Birth of Elvis and Aaron Presley - historical fiction

 The Birth of Elvis and Aaron Presley

Tupelo, Mississippi

January

Gladys, Vern and Elvis Presley

Gladys Presley concentrated, trying to maintain her balance as she stood, one foot on each kitchen chair, trying to wallpaper the highest parts of the bedroom wall. The cold, January air crept into her house from between the wallboards and she was determined to stop it, before the day was over. Each morning, she walked to downtown Tupelo and begged yesterday’s newspaper from the barbers. If they suspected the truth as to why she wanted the papers they never said.  It was the depression and people did the best they could to get by.

Once home, she carefully looked through the paper; reading the things that caught her attention and picking out the best pictures for her walls. She learned how to combine the words with pictures with an eye of an artist.

The picture ads for women’s clothes would go on her bedroom walls. Pretty shoes and coats and dresses; the things she once dreamed she would  have before she was married and life seemed an open book. The news and local photos were for the wall behind the stove and the food ads for the kitchen and that was all the walls there were. There were only these two rooms. The outhouse and pump were out back.  Maybe one day she would paper the outhouse too. She knew a woman who used the seed catalogs and it was real nice.

Wallpaper paste from flour and water was easy to make and worked well if you were patient in getting out the lumps and stirring it till it was smooth. Some people just didn’t take the time to do it well and the edges cracked and peeled back.

The cup was small so she had to get up and down often to mix a new batch.  She stopped to rub her back.  Her feet were so swollen they barely fit in her one pair of shoes. She had taken to wearing her husband’s old boots to the outhouse and to get water.

With a sigh of acceptance born from determination, Gladys poured water from a white metal pitcher into the small, rose covered teacup and stirred in the flour. She knew she should have been using what little flour they had left for biscuits and gravy and not for wallpaper. 

Her friends at the shirt factory used to debate what was worst; being hungry or being cold. She now knew that lonely was worst than hunger or cold.  Missing her friends at the garment factory; the arguments, the teasing, the singing; this was a cold no matter of wallpaper could keep out. She even missed her seven brothers and sisters; the ones she had been so anxious to leave when she ran off and married.

Gladys chipped some ice to suck on from the wooden icebox.   It eased the churning in her stomach and the sour taste in her mouth. The check from the factory had been her grocery money and now even that was gone.  She knew when the boss had called her into the office, he was sending her home.  He had let her stay as long as he could and she was grateful for that.

January 6, 1935. She pasted the headlines and front page of the paper in the kitchen so she’d have something to read while she washed dishes. There really weren’t too many dishes. It was just her and Vern and most nights Vern didn’t come home for dinner anyway. Shame spread within her as she reflected on her running away with Vern. He had been so eager, so excited to marry her but now that she was pregnant he was hardly home. Out looking for work, he said, but she knew better by the smell of liquor and women on his breath when he climbed into bed beside her.

 A neighbors dog barked, interrupting the quiet and bringing the outside world back in.  She stopped, listening for the signs of who might be coming. Her mother in law hollered a familiar “ yahoo, anyone home?” and then just came straight in without knocking.

Gladys smiled.  It was Edna, coming up the porch steps singing. It was her way of letting you know she was coming. She sang all the way up the road and up the steps and into the front door. She said she didn’t want to surprise nobody. If she sang the gospels, everyone knew a baby was on its way. If she sang a love song, it was just for a visit. This way everyone in their neighborhood knew everyone’s business about birthing. The way Edna put it was that a baby was special for everyone in the community and so the good news needed to be shared so everyone could stop what they were doing an offer up a prayer. Edna said she was called to be a midwife by the Good Lord and for that reason she always had a lot to sing and be happy for.

Gladys was grateful for the company but knew Edna better not catch her up on the chair. Quickly she got down, hid the cup and papers under the bed and wiped her hands quickly on a towel.

“Hey Edna. Come on in. I’m jest lyin here, resting like you told me.”

Edna inspected the newly papered walls, still wet and warm from the paste and shook her head with tender disapproval.

“Come sit. Sit and let me look at those ankles.”  Edna said with a firm yet gentle look. 

 Gladys reluctantly sat and let Edna take her left foot into her strong hands.  She began to rub them and talk about the little things of life.  She sang too and Gladys let the warmth of the steam and Edna’s voice calm her.  Then her right foot. Normally she used oil but with the depression there was no oil for pregnant women’s feet.

Edna always brought a bag of herbs for tea. It was her way to grow things and to walk in the forest looking for plants for the women of Tupelo.  She learned from the people who lived out by the river; the Indians and Cajuns.  There were a few that had escaped the long forced walks to the reservations;  the ones whose blood she suspected ran through hers though no one ever talked about it except in whispers she wasn’t supposed to hear.

Every month the tea was a little different depending on what Edna thought she might be needing. Gladys looked forward to her visits and when she had some honey, the bitter tea became sweet with summer floating warm within her.

