“We’ve got a busy day,” I said to Todd and Byron the next morning.
We breakfasted in a diner down the street from the Heartache. After sharing a room with two men and their raucous snoring, I needed a stronger brew than the tepid brown sludge the Heartache tried to pass off as coffee. Rather than sleep on the padded plywood and cigarette burned object the Heartache called a sofa, I used my time re-sketching the Green Room’s players from memory on the motel stationary.
I also made a fair likeness of Chet and Little Jimmy and faxed them to Uncle Will using the Heartache business office.
If you can call a closet holding a fax machine and a Commodore 64 with dial-up a business office.
“I don’t think I can take another night sharing a bed with Byron,” grumbled Todd. “This set-up better work because I’m not taking him to Vegas.”
“You’re just grumpy because you lost money last night,” I said. “I sure hope it was worth the time with Lucinda when you could have watched Chet and Little Jimmy roughing me up.”
Todd wisely kept his eyes on his gravy and mouth full of biscuit.
“That’s a first for you, Todd.” Byron laughed. “You never lose.”
“I apologized plenty last night.” Todd’s ears brightened to Rose Madder. “I found out Chet runs the Green Room.”
“I’m not asking for another apology, Todd. I’m merely pointing out the facts of last night to Byron. And I must say, Byron, you are lucky to have a cousin so full of holiday cheer that he was willing to lose at poker for an entire hour and forty-five minutes more while his girlfriend sat on a cement step outside the Green Room. Freezing her hiney off. Of course, he was distracted by his new friends, Chet, Little Jimmy, and Rockabilly Goth Girl.”
“What the heck is a rockabilly goth girl? You mean Lucinda?” Todd’s ear color deepened to Red Medium. “She’s fixing to come tonight.”
“Then she better learn to keep her hands to herself. That’s why you lost. Couldn’t concentrate with Lucinda breathing down your neck. And don’t think I didn’t see her rubbing your leg with those trashy press-on nails.”
“Lucinda’s pretty good at cards,” Todd said to Byron. “Knows a lot of people in Memphis, too. You know she once met Chris Moneymaker? Played a round of Omaha with him. What a gal.”
That remark almost put me off my ham and egg sandwich, but I was never one to let Goth girl crushes interrupt my love for a good biscuit.
My irritation with Todd was somewhat dissipated by the approach of the Colonel and Priscilla. The Colonel still favored his hat and tweed coat, but Priscilla had changed to a denim jumpsuit with plum platforms.
I brightened at our complimentary outfits. With the brisk December weather, I wore hand studded jeans and a cropped denim jacket. The back of my jacket had been emblazoned with a Christmas tree and the pockets of my jeans had silver and gold ornaments.
Adorning my butt with bling tended to disguise what God had forgotten to contribute.
“Howdy, visitors,” the Colonel said, clenching an unlit cigarillo in his hand. “How was your visit to the Green Room last night? Luther and Fred all set?”
“Yes, sir,” said Todd. “They’re spreading the word about the game and they also had a good idea on how to get the party into Graceland without causing too much fuss.”
“I heard you’re gonna paint a wall,” said Priscilla.
“I have a great idea. I’m going to draw a series of Memphis musician pictorials as a mural,” I said. “Unfortunately, my good sketchpad was eaten by Little Jimmy last night. I still have my pencil box. But, I’ll need more supplies.”
“Well now, Miss Thing,” said Priscilla. “I hope you include me in this mural. ‘Cause you know the heads of famous Memphis musicians need to include Priscilla. You missed me on the stage at Suspicious Minds last night. Even Santa Elvis and his elf congratulated me on my natural singing abilities. The Lord did not just stop at good looks when he handed Pricilla His blessings.”
“I’d be happy to draw you,” I said. “But I’m charging twenty dollars a sketch. It’s for Byron’s kids.”
“Girl, you should be paying me for the chance to make your pencil happy.”
“I don’t think my pal Lonnie wants you actually painting or drawing on the visitor center walls,” said Byron.
