“What?” I said as I looked around at my unfamiliar surrounding. “Where in the world am I? And is that sand I feel between my toes? What is going on?”
I got up, brushed myself off and looked around. I appeared to be on a beach, a white sandy beach with turquoise water lapping at the sand. The wind quietly blew through my hair and I heard the rustle of the palm leaves.
Was I on a deserted island? How in the world was this possible? The last thing that I remember was standing in my kitchen trying to make lunch while the kids ran around.
“My kids!” the words that I heard leave my lips had a panicky tone. “Who is with my kids? I can’t be here.”
“Don’t worry, Mama. They’re fine.”
I looked in the directions of the voice. And when I found it, I was blinded by the all the sequins.
I closed my eyes, shook my head and opened them again. I was not seeing this. How could this be?
“E-E-Elvis?” I asked.
“That’s right,” he said with a curl to his lips and a shake in his hips. “It’s me in the flesh. A hunk a hunk burning love.”
“But you’re dead! I read about your death in my history books. Wait, did I get hit on the head? Are you just an Elvis impersonator? Am I unconscious or something? This is not real. This can’t be real. Elvis, I mean you are dead, I know it. Wait? Who is that?” I asked referring to the big chested blond woman who was sunning herself on the beach.
“Well, sugar, that is Anna Nicole Smith.” Elvis said as he shook his hips back and forth doing a little jig in the sand.
I didn’t really know what to say. One minute I was in my house in the middle of winter and the next minute I was on a tropical island with Elvis dancing a jig on the beach and Anna Nicole sunning herself.
“Where am I? What is this place?” I asked Elvis. I needed him to stand still all his shaking and gyrating was giving me a headache because every time he moved the rhinestones on his white jumpsuit caught the sun and reflected directly into my eyes.
“This is our island. We all live here in peace.” He said between dance moves.
“I thought this was an island but where… wait. You said, ‘we’. Who is we? Who else is here?” I asked my curiosity peaked but at the same time I braced myself. I mean, I half expected Big Foot to come out from behind the bushes.
“Well,” he said as he finally stopped moving, “Anna is here and the Princess. Michael and John. We all live here in peace and away from the public.”
“Let me get this straight. You are telling me that Princess Diana, John F. Kennedy Jr, Michael Jackson, Anna Nicole Smith and you, Elvis, all live here? On this island?”
He nodded at me. “But you all are dead?” I continued. “Wait, am I here because I died?”
“We are very much alive and kicking. We just needed an escape. The public life got to be too much so we faked our deaths and here we are. Safe, happy and free.” He educated me.
“Really. You know, I always thought that is what happened to you all. Hollywood can be so cruel. I can’t imagine being under the microscope like that.” I paused to let him adjust his jumpsuit. “But I am still confused. What am I doing here? I am a blogger and sorta in the public eye but that’s only on the Internet and its not like I am blogfamous like Mama Kat or anything. So Elvis, why am I here?”
“Huh?” he grunted and appeared to be distracted by something in my hand. “Oh, uh, I needed some peanut butter and a banana for my favorite sandwich. So, I’ll take that.”
And with that he took the peanut butter jar that I had been holding in my hand and seconds after the jar left my head, my vision went blurry and I left things rushing by my face.
Suddenly, I felt my body stop. I landed with a thud against something hard. I was afraid to open my eye because who knows where I was now. But then I felt a familiar touch on my face.
“Mom. Mom. Can I have a peanut butter and banana sandwich? I wanna a face with the banana like Daddy does.”
I opened my eyes to see Hayden’s face right in mine. He was so close to me that I could smell this candy heart laced breath. I felt the hard kitchen floor under my feet. I saw Hayden standing on a stool. I was back in our house, in my kitchen. It must have been a weird day dream. I knew that it couldn’t have been real.
“Mom!” Hayden began again, “I am hungry. Will you make me a sandwich?”
“Sure, Hayden. I will make you a sandwich.” I said as I went to the cupboard to pull out the peanut butter. But as I opened the door and started to reach for the jar… there was nothing there. It was gone.
Then it hit me.
It was real.
Elvis is alive and he has my peanut butter.
Don’t ask where it came from.
I sat down to write and there it was.
Who knows maybe this really did happen.
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