Finding Graceland Page #2

One more hand, Burn?

It stopped raining.

- That's not fair.

- Oh, come on.

What about our self-respect?

You want your self-respect back?

Okay, we'll play a new game.

Called "Reality Check."

That sounds dull.

How 'bout it, old timer?

You up for a little identity test?

Happy to oblige.

We'll start easy.

What size shoe did Elvis wear?

My shoe size? Jesus.

Wrong.

But I ain't answered yet.

It's just been so long

since I actually purchased a new pair.

Yeah.

Let me check.

Twelve D.

How'd you know that?

He's right, your flesh is gonna be

public property soon, Burn.

Elvis' purple Cadillac.

How did he describe the shade he wanted?

That's easy.

I said I wanted the car to look like

someone squashed grapes on the hood.

I read that.

What year did Elvis buy Graceland? What

was his Army rank, registration number?

That's hardly one question,

but I'll let it slide.

I bought Gladys her slice of heaven...

in March, '57...

and she was proud I made sergeant.

He's right.

It says so right here.

Put your dancin' shoes on, Burn.

One night with you

I love a man with ssars.

That still hurt

from when your wife died?

How'd you know that?

Oh, baby, Elvis told us

the whole story.

How she was killed in a car accident.

Everybody out.

Calm down, son.

I'm not your son.

I'm awfully sorry about this...

ladies.

It's all right, Elvis.

We love you like life itself.

But your friend here

has got the manners of a scud missile.

Son...

I'm not feelin' so keen.

Mind if I lay down a while?

I was beginning to think I'd have

to walk the rest of the way to Memphis.

No trouble.

Tell me about the nightmare

you had last night...

and I might let you take the wheel.

My dreams ain't but

a bunch of nonsense, Burn.

That's a pity, 'cause this car's

running silky smooth.

Don't I know it.

What was it you called it?

"The cream of American history"?

Ho! Let me think.

There's these two people...

they hang about my sleep all the time.

A woman and a child.

When I wake, they're gone.

Who are they?

I never see their faces.

I wish they'd introduce themselves to me

or leave me alone.

What's your name?

Maybe if you told me your name,

then you could remember theirs.

That's twice in two days

you've let that car fly by.

It's just a coincidence.

There's no such thing as coincidence.

All you got to do is open

your eyes and ears...

and you'll see the beauty in fate.

I'll bet the first look you got

of Beatrice...

you knew it was preordained.

How'd you know her name?

It must've stumbled

out of you somewhere.

I was gonna be a doctor.

I was the most coordinated person

I knew.

I never tripped,

never broke a bone in my body.

Then one day I wind up killing

the woman I lived for.

Exastly how did you do that?

You have ten minutes.

You drive no faster than 35,

and you stop when I say.

This car is one of

the more beautiful sights...

I've seen in a long time.

Man...

it's been ages since I've handled

a baby like this.

I do believe a moment of reflection

is in order.

Now, by God, grab hold of somethin'!

Slow down.

How did you kill Beatrice, Byron?

Did you blow a tire?

Did you lose your brakes?

I don't remember.

Bull! You're just afraid

to face the truth.

Slow down!

Why you--

I wanna rip it up

I wanna shake it up

Pull over!

- Look at that! An escort.

- Sh*t!

Relax. I can handle this.

You're certifiable.

- Do you have a driver's license?

- 'Course I do.

Though come to think of it,

I haven't renewed it since I died.

License and registration, please.

Officer Haynes. I'm afraid I left

my I.D. in my other pants this mornin'.

But you can recognize the King.

So what can I do for you today?

An autographed five by ten

for the loved ones perhaps?

Both of you,

out of the car now.

He's just kiddin', Officer.

I don't have a sense of humor.

Since your friend don't have a license,

you both have a right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used

against you in a court of law.

You're arresting both of us?

Just arrest this lunatic.

I was just giving him a lift.

You picked the wrong cargo.

Far as I'm concerned, Elvis was nothin'

but an overrated saloon singer.

Can I help it if your high school

sweetheart had the hots for me?

Get over here!

What do you think, Burn?

Maybe I should show the man the light by

beltin' out a little "Jailhouse Rock."

One note.

One note, and I cannot

be held responsible for my actions.

Like what?

Tearing at my clothes

and wettin' yourself?

Don't fret, Burn.

I haven't met a law enforcement agent

yet wasn't soft on the King.

Sheriff Haynes?

What now?

Are you from Mississippi?

Born in East Tupelo.

No tall tale!

I had a schoolyard friend by the name

of Harold looked just like you.

We used to call him "Hap."

Friends used to call me that.

See, Burn?

Me and Haynes are kin.

He didn't say he knows you.

Sure he does.

Hap, you recall Mrs. Grimes'

fifth grade homeroom?

How we had to recite

those God-long poems?

"Sunset and evening star...

and one clear call for me.

And may there be no moaning of the bar

when I put out to sea."

"But such a tide as moving

seems asleep...

too full of sound and foam.

When that which drew

from out the boundless deep...

turns once again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

and after that the dark.

And may there be no sadness

of farewell when I embark."

No!

That's why I left Memphis

in the first place.

Elvis impersonators, reporters

knockin' on my door night and day...

looking for some small detail of the

final years they could turn into money.

A bad dose of celebrity, huh?

You know what the worst was?

There was nothin' I could tell 'em.

The day I heard Elvis had gone,

I was surprised as any.

I'd no idea he wasn't well.

Sure, he was under

a lot of pressure, but--

Let's just say sometimes

I wonder.

Well, I never could play you, Hap.

What can I say to make you see fit

to forgive such an abrupt farewell?

Remember this with me.

Once when me and Elvis was just boys...

ridin' around in a little red wagon

in his backyard...

I guess I turned a tad fast.

Anyway, he fell out.

He didn't get hurt, just got scared

and started cryin'.

And you started screaming,

"Hiss! Hiss!"

Because you couldn't say "Elvis"

till you was almost grown.

I'll be damned!

I have never related that tale

to a soul.

I'll never forget it. My mama

came flyin' out the back door...

with that broom of hers like a hen

to protect her chicks.

I can't believe you believe this.

Watch your manners, boy.

I'll write you up for every

moving violation I can drum up.

Now, Hap, is that really necessary?

I never did apologize

for flippin' that wagon over.

Damn.

Sorry about that...

Elvis.

Remember the King.

- How do you know that man?

- He was my childhood--

No, no. Don't tell me

he was your childhood friend.

Okay. I heard the remnant's of a lisp

when he spoke...

and I guessed he was a fan.

So you admit you lied to him!

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