 While the tea was seeping in hot water, Edna pulled down on Gladys’s lower eyelids. 

“Its white in there. “ She stared into Gladys’s eyes and looked around the room for any signs of food. “Gladys Love Smith Presley, what have you been eating?” She called her by her full name which was her way of showing she was serious.

Gladys hung her head and hoped she wouldn’t notice the ice shavings from the icebox. Edna had already warned her about that.

“Cook your greens in a cast iron pan. That’ll help.” Edna offered. “ The young nettles and lambs quarters can be gathered down by the creek.  There free for the picking.”

The midwife poured the hot water into the cup catching the leaves in cheesecloth so they could be used again later.

“When’s Vern coming home?” she asked without looking up. “Heard he was working at the EPA with his brother?  He bringing home food or spending it all at the pool hall?”

 She had known Vern since he was a boy; knew Vern and many a man like him.  Eyes that took you in and then turned the other way from a shame they could not shake.

Gladys wanted her midwife to know that he wasn’t that bad. Not as bad as her Daddy with his moonshine and slapping and her Mama in bed with the TB and all the brothers trying to get in her bed at night. The sisters all sleeping together to fend them off.  She wanted Edna to know the good things too. 

The baby moved hard up against her ribs and she rubbed him back down into place.

“I should have finished school.”  Gladys whispered.  “We were just two kids who ran off and got married when we should have been in school. He was just so cute and I couldn’t stand to be home anymore. “

“How old are you two? “ Edna sat back down and started sewing some pads for after the birth.

He was seventeen and I was twenty-one. We lied so the judge would marry us. Lied and had to borrow the $3 for the license. We’d been up all night skating and dancing and well, I guess the lights and the booze made us crazy.  I promised God I wouldn’t be with a man without being married so he said we’d get married and we did.”

Gladys picked up the sewing and helped Edna.  They were folded up newspaper covered with clean cloth. ‘You’ll need about forty of them” Edna instructed her.

“Well at least you have a home to your self. Its more than most “

Gladys looked around her two-room house.  Yes it was better than most and soon she would have the baby to play with and love. She’d have her own family.

Gladys began slowly. “We borrowed the $180 to build this from Orville Bean. You know Orville. He owns all this land for his hogs and cattle and the land where Ma and Pa Presley live next door. Vern and his dad and Vester built it.  It’s not much but it’s a place to lie down and have my baby in. It’s a start.”

Edna smiled at Gladys and nodded. It was a start.

“Excuse me. I have to go out back.”   Gladys said as she made an effort to stand. It was a polite way of saying she needed to use the out house.

 The afternoon was giving way to night and they were the only houses in the neighborhood not connected to the electricity. She lit the oil kitchen lamp and walked out the back door.

Edna watched her walk towards the back door through the bedroom. She watched her walk and the way her hips spread. The width but more importantly the way she walked and her silhouette when she turned to smile.

“There are two in there. Lord God, she can’t feed one let alone two.”

Edna stared at the door waiting for Gladys to return and finish their talking. She looked around, pleased with how sweet she was trying to make her nest with so little.  Pleased and yet worried. Twins.

Gladys returned with an arm full of firewood that she deposited in the wooden barrel by the kitchen stove. She brushed the bark from her stomach and laughed. 

“Well at least I have a good shelf for carryin things.”

Then Gladys noticed the look on Edna’s face and stopped laughing.

“What Edna. What?”

Edna stood and came towards her.  “How many babies do you feel inside? Tell me. What do you feel?”

Gladys flushed red and then feeling weak, sat back down and put her head in her hands, covering her eyes with her palms as if that would help her to see these things more clearly.

She began with a whisper.

“How am I to know, Edna?  There are twins in my family and I keep dreaming of two babies but I don’t know. I was afraid to say anything. Vern’s Dad would be so mad if I had twins. He already calls Vern all kinds of terrible things. He’ll think he did it on purpose to make their life hard. He’s made Vern so scared his whole life he’s afraid to do anything at all. Its like I married a hurt puppy. We just can’t have twins.”

 Gladys had said more than she had intended and bit her lip to make herself stop from saying even more.

“It’s the Lord put them in there, Gladys. No fault of yours or Verns. Just the way it is sometimes. “ Edna began to pack up her sewing to leave.  “I know you don’t much care for Vern’s dad but Mini Mae’s a good woman and you need to go there for dinner if there’s no food here. You understand?  You’ll bleed after if you don’t.”

Gladys followed her to the door and promised to go eat some dinner and keep drinking the herbs Edna prepared.

“Boil some rags and have a clean blanket to lie on.” She offered. “You’ll be fine. Eat and get some sleep Gladys and try to keep that husband of yours home at least till the baby comes. Someone has to be her to call for me and the doctor if we need him.”

“Please don’t call the doctor.” Galdys begged.  “It’ll cost $15 and we can’t afford it. You know that.”

