The Day Elvis Almost Died :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

The Day Elvis Almost Died I was riding in the backseat of my parents red Cutlass on a agile fall day in 1984. My only entertainment was listening to the sucking sound the back of my thigh made when I lifted it remove the sticky vinyl seat. I remember seeing patchwork field of rainbow-colored leaves resting on the yellow grass, wishing that I could rake them into big piles, so I could run through them, scattering them across the field again. I rolled the dusty windowpane down to get a break in look at the pastures as the hard wind rushed in over my face and through my hair. I stuck my head through the window and opened my mouth, so my cheeks would puff out kindred Dizzy Gillespies when he played his trumpet. Slowly, my cheeks began to def late, and the wind softened as my protactinium braked the car to cut into into the driveway of my grandparents home, the location of our annual May family picnic. My whole family had already arrived when we showed up. only my uncle s immediately bombarded the car, playfully snickering with my dad about always being late so he would not have to help them cook. My Papa Joe, with his Afro of exsanguinous hair, and my Grandma Lee Lee, who limped like a peg- ramificationged pirate because one leg was shorter than the other, were sitting in lounge chairs talking about how much I had grown. My Uncle Kelly, whose left arm was shot off by his ex-wife during an argument, was walking around, kvetch about how he was going to starve if he didnt eat soon. My auntie Rosie, who always wore a tiny pair of rose earrings and kept a wad of chewing tobacco in her mouth, talked with my mom between spits of brown, smooth liquid directed into her plastic cup. Including my cousins and a few distant relatives, roughly twenty-five people were there talking, laughing, and mingling. And there I was, all unaccompanied in the land of giants with only my cowgirl Barbie to protect me. I felt like a guppy trying to swim upstr eam with a civilize of trout. Even though we had only been there for five minutes, finding my dad and leaving were my priorities.