Hope and Undead Elvis

chapter Six

Hope and Paradise





A side road connected to the two-lane blacktop. Instead of pavement, hard-packed gravel covered the road. A single green highway marker post sat next to the entrance with a broken yellow reflector riveted onto it.

Hope stared at it through the windshield. It had to be an illusion, a mirage of the heat and sand, fueled by her hunger and dehydration.

But Gabe saw it too, or he wouldn't have stopped The Way.

Undead Elvis leaned his head in through the broken rear window. "What are you thinkin' about doing here?"

"Take it," said Hope without hesitating.

"Are you sure? We don't know where it leads," said Gabe.

"We don't know where the road we're on now leads," said Hope.

"Graceland. Well, eventually," said Undead Elvis.

"But this side road is the first we've seen in how many miles?"

Gabe looked down. "I don't know, senorita. The odometer's broken."

"Look, for whatever reason, this road didn't disappear with everything else in the world. That means it's important, right? It's supposed to be here." Hope looked at the packed gravel. "Maybe we're supposed to follow it."

"What if it disappears while we're on it? Or it leads to nowhere?" asked Gabe.

Hope shrugged. "Then we're not any worse off than we are now. Look around you. Can you honestly tell me we're not already in the middle of nowhere?"

Gabe shrugged. "Good point."

He drove The Way up to the side road, slowed, and signaled before turning left. Gravel crunched under the tires. Hope smiled and daydreamed about where the mysterious road might lead. Unlike the two-lane highway they'd left behind, the gravel track meandered around the bases of mountain-sized sand dunes. The change from simple straight-line travel made all three occupants perk up a bit. Even the tone of The Way's engine changed, as if it, too, were pleased to have some variety in its travels. They wove through the dunes for what felt like hours, if time had any meaning. At long last, they swung around a final curve, and Paradise was laid out before them.

It might have been a patch of ground the size of a football field. After seeing the unending waves of yellow sand, the lush green of life and brilliance of water made Hope's eyes water and heart ache.

A pond of clear water sat amid a stand of trees, laden with colorful fruits. Instead of more sand, grass covered the ground except where flowering shrubs stuck up, dark green in a sea of sward.

Hope whispered, "Is it real?"

Neither Gabe nor Undead Elvis answered, but Gabe drove The Way the last few hundred feet and stopped where the crushed gravel road ended.

Hope fell out of the passenger side of the car. She was so exhausted and hungry that her legs wouldn't support her any longer, but she could still crawl. Gravel cut painful scratches into her knees and hands. She didn't care, for in a moment she was on sweet green grass, and no discomfort could lessen the impact of its scent and the gentle touch of its blades. She buried her face in the field, let the heady odors wash through her, and sobbed in wordless gratitude to whatever had caused this oasis to appear to them. She'd have welcomed death if it could have been in such a place.

"It's real," she repeated, like a mantra. "It's real."

Booted feet appeared beside her. "Are you all right, Li'l lady?"

"I'm not dreaming it, am I, Elvis? If I am, I don't want to wake up."

"It's real as anything else." He bent down and offered her his hand. She took it and pulled herself away from the call of the grassy bed below. They went to the edge of the pond. Hope wasn't too proud to get down on her hands and knees and dip her lips into the cool, sweet water. She didn't care if it was teeming with lethal microorganisms. It was water, and it was good. If it killed her, at least she wouldn't die thirsty.

Her thirst slaked at last, she splashed water on her face and then took a deep breath and dunked her whole head in. Caked-on dust and grime peeled away in clouds. While submerged, she opened her eyes and let the cool wetness assuage the pain of her dried-out corneas.

At last, with black spots encroaching on the edge of her vision, she pulled her dripping head out and smiled at Undead Elvis. "I feel so much better."

Gabe offered her a large apple.

Hope smiled at him as she took it. "Apples in Paradise, Gabe?"

"That was a quince, señorita."

"What's a quince?"

He paused. "It's kind of like an apple."

Hope laughed and bit into the fruit. Sweet flesh and tart juices exploded through her mouth and she groaned with the sheer pleasure of it. She ate it in under a minute and then plucked another off a tree and ate it at a more measured pace. As she did so, she watched as Gabe sipped from the pond, splashed water onto his face, and refilled his water bottle. Her thirst slaked, her belly filled, a new appetite began to awaken, one she'd never allowed herself to satisfy. Should she still wait, now that the world had ended? No, she decided. She didn't have to anymore. The rules had changed; there were no more rules. She stepped over to him and knelt down beside where he crouched by the pond.