“I know” Edna said looking down.  “I know but we have to call him for twins.  I may need some extra hands and he’ll wait for the money.  He always does.”

After Edna left, Gladys laid down to rest but her sleep was soon interrupted with Vern and Vester busting in the door. Vern had won a radio for her in a poker game and was running a cord from his parent’s house so she could listen.  Oh and he had a plate of food from his mama too. He was smiling from ear to ear; pleased with the gifts he had brought to her.  The clean floor was covered with mud but it was good to see him so happy and the food tasted good. Plenty of people talked bad about Vern but she knew the sweet side too.  Some of the sweetest things in life had a bitter side too.  They tasted better that way.

After they had eaten and the dishes were washed, she watched the restless look come over him.

“Stay with me. Just this once, please don’t leave.,” she whispered. ‘ Edna says it might be twins and I’ll need you to call for the doctor.”

He kissed her check softly.  “Edna’s probably wrong, sugar. Its just one baby. You’ll see and don’t you worry, I’ll be here.”

Gladys held onto this flannel shirt with both hands.  Held on to each pocket and begged him stay.  He pried each hand free and held them kissing her fingers and putting them down.

“I’ll just go out for a little. You have the radio to keep you company now. “ He kissed her again. The smell of her hair so warm and sweet, it almost made him stay. It reminded him of the night they had met at church. She was the girl with black eyes and the smell of magnolia in her hair. She was the best dancer in the county.

 He looked at her now. So fat she could barely move.  He walked out, slamming the door and and not looking back. “He’d built her house hadn’t he.”?

“Why couldn’t anyone ever be thankful for the things he did.”  He muttered under his breath.  “Why did those always want more.”

Gladys washed up the best she could and laid down to sleep. She liked a light on but worried they’d run out of oil.” In the dark she felt the babies settle down too.  She spoke to them and offered a word of welcome. It was a hard world but she would always, always love them and protect them. Always and then she allowed sleep to be her companion.

Contractions can start slow like a sleepy morning in bed. You have to wonder if it’s the baby moving or heartburn or a sore muscle in your back.  They make you wonder if it’s the real thing or if you should finish washing the clothes and make dinner and see.

And then others catch you and lift you up and toss you down. They sweep you off your feet and take what breath is left inside you and leave you speechless.  They enter every cell in your body and never once loose a beat.  These were the contractions that woke Gladys.

She lay there in the dark. The radio had gone off the air for the night.  She held tight to the blanket and let them rush over her.  She began to pray.

“Dear God. Sweet Jesus. Don’t let this happen to me.  Take it way.  Please. I’ll be good. I’ll go home and never drink or dance again.  Anything but please take this away.”

 At 2:00 Vern came home to a weeping and moaning wife. He turned on the light and watched her for a moment. Watched her in disbelief, and then went to get his mother.

“Don’t’ leave me ” She called but he was gone. Terror and shame at being gone grew hard in his stomach and the place between his shoulders.

She did not know how much time had passed   but in the dark she saw her best friend, Faye Haris come in and begin to move about the room.

“Why, Gladys Presley, didn’t you come get someone? You can’t just lie here crying having a baby all by yourself,”

Gladys turned her head to the wall; to the newspaper shoe advertisements and tried to read them to keep calm. She didn’t want any noise or lights or commotion. She wanted to be alone with her babies a little longer.

Faye got the fire going and started the water boiling.  She sat on the bed by her friend.

“I’m having twins,” She held her friends hand and cried.

“Twins,” whispered Faye. “Two babies to love. She squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry just concentrate on the birthing.”

Mini Mae returned with Edna. She lifted the covers. The sheets were covered with water and blood.   “Go get the doctor. Just in case.”

“The money” whispered Gladys.

“Never mind money. I may need some extra hands and his are as good as any.”

She got Gladys up and helped her to the bathroom.  They held her in a squat over the chamber pot and cleaned her up afterwards with warm water from the stove. Moving quickly under Edna’s urgings, they changed the sheets, putting more newspaper on the mattress to protect it.

Gladys was crying now as she moved back towards the bed.  She was calling for God to help her but it was not the call that Edna knew she’d need for baby having.  The move from the bed to the pot had broken her rhythm and Edna knew she would have to help her.

 Edna looked her in the eyes and said to keep her prayers quiet like and inside her like the ending of a hymn when everyones swaying back and forth and holding hands. “That kind of prayer. The under your breath prayer. The sweet thank the Lord for everything prayer. Nows not the time for the begging prayers.”

Galdys began to sway and whisper her thanks to Jesus. In between she slept against Fayes shoulder.  Vern and his brother and his Daddy sat on the porch, rolling tobacco, warmed by the tiny fires they made to keep them going. Cold as it was, Edna wouldn’t let them in the kitchen. Said the house was too small. Besides they both still smelled like whiskey and Edna would have none of that in her birthing room.

