Little Green Elvis: And Other Stories

By Kelly A. Jacob

LITTLE GREEN ELVIS culls oddities, rarities, and off-kilter musings from the hitherto unpublished oeuvre of Kelly Jacob. In a collection spanning over two decades, ELVIS treats readers to crystalline shards of razor-sharp Jacob wit and wrath. Written without the faintest appeal to commercialism and presented without the slightest compromise, the eccentric and wholly individual stories and prose fragments which comprise LITLE GREEN ELVIS are hit-and-run, shock-and-awe blasts of brilliance providing insight into the workings of Jacob's keen artistic sensibility.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 15, 2004
• ISBN: 9781462840571

Kelly A. Jacob

KELLY A. JACOB LIVES AND WORKS IN MICHIGAN, WHERE HER HOBBIES INCLUDE PAINTING, WATCHING MOVIES, AND TENDING HER GARDEN OF GRUDGES.

Book preview

ACT ONE:

OLDE WORLD HUMOUR

Rachel

Rachel gets up early when she’s in the islands. Just as in West Bloomfield, there are many shops to explore.

After a luxurious yawn and a stretch, she glides to the bathroom with the ease and gaity of one with a sense of purpose. The special shampoo and conditioner she bought just for the trip leaves her hair so shiny and silky. It was on sale for $17.50. She’s careful to lock the door when she leaves.

Breakfast was yummy, and the quaint islanders stared at Rachel all through it. How different I must seem to them! she thought.

She was wearing the cute green island-print cotton dress she’d purchased the previous day for only $73. What a steal!

The day was windy, and sunny enough to warrant wearing the smart red cat-shaped sunglasses she’d tucked into her canvas tote with the hand-painted pelicans on it. (Only $49!)

A dark-complexioned man shadowed Rachel as she flitted from shop to shop. She noticed him ducking into a nearby doorway just as she was entering Java Wraps.

How exciting! she thought. Just like a romance novel. He’s never seen anyone like me before! I’ll smile slightly and mysteriously at him the next time we pass.

Java Wraps was everything the sign had promised, and Rachel purchased an adorable collection of shorts and tops, the same style in different colour, $82.50 apiece. The man was gone when she stepped out of the store. Hmmm she thought to herself.

She peered at the teeming mass of tourists through her red-coloured eyeglasses. How tacky those people must seem to the islanders she thought, adjusting the strap on her lime-green maid of the tropics sundress. Just then, a small child with a fat, protruding belly, wide guileless eyes, and grubby black hair tugged at Rachel’s dress. He stared up at her in desperation, muttering something unintelligible. She pulled away from the child’s grip almost instantly; his hands were filthy, and with disgust she noticed a smudge on her dress, where his hand had been.

Go AWAY! she spat angrily. These island children were so rude! They thought nothing of stalking up to complete strangers and demanding hand-outs. It made Rachel sick, that sort of thing.

The child slunk away into the crowd, eyes lowered.

Rachel decided to go to Stixx for lunch, which, although not as expensive and fine a dining experience as the Commanche Club, had marvelous strawberry daquiries, and allowed Rachel to study the more common crowd of visitors and natives, which she found enormously fascinating. Some of them were quite fat and even unattractive, and yet they still seemed happy somehow. Everyone has their little story to tell, she thought, charitably.

The cute dark island waiter slapped a menu in front of her and scooped up the tip left by a previous customer. He’s staring at my breasts Rachel thought. Your order? the man asked, dryly.

She gave him a big smile, the one she reserved for people she felt sorry for, and ordered the vegetable quiche, with a half-quesadilla. The waiter snatched her menu back, slammed a water glass in front of her, and stalked off toward the kitchen. He gestured something to the busboy, who then looked at Rachel and laughed lewdly.

Rachel thought it quaint how these island men reacted to her slim, tan legs, blond hair and green eyes. She sipped at her drink.

She was wondering if she should double back to that neat jewelry shop and purchase the elephant-shaped jade charm she’d been admiring ($105.00) when the dark-complexioned man who had been following her appeared and slid into the chair across from her. I knew he’d have to follow me she thought excitedly.

Hello the stranger said, in a throaty tone which might have been mistaken for a mumble if it hadn’t been for the penetrating eyes and roguish lock of black hair that tumbled impishly unto his forehead. He speaks english! thought Rachel, her heart a-thunder. Hello yourself, she said silkily, swinging her long hair back behind her lovely shoulder and thrusting her chest out just a bit. You’ve been following me.

