Baby, Let's Play House Part 43

Elvis had now reached a critical level of drug use. On September 27, 1974, before a show at Cole Field House in College Park, Maryland, Tony Brown, Elvis's new keyboard man who joined the show that fall as part of Voice, watched in anguish as Elvis fell to his knees getting out of the limousine. ("I don't even know how we got him on the plane," Red told Sonny.) His performance that night reflected his woozy state, and fans and reviewers alike expressed dismay.

In the audience was Barbara Hearn, Elvis's Memphis girlfriend from 1956. She was living in the Washington, D.C., area with her husband, James Smith, and they attended the show with two other couples.

"Oh, I was so sad! I had planned to go down and to speak to Mr. Presley, and I would have gone back to say h.e.l.lo to Elvis, too, but after sitting through the show, I didn't want to. I had wanted my friends to see how special he was, but he was anything but special."

Elvis and Diana Goodman depart the hotel for his concert at the Na.s.sau County Veterans Memorial Coliseum, Uniondale, New York, July 19, 1975. Diana, Miss Georgia USA, later enjoyed a short stint on Hee Haw Hee Haw, as Linda Thompson had before her. (Ron Galella) (Ron Galella)

Chapter Thirty-Three.

Flickering White Light In October, Elias Ghanem became increasingly concerned about Elvis's distended colon and ordered a series of tests. The results were not extraordinary, but Elvis was now traveling with a trunk of Fleet's enemas, which some of the guys groused about carrying, and his bowels were so unpredictable that he would often sleep with a towel wrapped around his midsection. colon and ordered a series of tests. The results were not extraordinary, but Elvis was now traveling with a trunk of Fleet's enemas, which some of the guys groused about carrying, and his bowels were so unpredictable that he would often sleep with a towel wrapped around his midsection.

Lamar saw that "he would be so d.a.m.n drugged up, he couldn't make it to the bathroom. Or he'd get in there and start back out, and be so groggy he'd fall down on the floor. That's where they'd find him."

Dr. Ghanem had recently added a new wing onto his house for celebrity patients and suggested that Elvis come there for a "sleep diet," for which he would be sedated and take only liquid nourishment. The idea was to force Elvis to rest, and in the process, let him lose fifteen pounds before his next tour. Sheila took the first shift, staying about a week. Linda would return with him for a second stint in December.

Elvis originally told Sheila about it when they were lying in bed on Monovale. She didn't like the sound of it, but "he said, 'Baby, Ghanem's got the sleep diet,' and it was the first time that he and I were making a decision together, and I didn't want to nix it."

There was no way that Elvis could be kept totally asleep without general anesthesia, Sheila learned, and Dr. Ghanem was often not there.

"It was the worst time that I ever endured," she says. Elvis often woke up in the middle of the night and wanted a papaya shake, but it wouldn't be time for it, or he would spill it, and as soon as Sheila changed the sheets, he'd soil them. Then she'd get him up and take him to the bathroom, but "he would have to crawl. I would stay awake all night. I had my entire face break out from the stress."

In September, when Elvis was home in Memphis, he met fourteen-year-old Reeca Smith, a friend of Ricky Stanley. His fortieth birthday loomed in January, and Elvis was doing everything he could to stave off depression. It was the number he had set for himself to deliver his "message" to the world, and he felt defeated, that he still hadn't found his purpose. Reeca, with her long, thick, blond hair, was just the sort of young girl he always delighted in mentoring. Smith, a friend of Ricky Stanley. His fortieth birthday loomed in January, and Elvis was doing everything he could to stave off depression. It was the number he had set for himself to deliver his "message" to the world, and he felt defeated, that he still hadn't found his purpose. Reeca, with her long, thick, blond hair, was just the sort of young girl he always delighted in mentoring.

"He was dating Linda at the time, but he mentioned that I reminded him of Lisa, because we both had blond hair. He came over to my house and met my parents, and my dad just loved him, because he was so friendly and such a gentleman. Elvis told him, 'With the age difference, you probably think it's crazy for me to see your daughter. But I think she is a wonderful girl and I have great intentions.' " He called her his "Li'l Lioness" for a jacket she wore with a big fur collar. "He said he loved the way it framed my face."