  The room became quiet and Gladys slept soundly in between the waves that both woke her and reminded her of why all these women were in her house in the early hours of the morning. She looked at them but did not see.  The wood stove had made the room warm and the sleeps in between had become deep and sweet. She heard the words of encouragement from a place both far away and yet deeply within her.

When the baby began its decent, Gladys was once again taken by surprise. The pressure mounting within her without warning or hesitation. Nothing in her able to stop it, even if she had wanted to.  Her great noise, opening her up to allow the second noise of a baby’s first cry. Small but sturdy with dark hair and a hunger for life.

Dr Hunt came in the room with the cry and stood by the door of the crowded but happy room.

“Guess you won’t need me, “ he laughed and turned to go.

Edna looked up and said, “its twins. Dr Hunt. Best stay.

The women wrapped the baby in blankets.  Someone gave her some sweet tea.

Edna got out a toilet paper roll to listen for a second baby but Dr Hunt took out his new “baby listening fetoscope “ They both could hear another in there. They smiled at one another over Gladys still round middle.

Soon the contractions started again and with a gush of blood a second boy was born. Just as fast. The hair just as black and full but this time was no cry. He was followed seconds later by a large afterbirth. One placenta for the both of them.

“Watch for bleeding after twins.” Doctor Hunt whisperer o Edna. “I’ll work on the baby.”

Edna watched Gladys for bleeding. The womb would struggle to clamp down after two but really she was listening for the second cry. She had heard a heartbeat. Could he have died in such a short time? Did Gladys know something was wrong? The first baby was in her arms and her eyes were closed.

Elvis Araon and Jessee Garron she said, opening her eyes. Elvis Aaron and Jesse Garran.  “ Give me my Jessie now so he can meet his brother.” She whispered.

Doctor Hunt took Jessie in to the kitchen and asked Faye for a blanket to wrap him in. He was stillborn. There was no life in him. Not anymore. His days on earth had been all inside his Mama.

They were both big enough. Some twins were premature but he was big enough. The placenta thought the work was done. Even hundreds of births, it was hard to see a baby without a cry, without a mouth searching for a breast.

It was almost dawn and he had patients to see. Edna could see to the rest. He’d fill out the birth certificates when he could.  He was called the “poor man’s doctor” and with the depression there was no lack of patients unable to even pay his $2 fee. He sighed and went to the porch where Vern was sitting with Vestel and his father.

“You have a healthy son.”

“Sons you mean,” asked Vern.

“One son. I’m sorry Vern. The second baby didn’t make it.” He patted the young man’s arm and walked down the wooden steps and into the road.

Vern stumbled into the small house; exhausted and hung over. His wife was sitting up in the old iron bed holding two babies and weeping. He stood beside her and saw one with his eyes dark and searching. The other still. Vern wondered if they were wrong and if the one wasn’t just sleeping but when he touched his hand it was already cold and he pulled back.

“You’ll have to live this life for both of you, Elvis.” Gladys whispered.

Edna brought in a shoebox for Jessee and they quietly placed him on the mantle.

“Tomorrow’s soon enough for burying. He can spend this day with Elvis and the family.”

She instructed Vern to bury the placenta in the back yard and to bury them deep so the dogs and raccoons wouldn’t get them.

 Vern turned on the radio and neighbors came by with food and kind words. In time Edna sent everyone home so Gladys and Vern and Elvis could rest. She would need some sleep too. She never knew when another long night would come her way.

It was hard to rejoice for one and mourn the other. Elvis would miss his brother all his life. She felt sure of that. The day had turned warm and the buds of the tupelo were beginning to swell. She could hear his Mama singing to them both as the sun rose over the red dirt of Mississippi. She’d help with the burying tomorrow but now, now was the time for them all to sleep.

Sleep, a place that called to them through their miseries and joys; carrying them into a gentler place where their worries and regrets were tended to in dreams.

Vern was sitting on the porch weeping when she walked outside.  She put her hand on his back.

“Go inside Vern. They all need you.”

“My baby boy died,” he cried. “He’s dead.”

“Its t The Birth of Elvis and Aaron Presley

Tupelo, Mississippi

January

Gladys Presley concentrated, trying to maintain her balance as she stood, one foot on each kitchen chair, trying to wallpaper the highest parts of the bedroom wall. The cold, January air crept into her house from between the wallboards and she was determined to stop it, before the day was over. Each morning, she walked to downtown Tupelo and begged yesterday’s newspaper from the barbers. If they suspected the truth as to why she wanted the papers they never said.  It was the depression and people did the best they could to get by.

Once home, she carefully looked through the paper; reading the things that caught her attention and picking out the best pictures for her walls. She learned how to combine the words with pictures with an eye of an artist.

The picture ads for women’s clothes would go on her bedroom walls. Pretty shoes and coats and dresses; the things she once dreamed she would  have before she was married and life seemed an open book. The news and local photos were for the wall behind the stove and the food ads for the kitchen and that was all the walls there were. There were only these two rooms. The outhouse and pump were out back.  Maybe one day she would paper the outhouse too. She knew a woman who used the seed catalogs and it was real nice.