“Byron is right. Your painting act is just a screen in case a guard shows,” said the Colonel. “Todd, I’ve got one more place for you to visit. We’re driving out to Arkansas this morning. I’ve a feeling we need to spread some mustard across the line.”
“You’re taking Todd to Arkansas? What about me and Byron?” I said.
“Byron’s going to Graceland, honey. We don’t want anybody recognizing him at the tables. Besides he needs to make sure we’re all set for tonight. Word’s traveled about the game, but I want to cover all our bases. We’re taking Lucinda.”
“Lucinda,” I gasped. “What the hell do you need Lucinda for?”
“She wanted to go.”
“I don’t trust her. She works for Chet and Little Jimmy.”
“Chet’s just touchy. He’s protecting his establishment from the law. What were you thinking drawing the players? If Memphis Police get wind of your little sketches, it’s not just his business he’ll lose,” said the Colonel.
“Those were practice drawings for the quick portraits I made for the players. They paid me for drawing them,” I bluffed.
“You’ll prove useful tonight, providing us a cover for the game. You need to get your painting deal together.”
“Getting supplies’ll take an hour tops.”
“Priscilla here will help you with anything you need,” said the Colonel. “Fred knows the art shop where you can get supplies. Just remember, we don’t need a finished product, just enough to keep the guards and cops from wondering what’s going on in the visitor’s center at night.”
He shoved the cigar in his mouth and spoke through clenched teeth. “Come on, Todd and Byron. Let’s get going. Graceland closes at four. We need to park the painting truck in the lot before the gates close.”
“See you later, baby. Remember this is for Byron and his kids.” Todd gave me a friendly peck on the cheek. “I promise I’ll be a big winner in Vegas.”
“You better win tonight for Byron,” I grumbled. “I’ll try to recapture my Christmas spirit, but I still don’t think it’s fair that I have to stay. I’ve never been to Arkansas.”
“Everyone has a job.” The Colonel really relished his role of Mr. Bossy Pants. “And you’re the lookout.”
I remembered being cast the lookout as a kid when the boys didn’t want me interfering in their games. I didn’t like it much then either. However, I’d suck it up for Byron’s children and the baby Jesus.
“What about the real workers?”
This wasn’t like breaking into the Halo High School stadium to drink behind the bleachers. This was an office building belonging to the property of one of the most important figures in American history. According to my now deceased Grandma Jo.
“Graceland is giving the construction workers a few weeks off for the holidays, but they’re also waiting for some flooring something or other that’s been delayed,” said Byron. “We won’t see any of those guys.”
“‘Course if we’re caught, we’ll be in a hell of a lot of trouble. Yourselves included,” said the Colonel, brandishing his cigar at me. “Maybe y’all especially.”
“How’s that?”
“Your idea, ain’t it? And you’re tourists. It’s not like you know the local PD.”
“I guess you play cards with a few of Memphis’s finest.” I folded my arms over my chest. “And if we’re busted, they’ll need a couple names.”
“Well, darlin’, it may be your game, but you’ve still got to play with the hand you’re dealt.” The Colonel smiled with his teeth. “Todd. Byron. Let’s leave the ladies to their breakfast.”
I scowled but scooted off the seat to allow Todd to leave. The Colonel had just confirmed what I feared. These players would sell us out quicker than a hot knife cuts through butter. We couldn’t trust anyone.
“I don’t see what you’re all het up about,” said Priscilla after they left. “You do get to spend the morning with me.”
“Never mind.” The last thing I needed was a drag queen lecturing me on jealousy and my lack of holiday cheer. “So, do you know anything about painting murals?”
“Honey, what I don’t know about murals I make up for as an excellent embellisher. Hand me a bottle of glitter glue and I’ll go to town on your Elvis wall.”
“Why aren’t you playing in the poker game?”
“Because I also know my limitations and unless we’re talking strip poker, I ain’t about to lose my shirt. The boys coming to this game play rough.”
“Lord, I hope Todd knows what he’s doing.” I stared at my plate of biscuit crumbs.
“He’s the bait, girl,” Priscilla grinned. “How else do you think they’re going to hook the sharks?”