The relationship lasted only a few months, and mostly they spent time just hanging out and watching television downstairs at Graceland. He needed somebody to keep him company, and he took delight in buying her nice outfits, including a long, ornate suede-and-leather coat that fed her dream of becoming a model. ("When he gave me the clothes, he was just like a kid. He was so excited, seeing me happy.") Elvis also counseled her about the dangers of prescription drugs, saying he didn't ever want to catch her taking them. "In fact, Ricky tried to give me something one time, and Elvis heard about it, and oh, my goodness, he hit the ceiling."

Overall, Reeca considered Elvis to be extremely protective.

"He didn't take advantage of me. He kissed me, but they were just sweet, innocent kisses. There were a few make-out sessions, and we would make out for a long time, but that's all, nothing where he would try to go any further. I remember he would kiss me and say, 'You are just a beautiful little girl.' "

Her father, Ed Smith, let her accept the silver Trans Am Elvis bought her, even though she wasn't old enough to drive, but when Elvis wanted to take her on a plane ride to Nashville, Ed drew the line. Reeca was ready to end it anyway, which she did in February 1975.

"I saw the decline in his health, and it scared me. He had gained a lot of weight over that period, and he just didn't seem as happy. It upset me, just knowing his situation. I got to where I would tell my mom I didn't even want to take his calls, because I just felt helpless, and it was sad seeing it happen."

One day when Reeca was there, Elvis called everyone in the house to his room, where he held a meditation-a seance, really-to talk to Gladys. Reeca hated hearing him "slurring . . . just really kind of out of it," since he tried to be alert whenever he was with her. "It broke my heart. He told his mother how much he missed her, and that he loved her, and that he couldn't wait to see her. I got a weird feeling when he was talking to her, because it was like a sadness came over the room. Then he wanted to be alone for a little bit, and everybody left."

In late December, the Colonel canceled Elvis's January 1975 engagement in Vegas, citing health reasons. It was a prophetic call. About 7 A.M. A.M. on January 29, Elvis and Linda were sleeping at Graceland when "I woke up and I felt something wasn't right. His breathing was strange, so I shook him and I said, 'Honey, are you okay?' He said, 'I can't get my breath.' So I called for the nurse, and she brought some oxygen over, and we had to rush him to the hospital." on January 29, Elvis and Linda were sleeping at Graceland when "I woke up and I felt something wasn't right. His breathing was strange, so I shook him and I said, 'Honey, are you okay?' He said, 'I can't get my breath.' So I called for the nurse, and she brought some oxygen over, and we had to rush him to the hospital."

Again Linda stayed with him for two weeks during which time Elvis grew a beard. And while the Colonel issued a statement that Elvis was undergoing tests on his liver, Dr. Nick once more tried to find a way to control Elvis's use of prescription drugs. In the middle of that chaos, Vernon suffered a heart attack and was admitted to Baptist Memorial Hospital, where he recuperated in the room next to his son.

When Elvis was discharged on Valentine's Day, either Dr. Nick or nurse Henley came by each afternoon to dole out a controlled amount of medication. By March, their patient was feeling well enough to record again, flying out to Los Angeles and going into RCA's Sunset Boulevard studios on the tenth. He brought along both Lisa Marie and Sheila, to whom he sang Don McLean's "And I Love You So," begging his girlfriend to "step up, let me sing to you, baby."

On the eighteenth, he began making up his Vegas dates, and ten days into the engagement, he received actress-singer Barbra Streisand and her boyfriend Jon Peters, formerly her hairdresser, in his dressing room. The pair hoped to interest him in their updated remake of A Star Is Born, A Star Is Born, casting Elvis as the aging rock icon in love with the rising young starlet. Elvis was gleeful at the challenge, hungering for a serious role that would make everybody forget his string of celluloid humiliations. casting Elvis as the aging rock icon in love with the rising young starlet. Elvis was gleeful at the challenge, hungering for a serious role that would make everybody forget his string of celluloid humiliations.

He was poignant in his discussions with Kathy Westmoreland, telling her it was his last opportunity to prove himself on the screen. "People aren't going to remember me, because I've never done anything lasting. I've never made a cla.s.sic film to show what I can do." But to the guys, he was more upbeat, excitedly saying, "Can you believe that Barbra Streisand wants me to be with her in that movie?"