You blame me? he asked, stroking her chin with his dusky finger. Rachel winced from the touch. Who knows where he’s been! She hadn’t expected him to move so fast. It must be the islander’s way, she thought.

I don’t know she said quickly, irritated with herself for not having been able to formulate a more charming response.

Such lovely blue eyes … he purred.

Green! she thought angrily. What was he, some kind of moron? Thank you she said, sweetly. He was very good-looking for a dark man.

You are so beautiful he whispered, sliding into the seat next to her. Rachel was uncomfortable, but allowed him to proceed. How forbidden and adventurous to have an affair with a dark man! What would mother and father say, not to mention all their friends at the golf club!

Let’s leave here he whispered into Rachel’s ear, stroking her long blond hair.

Goodness! she thought. These island men are so amorphous!

She smiled nervously. But my food hasn’t arrived yet!

What is food? he whispered, smiling.

Rachel was drunk with the scent of this dark, handsome man who had fallen so quickly in love with her. She took his arm and left the restaurant with him. My hotel’s this way she said, pointing.

What would everyone at home think, she wondered impishly. How adventurous this was! So taboo! Just the sort of thing Rachel thought should happen when one is beautiful, and vacationing in the islands.

The dark man’s gaze, which Rachel thought centered around her breasts far too often, might have been mistaken for malice had it not been for his clean white smile, and the strength and virility of his gait. Rachel was delirious with desire.

They reached the hotel room, and the man flung himself at her passionately, covering her with wet kisses and tearing her dress in his haste to remove it. He can barely wait, he’s so in love with me! Rachel thought, and through the haze of her animal terror at what was about to happen, she was glad she had renewed her pill prescription.

He made love to her with a ferocity which might have been mistaken for rape, if Rachel hadn’t known it was due to his islander’s passionate blood. And hopefully, the bruises would fade by the time she arrived home. The man turned away from her immediately after withdrawing, and fell into a loud snore. I guess I was too much woman for him, she reflected. Soon she slept, too.

When she awoke, the dark man had gone.

Ah! she thought, dabbing aloe gel on the cuts and scrapes he’d given her, just a mad, marvelous fling. He knew he could never possess me. Knew he could never mean anything more to me than just a passionate, passing dream … so he left, not wanting to spoil the wonder and perfection of our adventure.

She luxuriated in the creamy delight of this thought for most of the afternoon.

Upon rising, Rachel realized with horror that her purse, traveler’s checks, and jewel case were missing. She remembered the cleaning woman she had seen in the hall earlier, and went downstairs to report the incident to the manager and have the woman fired.

1984

Zou-Zou Loses Her Memory

The day Zou-Zou the trained circus elephant lost her memory was as pure as the first spittle of sunlight from a wet day’s mouth, and displayed a sky as brilliant and blue as the glint of a stolen aquamarine ring on the pinky of a tanned con. It was a day as any other at Boredomm & Daily circus.

Fred the elephant trainer threw down the enter-n-exit ramp from Zou-Zou’s car with the slick assurance of one who has done his job well for a very long time. He lit his customary cigarette, placed it in the center of his mouth, and stood confidently to the side of the ramp, waiting for Zou-Zou, Boredomm’s most popular attraction, to slowly descend, and (as was customary) snatch Fred’s cigarette with her playful snout. He was halfway down the cigarette when it occured to him nothing was happening.

He waited a few more minutes. There was nary a movement from the great, wrinkle-clad mammal, only a slow rhythm of labored breaths.

This sudden deviation from routine tossed Fred into an immediate panic, as he was not a patient sort of fellow. Hey Zou-Zou! ya havin’ a cow in there or what? Come on out! he thundered into the shadowed car. He swiftly darted his head about the grounds to see if anyone was looking. It wouldn’t do to have any witnesses to this humiliating rebellion; no sir, it just wouldn’t do. He threw the cigarette down and stomped on it. Come on out now, ya playin’ a game with me or what? he shouted. The great beast ignored him. Again, he scanned the area for interlopers. In particular, he looked about for Mr. Boredomm or Mr. Daily, to see if either of them had noticed that Zou-Zou was not exiting her crate. Ringworm the midget threw a curious glance towards the general direction of the elephant’s car, but continued on his way. He looked unwashed and irritated about something. Everyone was