Wallpaper paste from flour and water was easy to make and worked well if you were patient in getting out the lumps and stirring it till it was smooth. Some people just didn’t take the time to do it well and the edges cracked and peeled back.

The cup was small so she had to get up and down often to mix a new batch.  She stopped to rub her back.  Her feet were so swollen they barely fit in her one pair of shoes. She had taken to wearing her husband’s old boots to the outhouse and to get water.

With a sigh of acceptance born from determination, Gladys poured water from a white metal pitcher into the small, rose covered teacup and stirred in the flour. She knew she should have been using what little flour they had left for biscuits and gravy and not for wallpaper. 

Her friends at the shirt factory used to debate what was worst; being hungry or being cold. She now knew that lonely was worst than hunger or cold.  Missing her friends at the garment factory; the arguments, the teasing, the singing; this was a cold no matter of wallpaper could keep out. She even missed her seven brothers and sisters; the ones she had been so anxious to leave when she ran off and married.

Gladys chipped some ice to suck on from the wooden icebox.   It eased the churning in her stomach and the sour taste in her mouth. The check from the factory had been her grocery money and now even that was gone.  She knew when the boss had called her into the office, he was sending her home.  He had let her stay as long as he could and she was grateful for that.

January 6, 1935. She pasted the headlines and front page of the paper in the kitchen so she’d have something to read while she washed dishes. There really weren’t too many dishes. It was just her and Vern and most nights Vern didn’t come home for dinner anyway. Shame spread within her as she reflected on her running away with Vern. He had been so eager, so excited to marry her but now that she was pregnant he was hardly home. Out looking for work, he said, but she knew better by the smell of liquor and women on his breath when he climbed into bed beside her.

 A neighbors dog barked, interrupting the quiet and bringing the outside world back in.  She stopped, listening for the signs of who might be coming. Her mother in law hollered a familiar “ yahoo, anyone home?” and then just came straight in without knocking.

Gladys smiled.  It was Edna, coming up the porch steps singing. It was her way of letting you know she was coming. She sang all the way up the road and up the steps and into the front door. She said she didn’t want to surprise nobody. If she sang the gospels, everyone knew a baby was on its way. If she sang a love song, it was just for a visit. This way everyone in their neighborhood knew everyone’s business about birthing. The way Edna put it was that a baby was special for everyone in the community and so the good news needed to be shared so everyone could stop what they were doing an offer up a prayer. Edna said she was called to be a midwife by the Good Lord and for that reason she always had a lot to sing and be happy for.

Gladys was grateful for the company but knew Edna better not catch her up on the chair. Quickly she got down, hid the cup and papers under the bed and wiped her hands quickly on a towel.

“Hey Edna. Come on in. I’m jest lyin here, resting like you told me.”

Edna inspected the newly papered walls, still wet and warm from the paste and shook her head with tender disapproval.

“Come sit. Sit and let me look at those ankles.”  Edna said with a firm yet gentle look. 

 Gladys reluctantly sat and let Edna take her left foot into her strong hands.  She began to rub them and talk about the little things of life.  She sang too and Gladys let the warmth of the steam and Edna’s voice calm her.  Then her right foot. Normally she used oil but with the depression there was no oil for pregnant women’s feet.

Edna always brought a bag of herbs for tea. It was her way to grow things and to walk in the forest looking for plants for the women of Tupelo.  She learned from the people who lived out by the river; the Indians and Cajuns.  There were a few that had escaped the long forced walks to the reservations;  the ones whose blood she suspected ran through hers though no one ever talked about it except in whispers she wasn’t supposed to hear.

Every month the tea was a little different depending on what Edna thought she might be needing. Gladys looked forward to her visits and when she had some honey, the bitter tea became sweet with summer floating warm within her.

 While the tea was seeping in hot water, Edna pulled down on Gladys’s lower eyelids. 

“Its white in there. “ She stared into Gladys’s eyes and looked around the room for any signs of food. “Gladys Love Smith Presley, what have you been eating?” She called her by her full name which was her way of showing she was serious.

Gladys hung her head and hoped she wouldn’t notice the ice shavings from the icebox. Edna had already warned her about that.

“Cook your greens in a cast iron pan. That’ll help.” Edna offered. “ The young nettles and lambs quarters can be gathered down by the creek.  There free for the picking.”

The midwife poured the hot water into the cup catching the leaves in cheesecloth so they could be used again later.

“When’s Vern coming home?” she asked without looking up. “Heard he was working at the EPA with his brother?  He bringing home food or spending it all at the pool hall?”

 She had known Vern since he was a boy; knew Vern and many a man like him.  Eyes that took you in and then turned the other way from a shame they could not shake.