Yet after much back and forth, the Colonel denounced it as too cheap a deal, saying Streisand and Peters were only trying to take advantage of him. Once he got over his initial disappointment, Elvis, too, came to that decision, and worried that a loser's role might actually make him seem seem like a loser. "He was really more upset than most people know," Priscilla says. The Colonel, who would never allow his client to accept second billing anyway, helped him save face in the press: "There was never no plan for him to do like a loser. "He was really more upset than most people know," Priscilla says. The Colonel, who would never allow his client to accept second billing anyway, helped him save face in the press: "There was never no plan for him to do A Star Is Born A Star Is Born. He told me to make the contract stiff enough where they would turn it down, 'cause he did not want to do it."

That spring Sheila came home with him to Graceland, where he talked to her about moving in. He was finished with Linda, he said. It was not precisely true, even though he bought her a house in Memphis and an apartment in Los Angeles so that she could pursue an acting career. Linda was furious that Sheila was in Memphis, and when she started spending a lot of his money in retaliation-$30,000 on his MasterCard alone-the words moving in. He was finished with Linda, he said. It was not precisely true, even though he bought her a house in Memphis and an apartment in Los Angeles so that she could pursue an acting career. Linda was furious that Sheila was in Memphis, and when she started spending a lot of his money in retaliation-$30,000 on his MasterCard alone-the words gold digger gold digger floated around the group. ("She was a beauty queen, and she knew how to get what she wanted," Sheila says.) But Linda had her defenders, too, Billy suggesting she'd earned it, and Marty insisting Elvis encouraged her to spend money so she'd be away and he could do as he pleased. floated around the group. ("She was a beauty queen, and she knew how to get what she wanted," Sheila says.) But Linda had her defenders, too, Billy suggesting she'd earned it, and Marty insisting Elvis encouraged her to spend money so she'd be away and he could do as he pleased.

Sheila, meanwhile, found Elvis increasingly difficult to be around and worried that he might be having a breakdown. At the Memphian one night, she asked him a technical question about film, and coming on the heels of the Streisand debacle, it seemed to open a floodgate of anger and resentment about the mismanagement of his Hollywood career. He insisted they immediately leave the theater, and on the way home, he stopped at a drugstore, where they pulled a Bonnie and Clyde, Sheila distracting the druggist with questions about menstrual products while Elvis cleaned out the pharmacy. Later, he mailed the druggist a check.

That same spring, Elvis met twenty-four-year-old model-actress Mindi Miller through Ron Smith, who later became well known for establishing the Celebrity Look-Alikes firm. Ron was another of Elvis's friends who promised to be on the lookout for girls, and ran into Mindi at a Hollywood disco called the Candystore. Elvis had just broken up with Linda Thompson, Ron told her, and invited her to a party at the Holmby Hills house. But when Mindi arrived, she found only Elvis's guys, who proceeded to screen her as their boss's potential new girlfriend.

At five foot eight, Mindi was tall like Linda, and shared a beauty pageant background, but she was also smart, poised, and utterly unimpressed with celebrities, having come from a family of performers. But meeting Elvis was something that intrigued her. She'd seen him driving on Sunset Boulevard sometime before in his Stutz Blackhawk, with his slicked-back hair and EP EP gla.s.ses, and she had a premonition she would some day know him. However, that night, when the guys gave Elvis the signal and he strode into the room in a tennis hat, she didn't even recognize him. It was a funny bit of business that broke the ice. gla.s.ses, and she had a premonition she would some day know him. However, that night, when the guys gave Elvis the signal and he strode into the room in a tennis hat, she didn't even recognize him. It was a funny bit of business that broke the ice.

From the beginning, they settled into a natural groove. He looked at her in astonishment when she turned down a ring ("I'm sorry, I wasn't raised to take an expensive gift from a man like that"), and he was more impressed when she said no to a car, though later she did accept a Trans Am.

