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comin’. What about Frank? Is he in Vegas now?’
    â€˜Yes,’ I said, ‘he says he’s gonna go to your show.’
    â€˜Great!’ Elvis said. ‘I’ll introduce him to the crowd. He’s a real star.’
    Elvis calling Frank Sinatra a real star? I wondered what Elvis considered himself to be?
    Red West came back in at that point, carrying a cold can of Pepsi, and handed it to me.
    â€˜Cook says the chicken fried steak’s almost ready, E.,’ Red said. ‘And the meat loaf.’
    â€˜OK, Red.’
    Elvis leaned forward, picked up a fudge cookie and shoved it into his mouth.
    â€˜OK, Eddie,’ he said, ‘sit down and tell me the Eddie G. story. How’d you end up in Vegas?’
    â€˜I was born in Brooklyn …’
    We talked for a while about how I got to Vegas, learned the city, got it wired, how I had met Frank, Dino and Sammy, and all the while he held onto the gun, sometimes twirling it like a six-shooter. Once or twice he pointed it at the TV, and I thought he was going to pull the trigger.
    â€˜You hungry, Eddie?’ he asked, suddenly.
    â€˜I could eat,’ I said, although nothing on the coffee table was tempting me.
    â€˜Red, tell the cook to bring the food down here, will ya?’
    â€˜Sure thing, E.’
    â€˜And get some of the boys to help her carry it!’ he called after him. ‘You’re gonna love this food, Eddie. I got the best cooks in Memphis.’

TEN
    I t was Red and his cousin Sonny who brought the food down, plates of it, and another man I hadn’t seen before.
    â€˜Hey, Eddie,’ Elvis said, ‘meet my buddy, Nick Adams.’
    Adams turned to me, holding a platter of chicken fried steaks. He was short, blond, not handsome, but with an easy, charming smile. I knew where I’d seen him before. He was TV’s
The Rebel
, Johnny Yuma.
    â€˜Hey,’ he said, extending his hand, ‘nice to meet you.’
    â€˜Same here,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen your show.’
    â€˜Whoa,’ Adams said, looking at Elvis and grinning, ‘you notice he said he’s seen the show, not that he liked it.’ He set the platter down on the big coffee table in front of the sofa. Red set down a platter of meat loaf right next to it, and Sonny added the vegetables.
    â€˜I’ll get some plates and forks and stuff,’ he said, rushing from the room.
    â€˜I liked it well enough,’ I said, ‘just not as much as
Wanted: Dead or Alive
or
Have Gun Will Travel
.’
    â€˜Really good shows,’ Adams said. ‘Hey, I did
Hell Is For Heroes
with Steve.’
    â€˜Bobby Darin, too,’ I said. I looked at Elvis. ‘Bobby’s playing Vegas right now.’
    â€˜That’s great, son,’ Elvis said. ‘We can catch his show. Red, tell the guys to come and eat.’
    Red went into the pool room and came back with Billy Smith, Lamar Fike and Marty Lacker. Sonny came in behind them with a stack of dishes and a handful of knives and forks.
    â€˜Dig in, boys!’ Elvis said. And – as they say in the South – we commenced to eating.
    â€˜We hear you’re gonna show us a good time in Vegas,’ Sonny said.
    â€˜I’m going to give it a good try,’ I promised. I looked at Adams. ‘Are you coming, too?’
    â€˜Naw, I got work to do,’ he said. ‘I’m doin’ an episode of
The Outer Limits
.’
    â€˜But for tonight,’ Elvis said, ‘he’s here. We’re all gonna watch a movie on TV. But first dessert, up in the kitchen. The cook made a big bowl of banana pudding. Come on!’
    Elvis bounded up off the sofa, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His eyes were shining. His pupils like pin pricks. He sprang out the door, followed by the others. I looked at Red, who had remained in the room, presumably to escort me.
    â€˜Another moocher,’ he said, as we went out the door.
    We watched a couple of