Gladys wanted her midwife to know that he wasn’t that bad. Not as bad as her Daddy with his moonshine and slapping and her Mama in bed with the TB and all the brothers trying to get in her bed at night. The sisters all sleeping together to fend them off.  She wanted Edna to know the good things too. 

The baby moved hard up against her ribs and she rubbed him back down into place.

“I should have finished school.”  Gladys whispered.  “We were just two kids who ran off and got married when we should have been in school. He was just so cute and I couldn’t stand to be home anymore. “

“How old are you two? “ Edna sat back down and started sewing some pads for after the birth.

He was seventeen and I was twenty-one. We lied so the judge would marry us. Lied and had to borrow the $3 for the license. We’d been up all night skating and dancing and well, I guess the lights and the booze made us crazy.  I promised God I wouldn’t be with a man without being married so he said we’d get married and we did.”

Gladys picked up the sewing and helped Edna.  They were folded up newspaper covered with clean cloth. ‘You’ll need about forty of them” Edna instructed her.

“Well at least you have a home to your self. Its more than most “

Gladys looked around her two-room house.  Yes it was better than most and soon she would have the baby to play with and love. She’d have her own family.

Gladys began slowly. “We borrowed the $180 to build this from Orville Bean. You know Orville. He owns all this land for his hogs and cattle and the land where Ma and Pa Presley live next door. Vern and his dad and Vester built it.  It’s not much but it’s a place to lie down and have my baby in. It’s a start.”

Edna smiled at Gladys and nodded. It was a start.

“Excuse me. I have to go out back.”   Gladys said as she made an effort to stand. It was a polite way of saying she needed to use the out house.

 The afternoon was giving way to night and they were the only houses in the neighborhood not connected to the electricity. She lit the oil kitchen lamp and walked out the back door.

Edna watched her walk towards the back door through the bedroom. She watched her walk and the way her hips spread. The width but more importantly the way she walked and her silhouette when she turned to smile.

“There are two in there. Lord God, she can’t feed one let alone two.”

Edna stared at the door waiting for Gladys to return and finish their talking. She looked around, pleased with how sweet she was trying to make her nest with so little.  Pleased and yet worried. Twins.

Gladys returned with an arm full of firewood that she deposited in the wooden barrel by the kitchen stove. She brushed the bark from her stomach and laughed. 

“Well at least I have a good shelf for carryin things.”

Then Gladys noticed the look on Edna’s face and stopped laughing.

“What Edna. What?”

Edna stood and came towards her.  “How many babies do you feel inside? Tell me. What do you feel?”

Gladys flushed red and then feeling weak, sat back down and put her head in her hands, covering her eyes with her palms as if that would help her to see these things more clearly.

She began with a whisper.

“How am I to know, Edna?  There are twins in my family and I keep dreaming of two babies but I don’t know. I was afraid to say anything. Vern’s Dad would be so mad if I had twins. He already calls Vern all kinds of terrible things. He’ll think he did it on purpose to make their life hard. He’s made Vern so scared his whole life he’s afraid to do anything at all. Its like I married a hurt puppy. We just can’t have twins.”

 Gladys had said more than she had intended and bit her lip to make herself stop from saying even more.

“It’s the Lord put them in there, Gladys. No fault of yours or Verns. Just the way it is sometimes. “ Edna began to pack up her sewing to leave.  “I know you don’t much care for Vern’s dad but Mini Mae’s a good woman and you need to go there for dinner if there’s no food here. You understand?  You’ll bleed after if you don’t.”

Gladys followed her to the door and promised to go eat some dinner and keep drinking the herbs Edna prepared.

“Boil some rags and have a clean blanket to lie on.” She offered. “You’ll be fine. Eat and get some sleep Gladys and try to keep that husband of yours home at least till the baby comes. Someone has to be her to call for me and the doctor if we need him.”

“Please don’t call the doctor.” Galdys begged.  “It’ll cost $15 and we can’t afford it. You know that.”

“I know” Edna said looking down.  “I know but we have to call him for twins.  I may need some extra hands and he’ll wait for the money.  He always does.”

After Edna left, Gladys laid down to rest but her sleep was soon interrupted with Vern and Vester busting in the door. Vern had won a radio for her in a poker game and was running a cord from his parent’s house so she could listen.  Oh and he had a plate of food from his mama too. He was smiling from ear to ear; pleased with the gifts he had brought to her.  The clean floor was covered with mud but it was good to see him so happy and the food tasted good. Plenty of people talked bad about Vern but she knew the sweet side too.  Some of the sweetest things in life had a bitter side too.  They tasted better that way.

After they had eaten and the dishes were washed, she watched the restless look come over him.

“Stay with me. Just this once, please don’t leave.,” she whispered. ‘ Edna says it might be twins and I’ll need you to call for the doctor.”

He kissed her check softly.  “Edna’s probably wrong, sugar. Its just one baby. You’ll see and don’t you worry, I’ll be here.”

Gladys held onto this flannel shirt with both hands.  Held on to each pocket and begged him stay.  He pried each hand free and held them kissing her fingers and putting them down.