They spent the first night together without even kissing. Mostly, they laughed and talked, and even sang a little bit, both of them, Elvis launching into his new song "T-R-O-U-B-L-E," just as if he were onstage. ("He just sang his little heart out.") They discussed mystical matters, particularly numerology and "how everything in the Bible is a dividend of seven, the highest spiritual number that there is," and he gave her a set of his favorite little books so they could talk about them on the phone.

Mindi shared his open mind and fascination with such subjects, and she could tell how desperate he was for a real connection. But he was upbeat with her, even when he eventually told her that, "When I die, there will be certain people that I will contact and be in touch with beyond the grave." He also told her he was afraid of the dark, and thanked her for not laughing at him.

At 7 A.M. A.M., as she was leaving, he put on a karate demonstration for her with the guys and asked if she'd like to learn the discipline. "I'd love to," she replied. "But I won't be here. I'm moving back to Rome." Elvis was shocked. "What do you mean? You don't live here?"

She explained that most of her work was in Europe, and that it only made sense for her to live there. Elvis turned to the guys and told them they could go, and then he asked Mindi to come back upstairs to the bedroom.

"Listen," he said. "You know I would like to see you again. Do you have to move back to Europe?"

"Well, I don't have to, but I just came back to close up my apartment and sell my car. Everything is packed and ready to go. I'm supposed to leave in three days."

"No," Elvis said, shaking his head. "You can't. I won't let you." Then he called downstairs to the guys: "Make sure you get her number and address. She's coming on the next tour."

"Look . . . Elvis," she said. "I'll be very straight with you. I have no intention of staying here, but if I did, it would only be to be your girlfriend."

"Fair enough," he countered. "You're my girlfriend." But he had to be honest, too. It wasn't in him to commit to just one woman. He was put on earth to entertain, and he belonged to the world. That might have sounded crazy to a lot of people, but Mindi knew it was true. He kissed her then, and sent her home to get some sleep. But she had hardly gotten home when he was on the phone: "I just wanted to tell you that I'm really looking forward to showing you my life," he said, and the next day, he wrote her a $5,000 check to retrieve her things from Rome and set up her apartment again.

She went with him on tour that April, where she made a lifelong friend of Shirley Dieu. But when she landed in Florida, it was the guys who gave her the real indoctrination to life with Elvis.

"They took me aside and said, 'There are certain rules you need to follow. First, you don't leave Elvis alone. If he gets up in the middle of the night and goes to the bathroom, you get up with him. Then you knock on the door to see if he's okay, and then make sure that he gets back to bed. If for some reason he doesn't answer or something's wrong, here's who to call.' "

Like Linda, Mindi watched him constantly and refused to leave him unattended, laying her head on his chest as he slept to monitor his breathing, and "putting my hand under his nostrils to make sure there was air." But she never saw him O.D. or abuse medication, and balked at giving him shots of anything stronger than vitamin B-12. "I took care of him, so on my watch, nothing ever happened."

The Florida dates consisted of four nights in Jacksonville, Tampa, and Lakeland. In Jacksonville, Jackie Rowland, now all grown up and married with three children, tried frantically to get in touch with Jerry Schilling at the hotel. Ken Floyd, of the coaching staff of Memphis State, had pa.s.sed along Jerry's name. Ken told her that Elvis could use her help, that he wrestled with serious drug addiction, and that most of his hospital stays were for detoxing. Jerry was one of the few people around Elvis who tried to act in his best interest, he said.

Jackie called Jerry's room from downstairs, but when she got no answer, she asked the desk clerk to ring the room next to it. It was Elvis's room, but Red answered. She told him about her long a.s.sociation with Elvis, Vernon, and Gladys, and that she had pictures to prove it. Red made remarks she found offensive ("I told him I was a lady and that Gladys would be rolling over in her grave for his being so disrespectful"), and after that, he grew angry, saying if she wanted to see Elvis, she should have called earlier.

"You don't need to see him anyway," he barked. "Elvis has changed. I'm busy trying to get him ready for the show, and he's nothing but a problem. I have to give him injections in his feet, because there isn't any place left on him to give them." Then he hung up, leaving Jackie sad and bewildered.

The next morning, Mindi received a reprimand as well, only from Elvis, when she turned up at the breakfast table wearing a robe, her hair up in a towel.

"Uh, honey," he began.