"Gabe," she said in a soft voice. "I haven't yet thanked you properly for picking us up." She touched his arm and felt goosebumps appear on his brown skin under her fingertips. "Do you want to sleep with me? You can."

He smiled. "That's a tempting offer, señorita, but I'm afraid I can't."

Hope was taken aback. Of all the responses she'd expected, can't hadn't even been on her radar.

"Can't? Why? Are you gay?"

"No."

"Don't you find me attractive?"

"Very much so, señorita."

"Can't you get it up?"

"It's not that. I just can't. Lo siento. I am sorry."

Hope yanked off her Catholic school girl top, not caring if it tore. She squeezed her breasts together and thrust them toward him. "Goddammit, Gabe! I'm a virgin, and I'm choosing you! Don't you understand what that means? I want you to love me. I want you to make me feel alive because we're in this beautiful place and it might be gone any moment like the rest of the world. And then what would we have? Nothing but sand, sand, and more f*cking sand. I don't want to feel sand anymore, Gabe. I want to feel your skin against mine, and your weight on me."

Gabe bowed his head. "I cannot. I wish I could, Hope, with all my heart, but I swore a vow, and to break it would destroy me."

Anger rose in Hope as quick as her desire had. She grabbed her discarded blouse and tugged it back over her head again. "You know what, Gabe? F*ck you. F*ck you and your shitty vows. You could have had me right here, right now, but now you never will." She whirled to face Undead Elvis. "Hey, Elvis. You were a ladies' man. Come f*ck me. Show this a*shole how it's done."

Undead Elvis adjusted his glasses, shrugged, and smiled. "I would if I could, Li'l lady, but it takes blood flowing to put wood in a fella's wang, and I just don't have the juice."

"Then use your tongue. Use your fingers. God, don't you want me? Am I so horrible?"

Undead Elvis walked over to her. She stiffened a little at his approach. Was he going to take her up on her offer? She didn't care. She was ready. She chewed on her lip as he looked down at her and then tilted her head forward to kiss her forehead. "It's not the right time and I'm not the right man and we both know that, Li'l lady."

Hope wanted to lash out, to scream at Undead Elvis and belittle him as she had Gabe, but instead she stalked halfway around the pond to sulk under the soft green canopy of a willow tree. She looked back once, hoping Gabe might come to his senses and follow her.

He sat dejected where she'd left him, head bowed and tears tracing lines down his cheeks. It broke her heart to witness his grief, and she knew she'd hurt him with her words. She knew she should go to him and apologize, but she was so tired, and the heather beneath the willow was so soft. She pillowed her head on her arms and promised herself she would only doze for a minute or two.

A fleeting dream startled Hope out of sleep and she sat up, afraid that Paradise had disappeared while she slept, or that she had been left alone. But the willow remained over her, its leafy fronds shielding her from the burning, unmoving sun. Undead Elvis sat facing her, his legs crossed and wrists resting upon his knees. Gabe sat at the edge of the pond, whittling a stick with a pocketknife.

Before Hope could say anything to either of them, nausea took hold of her. She gasped, bent over, and vomited up the remains of her apples. "Christ," she mumbled as she wiped her mouth. "I better not be getting sick now, of all times."

"You all right, Li'l lady?" asked Undead Elvis.

"I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever be all right again." Hope went to the pond to splash more water on her face and rinse out her mouth.

"Sick to your stomach, señorita?" asked Gabe in a muted voice. "It will pass. It usually does, I'm told."

"Being sick? Yeah, I would hope so." Hope swallowed a mouthful of water and waited to see if it would come back up. When it didn't, she drank some more. "Listen, Gabe, I'm sorry about what I said. I was being selfish and it's not right for me to disrespect your vows. I'm sorry. Friends?" She extended a hand to him.

He took it. "Friends. You are an extraordinary young woman, Hope. I was told that when I was sent to find you."

Hope drew back her hand as if Gabe's had burned it. "You were told? You were sent? To find me? What do you mean?" Her heart started to pound as fear arose within it.

"Hope. Truly an apropos name, señorita. I was sent to find you to deliver you a message, because right now, in this time and place, you are the most important person in the world."