“I’ll just go out for a little. You have the radio to keep you company now. “ He kissed her again. The smell of her hair so warm and sweet, it almost made him stay. It reminded him of the night they had met at church. She was the girl with black eyes and the smell of magnolia in her hair. She was the best dancer in the county.

 He looked at her now. So fat she could barely move.  He walked out, slamming the door and and not looking back. “He’d built her house hadn’t he.”?

“Why couldn’t anyone ever be thankful for the things he did.”  He muttered under his breath.  “Why did those always want more.”

Gladys washed up the best she could and laid down to sleep. She liked a light on but worried they’d run out of oil.” In the dark she felt the babies settle down too.  She spoke to them and offered a word of welcome. It was a hard world but she would always, always love them and protect them. Always and then she allowed sleep to be her companion.

Contractions can start slow like a sleepy morning in bed. You have to wonder if it’s the baby moving or heartburn or a sore muscle in your back.  They make you wonder if it’s the real thing or if you should finish washing the clothes and make dinner and see.

And then others catch you and lift you up and toss you down. They sweep you off your feet and take what breath is left inside you and leave you speechless.  They enter every cell in your body and never once loose a beat.  These were the contractions that woke Gladys.

She lay there in the dark. The radio had gone off the air for the night.  She held tight to the blanket and let them rush over her.  She began to pray.

“Dear God. Sweet Jesus. Don’t let this happen to me.  Take it way.  Please. I’ll be good. I’ll go home and never drink or dance again.  Anything but please take this away.”

 At 2:00 Vern came home to a weeping and moaning wife. He turned on the light and watched her for a moment. Watched her in disbelief, and then went to get his mother.

“Don’t’ leave me ” She called but he was gone. Terror and shame at being gone grew hard in his stomach and the place between his shoulders.

She did not know how much time had passed   but in the dark she saw her best friend, Faye Haris come in and begin to move about the room.

“Why, Gladys Presley, didn’t you come get someone? You can’t just lie here crying having a baby all by yourself,”

Gladys turned her head to the wall; to the newspaper shoe advertisements and tried to read them to keep calm. She didn’t want any noise or lights or commotion. She wanted to be alone with her babies a little longer.

Faye got the fire going and started the water boiling.  She sat on the bed by her friend.

“I’m having twins,” She held her friends hand and cried.

“Twins,” whispered Faye. “Two babies to love. She squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry just concentrate on the birthing.”

Mini Mae returned with Edna. She lifted the covers. The sheets were covered with water and blood.   “Go get the doctor. Just in case.”

“The money” whispered Gladys.

“Never mind money. I may need some extra hands and his are as good as any.”

She got Gladys up and helped her to the bathroom.  They held her in a squat over the chamber pot and cleaned her up afterwards with warm water from the stove. Moving quickly under Edna’s urgings, they changed the sheets, putting more newspaper on the mattress to protect it.

Gladys was crying now as she moved back towards the bed.  She was calling for God to help her but it was not the call that Edna knew she’d need for baby having.  The move from the bed to the pot had broken her rhythm and Edna knew she would have to help her.

 Edna looked her in the eyes and said to keep her prayers quiet like and inside her like the ending of a hymn when everyones swaying back and forth and holding hands. “That kind of prayer. The under your breath prayer. The sweet thank the Lord for everything prayer. Nows not the time for the begging prayers.”

Galdys began to sway and whisper her thanks to Jesus. In between she slept against Fayes shoulder.  Vern and his brother and his Daddy sat on the porch, rolling tobacco, warmed by the tiny fires they made to keep them going. Cold as it was, Edna wouldn’t let them in the kitchen. Said the house was too small. Besides they both still smelled like whiskey and Edna would have none of that in her birthing room.

  The room became quiet and Gladys slept soundly in between the waves that both woke her and reminded her of why all these women were in her house in the early hours of the morning. She looked at them but did not see.  The wood stove had made the room warm and the sleeps in between had become deep and sweet. She heard the words of encouragement from a place both far away and yet deeply within her.

When the baby began its decent, Gladys was once again taken by surprise. The pressure mounting within her without warning or hesitation. Nothing in her able to stop it, even if she had wanted to.  Her great noise, opening her up to allow the second noise of a baby’s first cry. Small but sturdy with dark hair and a hunger for life.

Dr Hunt came in the room with the cry and stood by the door of the crowded but happy room.

“Guess you won’t need me, “ he laughed and turned to go.

Edna looked up and said, “its twins. Dr Hunt. Best stay.

The women wrapped the baby in blankets.  Someone gave her some sweet tea.

Edna got out a toilet paper roll to listen for a second baby but Dr Hunt took out his new “baby listening fetoscope “ They both could hear another in there. They smiled at one another over Gladys still round middle.