"Yeah?"

"I don't mind the towel or the robe, but next time I want you to put on some eye makeup or somethin'. You're lookin' a little scary."

They both burst out laughing, and then Mindi asked, "Do I have to do it now?"

"No, honey," he told her, "but when you're done with breakfast, get all made up. Look real pretty."

She understood the drill-that Elvis's girlfriend did not smoke or drink in public, and that she looked like a proper lady at all times. But the brunette drew the line on dyeing her hair black, and when he wanted her to have cosmetic dental work ("You need bigger teeth . . . they're tiny"), she said a model couldn't just make drastic changes overnight.

Their relationship was healthy enough that they could openly discuss all kinds of things, including Elvis's weight. He told her he was embarra.s.sed about it, and worried that his fans might not still love him. Mindi a.s.sured him that they did, but she also pointed out that he had no conception of nutrition, calories, or portion sizes. When he ate a gargantuan salad and insisted, "It's just a salad, baby. I'm not going to gain weight," she'd say, "Elvis! Yes, you are! It's big enough for five people!" baby. I'm not going to gain weight," she'd say, "Elvis! Yes, you are! It's big enough for five people!"

At another time in his life, they might have made it work. She cared about him, and promised him she would always be there for him whenever he needed her. While she would see other men, she took no serious boyfriend, as he had asked. But then Elvis found out she'd been involved with black actor-football star Fred Williamson, and while it preceded their own relationship, he pulled the plug, just as he had on Joan Blackman when he heard she'd dated a black man, too.

"He wasn't a racist person," Mindi clarifies. "That's just the way he was raised." And so, she continued to be a part of his support team, if only by phone. The one thing she didn't miss was the touring, which she considered both grueling and boring.

Sheila, who didn't like the road, either, went back on tour with him in June 1975, and found it even more intolerable than before. She knew he was tired of playing the same towns over and over, that he needed the lift of a European engagement or something stimulating to break the routine. But she also suspected that a lot of his moodiness was due to what was in his black bag of pharmaceuticals, which she was in charge of carrying. Elvis was so irritable that the slightest thing set him off. He had a huge tantrum in Mobile on June 2, when he found she didn't have her slippers. Then when she announced she needed to go home for a mammogram, she could feel the heat coming off of him at the breakfast table.

"I never would dare say, 'What's the matter, honey?' But his pajama sleeve caught the creamer and tipped it over, and then he cleared the whole table with his arm, and my scrambled eggs, too, and he said, 'You and your f.u.c.kin' tumor!' He didn't want me to go, but I needed the rest. One day with Elvis was like five with anybody else."

Gone were the days when they'd check into some crummy motel on the road and make love in the afternoons. Everybody on tour had known about it, because after Elvis's daily shot of Valium, he'd get so randy that "while all the guys were bringing things in, I had to get in my jammies."

Now Joe was telling her to "get out of this mess," and Ann Pennington, who had become her friend through another girl in L.A., was trying to introduce her to new people. That July after Elvis had recuperated from a cosmetic eye procedure he'd had in mid-June, Sheila was supposed to meet him in Uniondale, New York. But she didn't want to go. In fact, she'd met actor James Caan through Ann, and had already committed to marry him. n.o.body wanted to tell Elvis just yet, so they made up a story that she couldn't fly due to an ear infection.

Determined to have Sheila with him, Elvis told her he'd send a low-flying plane for her. But when she begged off again, he angrily said he would call when he got home. After that, he could barely contain his rage, even onstage. In Uniondale, on July 19, he threw a guitar into the crowd and yelled, "Whoever got the guitar can keep the d.a.m.ned thing-I don't need it anyway."

The following night, in Norfolk, Virginia, he was still out of control, repeating crude s.e.xual remarks about Kathy Westmoreland that he had made in other cities. ("She will take affection from anybody, any place, any time. In fact, she gets it from the whole band.") After that, he raised eyebrows saying he smelled green peppers and onions, and that the Sweet Inspirations "had probably been eating catfish." Finally, a few days later, he accidentally shot Dr. Nick in an Asheville, North Carolina, hotel room, though the bullet, which ricocheted off a chair and hit the physician in the chest, did no real damage.

