Hope and Undead Elvis

chapter Twenty-Seven

Hope and the Token





Some days it felt to Hope like The Way would never get repaired, and others it felt like she could leave at a moment's notice. Regardless, she measured the passage of time by the slow but steady expansion of her belly.

She, Rae, and Nur had settled into a peaceful, domestic sort of daily routine. In the mornings, Nur and Rae would depart on their search for parts to repair The Way as well as any other supplies. Sometimes they'd be gone all day and would return with a wrecked or abandoned car behind the tow truck, often as not filled up with parts, cans of food, or bars of soap. Other times they disappeared into the ranks of the automobile graveyard to strip cars Nur already knew about.

While they were gone, Hope would spend her mornings cleaning up the trailer that they all shared, organizing supplies, or walking through the rows of dead cars. Fidel was her constant companion, and it became plain that he had adopted her as much as Nur had taken in Hope and Rae.

She often had to take a nap after whatever she managed to throw together for lunch. Then in the afternoons, while Nur and Rae worked on repairing The Way, Hope would try her hand at cooking something edible for dinner. As the days wore on, she found she was not just enjoying her kitchen experimentation, but she was coming up with palatable dishes more often than not. At least, that's what Nur and Rae told her. "Just call me Suzie Homemaker," she said to Fidel one day, and he barked and wagged his stump at her the way he always did.

At night, Nur would sleep in one end of the trailer and Rae and Hope would cuddle on the fold-out couch while Fidel curled up between their feet. Then, one night, Rae stopped sleeping beside Hope and went to Nur's room instead. Hope wept silent, selfish tears into her pillow as the soft gasps of lovemaking filtered under the door. She was mad at herself; she had no right to be jealous of her friends. They'd fallen deeply in love and had a mystical connection Hope couldn't begin to understand. It wasn't like she'd had designs upon Nur herself. But it wasn't fair that Rae was getting laid and enjoying herself while Hope was several months pregnant and hadn't been touched once.

She berated herself for those thoughts. That kind of negative thinking would lead to darker thoughts, and somebody might get hurt because of them. Fidel sensed her discomfiture and crawled up the mattress to offer a solemn, consoling lick upon the tip of her nose. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face against the fur on the back of his neck, and went to sleep.

In the morning, Hope awakened to find Rae waiting for her instead of having disappeared with Nur. She sat down beside Hope and rested her fingertips lightly against Hope's lips. Once, that might have made her uncomfortable, but Hope had accepted that it was the only way Rae could converse anymore.

"I wanted to explain, and to say I'm sorry," said Rae.

"You don't have to do either," said Hope.

"Yes, I do. I want to. I should have talked to you about Nur and I before now."

"It's okay, Rae. Love happens. I'm so happy that you've found someone special to you."

"You found someone special too," said Rae. "But I can tell you've lost him. I hope you find him."

"I hope I do too." Hope couldn't tell Rae the truth. She missed Undead Elvis. Not that she loved him; she couldn't love a walking dead man. But he'd been so kind to her. He'd been unselfish about lending her his strength when she had no more.

"What was he like?" asked Rae.

"He… had a beautiful singing voice. One that could change the world."

"Or fix it?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Hope sniffled a little. "I do miss it."

"I wish I could have heard him."

"Maybe someday you will."

Rae shook her head. "I'm deaf, Hope. I accepted that years ago."

"I hope that after you die, you can spend eternity listening to all the beautiful music in the universe."

Rae threw her arms around Hope and they sat that way for a long time, taking comfort in their friendship. "I'm going to have a baby too," Rae whispered in Hope's ear. "In the summer, I think."

And that set both women bawling. Fidel sat in front of them, wrinkling his doggy brow in concern and thumping his tail when he thought it would help.

At last, Rae pulled away. "I have to go help Nur. We're tuning the engine in your car today. Then he says you can leave anytime you want." She kissed Hope on the cheek, her lips coming away wet with tears. She rubbed Hope's belly and the baby kicked in response. Then she left the trailer.

Hope took a few minutes to settle herself down. Her sadness and jealousy had transformed into joy and, well, hope. The world might be broken, but her son, and Rae and Nur's child, and all the children born after—they would be the ones to fix it.

Fidel jumped up onto the couch mattress, rolled over with his legs splayed in the air, and laid his head upside-down on Hope's lap. His tongue lolled out and he groaned and whined in the hope that a tummy rub would be forthcoming.

"Good old dog," Hope told him, scratching his chest. He thumped his tail. Hope climbed out of the bed. It was getting harder to do that every day, it seemed. Surely she couldn't be pregnant for very much longer. She wondered if Rae or Nur knew anything about delivering babies, because Hope hadn't a clue. She stretched and arched her back, trying to work out the kinks, but it seemed those kinks were there to stay. "Come on, Fidel. Let's go for a walk. Clear my head."

Fidel scrambled to the door with a cheerful bark and beat at Hope's legs with his anxious tail until she opened it. He went out like he'd been shot from a cannon and she loped after him at a more measured pace.

