”
“In about three years.”
“Good. That will give you time enough to get to know each other better.”
I never did understand why she showed so little enthusiasm. Maybe she too had her doubts. She gave me a big hug and left for work. I then called Pat to tell her the news. She wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“He’s crazy about you, June. Everybody can see that! When’s the big day?”
“Not for at least three years.”
“Good! That will give you enough time to know if that’s what you really want.”
“I feel like I’m talking to my mother. Pat. She said the same thing. Damn! Am I the only one that’s excited, or what?”
“No, June, I’m happy for you. It’s just that you’re all caught up in this love thing, and you’ve only known Elvis for a short time …”
“That’s true. Well, anyway, he’s coming to pick me up in a few minutes. We don’t have any plans, I guess we’ll just hang around the Hack house. Come on over after a wliile. And Pat, don’t mention this to another person, okay?”
“My lips are sealed, June — and about the engagement, Congrats! I knew you’d be the one,”
As soon as I hung up the phone Mrs. Manuel called. Her little girl kept telling her that Elvis came to see her last night.
“June, that’s all she’s been talking about. I thought she’d been dreaming for sure. I was only out of her room long enough to go to the nurse’s station and get a cup of coffee. I was just humoring her until I opened the drawer in the nightstand and saw the record. “
“Carole wasn’t dreaming, Mrs. Manuel. We did go to see her last night. She talked to Elvis for a moment, then fell asleep.” There was a period of silence, and then I heard her whimpering.
“Hug him for me, June. Tell him I think he’s a great person, and Carole and I both love him.”
“I think he’s great too, Mrs. Manuel, I’ll tell him you called. Kiss Carole for us.” When I got in the car I kissed Elvis on both cheeks.
“One’s from Mrs. Manuel, and the other one’s from Carole. And this one is from me,” I said, kissing him softly on the lips. “Because I love you.”
“I love you too, June.”
Carole Manuel died on January 10, 1957, six months after Elvis’s visit.
When we arrived at the Hack house, the boys were all out front, loading the BB guns and getting ready to shoot the left—over records. We left the gang throwing darts in the living room and went upstairs for what he called “quiet time.” It was early afternoon when we stretched out across the bed. Neither of us iiad had much sleep the night before and we were exhausted. We fell asleep and didn’t wake up until well after dark.
While we were sleeping, Buddy had picked up a portable barbecue grill and all the makings for hot dogs. We didn’t have any pots, so Buddy had the opened can of chili on the grill along with the foot—long wieners. When we went down to join everyone, Elvis naturally picked the one that was charred the blackest. With mustard and chili running down our chins, we looked like a pack of ravenous wolves.
Buddy had also picked up a giant—sized, ice—cold watermelon, but we had no knife to cut it with, so he raised the big melon over his head and dropped it on the concrete driveway, making it burst into pieces. Elvis and I stayed in the background, watching as everyone dug out the heart and had a food fight with the rest. When the watermelon fight was over, they peeled off their sticky shirts and ran to the hotel pool.
Wide awake after his five—hour nap and wanting to get away from the boys, Elvis ran in the house to get the car keys.
“Let’s get the hell out of here, baby, before they get back.”
I didn’t pay much attention to where we were going until Elvis rounded the curve and pulled up at the Second Seawall. He turned off the engine and rolled the windows down.
“Now you can tell your friends you’ve parked at the Second Seawall,” he said, moving over toward me from the driver’s side. There wasn’t much of a breeze, and it was getting hot in the car — in more ways than one—so we decided to get out. When I opened the car door to get out, though, I almost stepped on a used rubber.
“Yuk! Let’s get out of here,” I said, pointing to the condom.
Elvis just laughed; he thought it was funny. We drove around for a while before stopping again, but by this time the mosquitoes had found us and were about to eat us alive.
“Something tells me we’re not going to park here after all,” he said, swatting at the mosquitoes and calling them “buzzing little bastards.” Even today when I get a mosquito bite, as unpleasant as it is, I laugh, remembering that night and the “buzzing little bastards,”
Elvis suggested we go back to the hotel and go for a swim, but I had a better idea.
“You want to go for a swim? I know the perfect place.”
We drove to the west side of Biloxi, on the outskirts of town, to the Sunkist Country Club. The pool behind the clubhouse wasn’t fenced in, and a bunch of us used to sneak in all the time. We stripped down to our underwear and quietly slipped in the cool water. The clubhouse had a few lights across the back; just enough for us to see each other.
“What happens if someone catches us?” he whispered nervously.
“Nothing! They’ll just make us leave, that’s all. The night—watchman must be hard of hearing. He’s never caught us yet, and we always made noise. Relax, there’s nothing to worry about,” I whispered, giving him a long passionate kiss.
“I need you desperately, June. Do you wanna make love in the water?” he whispered between kisses.
“Only if you do.” I left the decision up to him. I was so aroused I couldn’t have said no if I tried.
“You’re no help at all, June. We can’t both lose control. One of us has to know when to stop,” he said, putting both hands on top of my head and dunking me under the water. When the dunking was over I couldn’t resist getting revenge. I grabbed the back of his underwear and, with an upward yank, gave him a wedgie — or what we girls call a “PIC” (Panties in Crack)! I swam like crazy to the deep end, treading water until he promised he wouldn’t drown me if I came back. Hoping he would keep his promise, I swam back to his arms.
We played in the water until our fingers were all shrivelled, keeping a sensible distance between our almost—nude bodies, stealing a kiss every now and then.
He took me home and we sat in the car, talking for a long time. He didn’t tell me he was leaving the next morning until we were on the porch, kissing goodnight.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“It’s bad enough me knowing. I didn’t want to spoil your night too. I won’t be gone long, baby, I promise,” he added, giving me a quick kiss and leaving me standing on the porch.
I went straight to the bathroom, washed the chlorine from my hair, and started putting it in pin curls. Realizing I had no reason to look good, I quickly took the bobbie pins out. I hadn’t had a haircut in over a year. I was either wearing a ponytail or sleeping every night in pin curls, and it was getting to be a royal pain. The sun and chlorine had damaged the ends of my hair, so I decided to surprise Elvis with a new hairdo. This was no big deal for me — I was one for changing my hairstyle as often as I changed my mind — so I went to bed, planning to make an appointment the next day.
In the morning I had to explain to my mother why my panties and bra were hanging in the bathroom. When I told her about sneaking in the pool, she just laughed. She was probably relieved to know I’d kept them on.
With my new haircut, closely resembling that of actress Gina Lollobrigida, I left the beauty salon, smiling, sure that Elvis was going to approve of the new me.