Taking Sheila's place that tour was Diana Goodman, the reigning Miss Georgia USA, who Elvis picked out of a tour group at the Graceland gates. In some of their photographs, the curvaceous blonde appears dazed, as if the routine of plane, limo, hotel, show-and dealing with a highly unpredictable host-was a nightmare of unimaginable proportions. Their relationship would disintegrate at tour's end.

Elvis's weight had ballooned well over two hundred pounds again, but more disturbing was his bloat. He looked as if he might pop and spiral heavenward. More disturbing, his roundness made him appear as if he were morphing into Gladys. It was as if she had begun to reclaim him.

On the way to play his Vegas dates that August, he again had trouble breathing on the plane. It made a forced landing in Dallas, and after recuperating in a motel for several hours, he continued on.

Joyce Bova slipped into Vegas with Janice, to see if the rumors about his appearance were true. "I thought he must be sick. That show was such a sad sight. He even had trouble trying to straddle a chair."

Joan Blackman had also heard reports, and went to Vegas to see if she could make a connection. "I was just so taken aback. I had changed, too, but when I first saw him, I was stunned. It wasn't just the weight. I saw something that made me very sad. I felt like something had been taken away."

Three days later, the Colonel canceled the rest of the engagement, and Elvis went home to be hospitalized again, this time for multiple ailments: his colon, a fatty liver, a high cholesterol count, general fatigue, and depression. Once again, Linda stayed with him in the hospital. Marian c.o.c.ke, the motherly supervisor of nursing services, came by to see him, and when Dr. Nick suggested that Elvis continue his twenty-four-hour home care, Elvis asked for Mrs. c.o.c.ke, whom he had previously met during his January stay, to supplement Tish Henley.

However, watching over Elvis, Vernon, and Minnie Mae seemed taxing for even two women, so Marian, who never accepted a salary for it, suggested alternating shifts with yet another nurse from the hospital, Kathy Seamon. The night before Elvis's discharge, he signed a picture of himself "To Mrs. c.o.c.ke, the s.e.x symbol of the Babtist [sic]," and when Jerry cracked a joke about "c.o.c.ke and Seamon," Marian picked up an entire pitcher of ice water and poured it down Jerry's shirt. Elvis, who had already surprised the nurse with a white 1976 Pontiac Grand Prix, laughed until he got tears in his eyes, and told Marian she was going to fit in just fine at Graceland.

Near the end of that summer, 1975, he was melancholy again and called Sheila at 4 4 A.M. A.M. "I want you to come home," he said. What did he mean? She "I want you to come home," he said. What did he mean? She was was home. "No, I mean Memphis. I want you at Graceland." There was a great long silence, and then Sheila said she needed some time to think about it. She never really knew if he loved her or if she were just one of the girls, and now she was with Jimmy, and that seemed like the place to stay. She didn't really tell him that, though, just asked about Linda Thompson to shift the focus, and said she was confused. Elvis's voice was so sad she could hardly stand it. She was his last real chance, and he knew it. "Okay, baby," he finally said. They never talked again. home. "No, I mean Memphis. I want you at Graceland." There was a great long silence, and then Sheila said she needed some time to think about it. She never really knew if he loved her or if she were just one of the girls, and now she was with Jimmy, and that seemed like the place to stay. She didn't really tell him that, though, just asked about Linda Thompson to shift the focus, and said she was confused. Elvis's voice was so sad she could hardly stand it. She was his last real chance, and he knew it. "Okay, baby," he finally said. They never talked again.

Next he tried nineteen-year-old Melissa Blackwood, who he'd met earlier in August at a World Football League game. She was just about to give up her crown as queen of the Memphis Southmen, now renamed the Grizzlies, but beauty queen or not, she wasn't used to getting calls at dawn at her parents' house. Elvis sent one of the guys to pick her up at 7 A.M. A.M., and when she was ushered into his bedroom and found him sitting up in bed in his pajamas, she didn't know what to think. He patted the ma.s.sive mattress for her to sit down beside him, and he could tell it made her nervous, even though he promised her nothing would happen.