The days had grown cool and the nights downright chilly, and Hope wore an oversized hoodie sweatshirt over her overalls and a knit cap. She couldn't see her breath but suspected it wouldn't be long before winter would be upon them. Off in the covered carport Nur used as a workshop, she could hear the sounds of tinkering as Nur and Rae worked to finish her car.

Hope couldn't bear walking among the ruined cars again; not after the news of Rae's pregnancy. Instead, she turned to amble up the dirt lane toward the highway. Fidel, nonplussed by the change in routine, cavorted along beside her, now and then stopping for a long sniff and a short pee on stunted, leafless trees or tufts of dry grass.

After awhile, her feet began to hurt and Hope needed to sit down. She spotted a grove of saplings nearby and limped over to them. The dry leaves rustled beneath her as she found a stone large enough for her ample posterior and close enough to a tree that she could lever herself down onto it. She wished she could take off her shoes, but feared her feet would swell and then she couldn't get them back on again. Instead, she pulled off her knit cap and let the breeze cool her hot brow.

Fidel flitted around the grove, busy as a honeybee. He'd come back and press his cold wet nose against Hope's hand as if to verify she was still real, then tear off again on another doggy errand. At one point he started scrabbling through the dead leaves beneath a tree, nose stuck in the ground like it was glued down.

"What have you got, Fidel? A rabbit? Come on, leave the poor bunny alone." Hope stroked the curve of her belly and wondered what her baby would look like. Would he have her eyes? Her pert upturned nose and high cheekbones? If not, whose features would he bear? Fidel interrupted her daydreaming by sticking his nose against her hands. Hope asked, exasperated, "What, Fidel?"

He ran back to sit behind his treasure and stare at her, panting and smiling as if to say See what I did? Aren't I a good dog?

It appeared that Fidel had dug a dead body from the leaves, naked bones with bits of dried-out gristle still hanging from them.

"Well, let's see what you've found here, Mister." She groaned as she levered herself off the rock upon which she'd been resting. The baby rearranged himself in her belly, giving her instant heartburn. She let out a delicate burp. "I hope you're not going to be one of those obnoxious kids," she muttered.

In spite of the world's end, Hope hadn't seen many dead bodies. The ground had swallowed them up like the Earth was keeping itself tidy.

The dead guy must have been there for months. His flesh had either rotted away or been eaten by animals, leaving only some of his skeleton and remains of clothing behind. "Sorry about this, but you're dead and I'm not." She rifled through the pockets of his stained and tattered jeans. She found a wallet with five hundred pesos and an identification card so faded she couldn't read it except for the man's name. "Martin Laguia," she said aloud. "What were you doing here in the middle of nowhere?"

The only other thing in his pocket was a weathered, round piece of plastic that seemed familiar to her. Hope rubbed the accumulated grime off it and realized it was a poker chip or a token shaped like one. The paint in its center was bleached and dirty, but the logo was still legible.

Graceland Casino.

All the strength seemed to go out of Hope's legs and she staggered to the nearest tree to lean on it for support. Could it be that she'd found a clue to her final destination after all this time?

The main reason she'd delayed her plans to leave was not having a strong enough destination in mind. Undead Elvis had told her to go to Graceland, and if this wasn't a sign that it was time for her to go, she didn't know what else could be clearer.

Maybe he was there already, waiting for her.

She turned to regard the body by her feet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Laguia. I don't have a shovel to bury you, and I don't think I can convince Fidel to do it for me."

Hearing his name, Fidel barked.

"But I promise I'll remember you." Hope held up the token. "For this."

She paused, wondering what else she ought to say, but couldn't think of anything. She scratched Fidel's ears instead and told him he was a good dog.

The dog stiffened and his hackles raised. A low, rumbling growl issued from his throat. Hope looked around, frantic and afraid of what she knew she would find.

In a nearby tree, a black bird watched her with its beady little eyes aglow with interest. It squawked and Fidel's growl escalated into a furious and protective bark.

"No," whispered Hope. "No, no, no!"

The bird stretched its wings, ready to flap away. Fidel's throaty baying reached a fevered pitch. Hope couldn't let the bird escape, but she didn't have any weapon. She'd grown so comfortable living with Nur and Rae that she'd forgotten to carry the Shepherds' pistol with her. She bent down, mindful of the strain of her belly, and grabbed the first thing she touched: the unfortunate Martin Laguia's skull. It separated from his neck vertebrae without resistance and in one smooth motion, Hope hurled it at the bird.

Both the bird and the skull shattered like glass. Black and white shards rained down all around Hope and Fidel, whose barking had ceased the moment the bird went away.

Hope looked all around, checking to see if she could spot any other birds. She couldn't. Fidel must not have sensed any either, for he relaxed. Hope could tell he was vigilant, for he stayed right by her side instead of wandering off to investigate things on his own. She stepped out of the grove and turned her eyes to the west.

There, on the horizon, was a dark smudge of smoke.

As fast as she could waddle, Hope hurried back up the lane toward the shop.