Soon the contractions started again and with a gush of blood a second boy was born. Just as fast. The hair just as black and full but this time was no cry. He was followed seconds later by a large afterbirth. One placenta for the both of them.

“Watch for bleeding after twins.” Doctor Hunt whisperer o Edna. “I’ll work on the baby.”

Edna watched Gladys for bleeding. The womb would struggle to clamp down after two but really she was listening for the second cry. She had heard a heartbeat. Could he have died in such a short time? Did Gladys know something was wrong? The first baby was in her arms and her eyes were closed.

Elvis Araon and Jessee Garron she said, opening her eyes. Elvis Aaron and Jesse Garran.  “ Give me my Jessie now so he can meet his brother.” She whispered.

Doctor Hunt took Jessie in to the kitchen and asked Faye for a blanket to wrap him in. He was stillborn. There was no life in him. Not anymore. His days on earth had been all inside his Mama.

They were both big enough. Some twins were premature but he was big enough. The placenta thought the work was done. Even hundreds of births, it was hard to see a baby without a cry, without a mouth searching for a breast.

It was almost dawn and he had patients to see. Edna could see to the rest. He’d fill out the birth certificates when he could.  He was called the “poor man’s doctor” and with the depression there was no lack of patients unable to even pay his $2 fee. He sighed and went to the porch where Vern was sitting with Vestel and his father.

“You have a healthy son.”

“Sons you mean,” asked Vern.

“One son. I’m sorry Vern. The second baby didn’t make it.” He patted the young man’s arm and walked down the wooden steps and into the road.

Vern stumbled into the small house; exhausted and hung over. His wife was sitting up in the old iron bed holding two babies and weeping. He stood beside her and saw one with his eyes dark and searching. The other still. Vern wondered if they were wrong and if the one wasn’t just sleeping but when he touched his hand it was already cold and he pulled back.

“You’ll have to live this life for both of you, Elvis.” Gladys whispered.

Edna brought in a shoebox for Jessee and they quietly placed him on the mantle.

“Tomorrow’s soon enough for burying. He can spend this day with Elvis and the family.”

She instructed Vern to bury the placenta in the back yard and to bury them deep so the dogs and raccoons wouldn’t get them.

 Vern turned on the radio and neighbors came by with food and kind words. In time Edna sent everyone home so Gladys and Vern and Elvis could rest. She would need some sleep too. She never knew when another long night would come her way.

It was hard to rejoice for one and mourn the other. Elvis would miss his brother all his life. She felt sure of that. The day had turned warm and the buds of the tupelo were beginning to swell. She could hear his Mama singing to them both as the sun rose over the red dirt of Mississippi. She’d help with the burying tomorrow but now, now was the time for them all to sleep.

Sleep, a place that called to them through their miseries and joys; carrying them into a gentler place where their worries and regrets were tended to in dreams.

Vern was sitting on the porch weeping when she walked outside.  She put her hand on his back.

“Go inside Vern. They all need you.”

“My baby boy died,” he cried. “He’s dead.”

“Its true but Elvis is alive and he needs his papa.”  She walked down the stairs and then turned back.

“You know it hard to be the twin who lived. Hard to live thinking maybe its your fault and missing the one who died.  Wondering how it could have been.  It can eat a man up.”

Vern nodded.

“Don’t ever let Elvis feel responsible.  Hear me.  Let him live his own life free of his brother. He’s a perfect baby.”

Vern went inside and took Jesse down and held him while Elvis and Gladys slept.  And then more gently then anything he’d done in his life, he tucked him back into the box and wrapped the blanket warm around him. 

Gladys watched him from the bed aware that her life would always be like this night; this irrevocable mixture of sorrow and joy, this place where life was raw and incapable of healing.

Vern lay down on the floor beside them and looked up at the ceiling. Safe in his mother’s arms, Elvis looked towards the light coming through the window.

Outside the birds began the song of a dawn in Mississippi. 

One summer I drove a rented care from Atlanta to Mississippi and visited birth homes along the way. I had long been curious about the birth of Elvis and his twin brother.   The reports said that Elvis was born second but it just didn't make any sense for a second twin to survive and not the first.  When I went to Tupelo, everyone said indeed Elvis was born first.  The historical society records indicated that the birth certificate was registered long after the birth and was filled out wrong.  Elvis was quoted as saying he always thought he was born first.  The house in Tupelo is preserved by Elvis fans and is a picture perfect little house wiht flowered wallpaper and antiques but of course, even they say, it was not like that for Elvis.  I stood in that little house and thought of Gladys and her midwife and those two babies.   I had been to Graceland but it was there in Tupelo, I could feel the song that was born in his heart.  

Once when I was at Graceland, I asked where his boyhood house in Memphis was and they said, "Why he lived in the projects."  

I asked if I could go there and they said, "Why its the projects. No one wants to go there."  

I say but that's where he lived; in the projects.  There may be Graceland but there is also the little house in Tupelo where Elvis was born and somewhere a family lives in his house; in the projects.