You Make Me Feel So Dead Read Online Free PDF

makes you think I’m mooching off him?’
    â€˜You flew in his plane, didn’tcha? Gonna be sleepin’ in his house tonight? Eatin’ his food?’
    â€˜And none of that was my idea,’ I informed him. ‘I was invited here, Red.’
    â€˜So were all those moochers downstairs. This is your room.’
    We stopped in front of the open door. I saw my suitcase on the double bed.
    â€˜So you mean all those folks downstairs, and me, are moochers,’ I said, ‘unlike you and the rest of the Memphis crew.’
    He bristled at that, his face glowing red, and said, ‘We’re his friends.’ He glared at me. ‘I’ll come and get ya when Elvis tells me to.’
    â€˜Yeah, fine.’
    He turned and left, his shoulders hunched. He probably wanted to pummel me, but Elvis wouldn’t have liked it. I wondered how many of the Memphis Mafia were like Red West?
    My room had its own bathroom, so I was able to clean myself up and change into a fresh shirt. As I was buttoning it up there was a knock on the door. It was Red.
    â€˜Elvis wants you.’
    â€˜Sure,’ I said. ‘Lead the way.’
    We went down the hall and as we reached the stairway I became aware of the quiet.
    â€˜Everybody gone?’ I asked.
    â€˜Yeah,’ he said, ‘Elvis told them to go home. It’s just gonna be the fellas tonight.’
    We went past the kitchen, where a cook – a middle-aged woman – was moving around, tending to pots and pans on the stove. I could hear something sizzling in a pan, and the smells coming from there made my stomach growl.
    â€˜Where we going?’ I asked.
    â€˜E.’s in the TV room.’
    â€˜There’s a TV room?’
    â€˜You’ll see.’
    I followed him down toward the basement. When we got to the bottom of the stairs I saw a pool table off to the right, where four of the guys were shooting a game. Red turned left and I followed him.
    Red went into the room first, blocking my view. It wasn’t until I actually entered that I saw Elvis sitting on a sofa in front of three television sets, all of which were turned on, with a different station on each.
    Elvis was holding a half-eaten banana and peanut butter sandwich in one hand, and silver-plated gun in the other. On the coffee table in front of him was a bowl of assorted fruits, a plate of what looked like fudge cookies, and a box of cigars, El Producto Diamond Tips.
    â€˜Eddie.’ Elvis stood up, but waited for me to approach him so we could shake hands again. He had changed, but was still wearing white pants and a polo shirt, this one pale yellow with a high collar.
    I looked at the televisions to see what he was watching. Three different news shows blared on.
    â€˜How do you like the layout?’
    â€˜That’s a whole lot of TVs.’ I said.
    â€˜You know, I heard Lyndon Johnson keeps three sets on at all times, watches all the network news shows at once. I figured if it’s good enough for the President, it’s good enough for me.’
    â€˜Sounds fair.’
    â€˜Have a seat,’ he said, sitting back on the U-shaped green sofa. ‘Have some fruit, or cookies. We’re gonna be eatin’ soon. Want somethin’ to drink? Pepsi? We got orange drinks. Red, we got any beer?’
    â€˜I think so,’ Red said.
    â€˜Whataya have, Eddie?’ Elvis asked.
    â€˜I’ll have what you’re having.’
    â€˜Pepsi,’ Elvis said, ‘Red, get Eddie a Pepsi, will you?’
    â€˜Sure thing, E.’
    Red exited the room, and I was alone with Elvis, and his gun. He had set the sandwich down on the table to shake hands, but he still gripped the gun in his left hand. I could hear the pool balls clanking in the other room.
    â€˜The guys are shootin’ some pool before we eat,’ Elvis said.
    â€˜Will they be coming to Vegas?’ I asked.
    â€˜Oh, yeah,’ he said, ‘most of my boys will be