"He kind of held my hand, and we just sat and talked, and he called me 'Brown Eyes.' There was a little piece of hair on my forehead that grew down like a cowlick, and he played with that and said, 'Look at this hair,' just like I was a little child."

Soon, he asked her to change into pajamas, too, which made her think he was out of his mind. But she did it, the big sleeves falling miles off her hands. He talked about his childhood for a while, told her how sick his daddy had been, and how trapped he felt by his fame. Then as they sat out on the front porch, he watched her face as a new Grand Prix snaked its way up the drive. "Why?" she asked him. "What did I do to deserve this?" His voice was small and sad. "You came," he said simply.

But Melissa could not stay, not after she fed him yogurt and hot cereal and he started shaking and "got so sick he could barely hold his head up." She watched as he took his pills, and when he struggled to swallow, it scared her so her heart fired like a jackhammer in her chest. She asked him not to take any more, saying he didn't need them, that she'd sing him to sleep, do anything to see him feeling better. "All right," he agreed. "Will you just stay and hold my hand?" Every time she thought he was asleep, he'd wake up and grab her arm and say, "Don't go."

She saw him a few more times, but it was all just too unnerving, especially when he asked her to move in. "Elvis, I'm sorry. I care, but I can't just move in here," she said. "I care, too, babe," he answered. "That's the problem." He was nearly in tears when she left the last time, and though she returned to take him a thank-you card, he wasn't there.

At the same time he saw Melissa, he began romancing JoCathy Brownlee, a bubbly, outgoing junior high health and physical education teacher. They met on August 2, 1975, when Elvis attended a Grizzlies game at the Mid-South Coliseum, where JoCathy worked part-time as a hostess in the press box. She spent the evening getting him whatever he wanted-pizza, c.o.ke-and he picked up on her nickname, J. C., frequently calling her over where he sat with Linda, with whom JoCathy had gone to Memphis State.

Her friend Barbara Klein told her that night that Elvis had been watching her reflection in the gla.s.s, and in a way it all made sense. Like Mindi, JoCathy had a strong feeling Elvis would be in her life somehow, dating back to when she was a child in Indianola, Mississippi, and her father would drive her past Graceland on their trips to Memphis.

When she first moved to town, she lived in Whitehaven, where a family whose property backed up to Graceland would let her stand on their fence to see him when he was out riding his horse. Then she briefly met him at the Memphian in 1974, and had even dated Charlie for a spell, visiting him in his bas.e.m.e.nt digs at Graceland. In fact, she was so into Elvis that she was taking her mother to see him in Vegas in just a few weeks.

When Elvis got up to leave the game on that summer night, JoCathy was not shy about telling him good-bye. She took a look at the scarf he wore with his blue leisure suit, thought of the signature scarves he draped around the necks of his fans, and joked, "Is that a real Elvis scarf?"

"Well, honey," he said, "not really." And with that, he took it off, put it around her neck, pulled her close, and kissed her. "It was right in front of Linda, and I was just like, 'Oh, my G.o.d!' "

That was a Sat.u.r.day, and on Monday, Sonny called Barbara and asked how to get in touch with her friend-Elvis wanted to give her a hundred dollars for being so nice in the press box. He also wanted a date.

"Believe it or not," she says, "I had this sick, sick, feeling." As it happened, she had a new boyfriend, and it was love at first sight. She did nothing, then, trying to make up her mind, when Dr. Nick tracked her down on Thursday at Barbara's house to tell her Elvis was trying to reach her. By coincidence, JoCathy lived in a duplex owned by Miss Patty, Anita Wood's former landlady. "When I got home, the phone was ringing, and this voice said, 'J. C.? E. P.' "

He wanted her to come to the house and meet Lisa Marie, and then go to the Crosstown that very night. Then when they returned, he changed into his black Munsingwear pajamas with the red piping that Aunt Delta had bought him at Sears. JoCathy already felt as if she knew him-they were both from Mississippi and close to their mothers-so she didn't think, "Oh, oh, he's going to attack me." But she did think it was odd when he made several phone calls while he was showing her a book on numerology, and then sent her downstairs to look up the word "esoteric" in the dictionary.

