The New Elvis Read Online Free Page B

belongings remained in the drawers and closet as though she were still alive. Occasionally, Logan escaped to her room to be alone in the dark and inhale the scent of lavender sachets she kept buried among her stockings. The only clutter back then was Ramona’s ever-increasing stack of Elvis Presley albums, which Ramona and MawMaw listened to as they played cards at the dining room table. Logan remembered them all—the one of Elvis in his tropical shirt and the swirly lettering of the words “Blue Hawaii”, the black and white one that said “Elvis” in red along the left-hand side of the cover and “Presley” in green along the bottom, and the one where golden records were hung like ornaments, with Elvis’s face on one of them. The golden records one had songs like “Hound Dog”, “All Shook Up”, “Heartbreak Hotel”, and “Jailhouse Rock” on it, and it was MawMaw and Ramona’s favorite.
    Logan was only five when MawMaw died, and sometimes he was certain his mother had died with her. He knew, at least, her heart had. In the months following her mother’s passing, Ramona dedicated herself to buying useless items, cluttering up every square inch of the house but leaving MawMaw’s shrine intact. He wanted to go back to the days of Elvis, when both of the ladies would sit at the table, drinking gin and tonics, smoking cigarettes, playing cards, and gossiping like schoolgirls. Their laughter and the clinking of ice in their glasses complimented the music they listened to, and now that it was gone, all that was left in the house was the seething resentment between his parents.
    Ramona was still screaming now, but Jarrod hadn’t left.
    Kara restacked the plastic cups on the table. “Isn’t there something we can do?”
    Finally, one of the boys noticed Logan pressed against the side of the pool in the shallow end. “Hey, Lockhart, don’t your parents ever shut up?”
    A few boys made their way to the shallow end, and one of them grabbed him. “Don’t you ever get sick and tired of listening to them argue?”
    One of the boys laughed and jumped on Logan, pushing him down, holding him under the water.
    “Maybe they’re arguing about him. Maybe they’re sorry they had him. Maybe things would be better if he were dead.”
    Underwater, Logan held his breath for as long as he could. Then he started to feel dizzy. Oblivious of the fact a boy had shouted Logan’s name and that he was in the pool, Kara was still talking to Ted. “That poor boy. Someone should get him away from those people.”
    “Hey, cut it out, guys!” Fred pushed his friends out of the way and dragged Logan to the surface.
    Logan sputtered and coughed.
    Kara finally noticed him. “Oh, my God!”
    Fred slapped Logan on the back, trying to clear his lungs. “You OK, dude?”
    The boys who had been pushed away muttered to themselves and moved to the deep end. Logan wished Fred a happy birthday and got out of the pool. Kara noticed he didn’t have a towel, so she brought over one of hers and dried him off.
    “It’s rough at home, isn’t it, Logan?”
    Logan shook his head, trying to be tough.
    Kara’s words were hesitant. “If you ever need anything…”
    “Thanks, Mrs. Henn. I’ll be OK.”
    Now dry, Logan walked back to the fence and crawled under it. He turned back, wanting to thank Mr. Henn for inviting him, but no one was watching.

Chapter 10
    Ryan’s voice was angelically high and sweet. Puberty hadn’t raised a pimple, but he already loved music and girls, and of all the girls in the world, little Beatrice Edwin ranked higher on his best-loved list than the chocolate in his milk, frosting on his cake, sleeping in on Saturdays, baseball with his buddies, and his favorite song—“Jailhouse Rock”—all rolled into one. Most of all, he loved to spend time with her in her bedroom, which was decorated with Disney princesses and an ever-increasing number of wall clocks. Right after Thanksgiving, in early December, they lay