It was just a ruse, of course-he'd ordered a new Grand Prix for her, just as he had Melissa, and it was pulling up in the driveway. "Elvis walked out in front of me and he turned around and said, 'Honey, I hope this one's okay. It was the best I could do at four o'clock in the morning.' "

She didn't quite know what to say-she'd just made her last payment on her Ford Grand Torino-and though she knew how funny it sounded, she asked if she could give her old car to her mother, unless Elvis needed it for the trade-in.

He had a laugh at that-she could do anything she wanted with her old car-and then told her to hop in. He wanted to drive out to the airport to show her the plane he was in the process of buying, a $900,000 Lockheed JetStar. She was behind the wheel and he was sitting beside her, still in his pajamas, when he asked if she had the lights on. Sure, sure, she told him. Farther down the road, he said, "J. C., are you sure you have your lights on?"

"Oh, yeah, my lights are on."

Finally, he reached across her lap and pulled the k.n.o.b, and the highway lit up like daylight. That's when she really felt stupid, but then it wasn't every night she got a car from Elvis.

When they got back to the house, they kissed a few times, but he was never too forward with her, and then he laid his heart on the line. "J. C., I can tell that you're committed to somebody, and I have to protect my feelings. But if anything changes in your relationship, let me know because I want to see you again." She told him okay, and then she walked out front and climbed behind the wheel of her new car. The sun was coming up as she crawled down the winding drive, and the first thing she thought was, "How am I going to explain this to my mother?"

Elvis was not about to give a girl a new car and just let her leave him in it, so two nights later, he showed up at the Grizzlies game and asked if JoCathy could sit with him. Near the end of the evening, he asked her to go to Fort Worth to see his other new plane, The Lisa Marie The Lisa Marie, a $250,000 Convair 880 jet, originally part of the Delta fleet, which was being customized and refurbished at an additional $800,000 as his show plane. From there, they'd probably go on to Las Vegas or Palm Springs, he told her. While it sure sounded good, she said, she couldn't: She had a date.

Only a week had pa.s.sed since she made the remark about the scarf and he'd kissed her, and she had a lot to process. He then took another girl from the game instead, but when he came back to town, he saw JoCathy every night until he left for his Vegas engagement. There, JoCathy and her mother were his guests in one of the round booths, and when Linda saw her there, "She put two and two together." For the next three months, he would find a way to see JoCathy every time Linda was away.

Soon, they were spotted around town more and more, particularly at the Crosstown Theatre, and at the Colonial or Chickasaw country clubs, where they played racquetball with Billy and Jo Smith, George and Barbara Klein, and Billy and Angie Stanley. Elvis had taken up the sport at Dr. Nick's urging and was building his own court at home. "He was truly trying to get his act together," she says, though his eating habits-six small yogurts at a time from his little refrigerator off the bedroom-were still too poor for him to lose much weight.

One day, one of JoCathy's pupils asked, "Miss Brownlee, are you dating Elvis Presley?" JoCathy told her she didn't discuss her personal life with students, and the child said, "Well, I went home and told my mama that you were dating Elvis Presley, and my mama said, 'There's no way Elvis is dating a P.E. teacher. He only dates beauty queens and movie stars.' "

JoCathy did seem an unusual choice for him, given his history and the fact that they really had little in common. However, they were playful together-at one point he jokingly told her she could use a nose job, and they both laughed when she said he needed to get his entire body retreaded. But when he brought out The Impersonal Life The Impersonal Life and asked her to read it to him, she thought, "This makes no sense. To this day, I have no idea what that book was about." And while he liked her pretty hands and feet, he couldn't really perform s.e.xually if he were medicated, though it was obvious to her that he hadn't lost his desire. When it came right down to it, she wasn't sure how she would characterize the relationship. and asked her to read it to him, she thought, "This makes no sense. To this day, I have no idea what that book was about." And while he liked her pretty hands and feet, he couldn't really perform s.e.xually if he were medicated, though it was obvious to her that he hadn't lost his desire. When it came right down to it, she wasn't sure how she would characterize the relationship.

"I cared a lot about him, and I knew he cared about me, but it wasn't going anywhere. He did tell me a few times that he loved me, but it would be right before he dozed off to sleep. I'm not going to say that it was something that it wasn't, but I wouldn't take anything for it."