Mary Ellen honked her car horn again and tried to swerve around the shiny silver Airstream.
The trailer crept along on the center line, blocking both lanes of the interstate. Swearing, Mary Ellen swung back into the lane and resigned herself to being late.
Her resolve lasted only a few miles. “Get the hell out of the way.” She gripped the steering wheel tighter and pulled up as close to the back of the camper as she dared. She honked again.
The face of an old man with jet black hair appeared in the window. He flipped her off and disappeared.
Mary Ellen let up on the gas and eased away from the back of the Airstream. Something about the man seemed so familiar. Did she know him?
She followed the trailer, a long line of cars behind them full of swearing drivers. Ignoring the honking in back of her, she pulled closer again, hoping for another glimpse of the old man.
Fifteen minutes later, he appeared again. This time eating a sandwich. He sneered at her through a mouthful of bread and let the curtain drop back in place.
Suddenly she knew why he looked so familiar. “He looks like Elvis Presley,” she muttered.
She honked her car horn again, trying to tempt him back, but the old man stayed hidden inside the Airstream.
As they passed a sign for a rest area, the trailer’s turn signal blinked. They were stopping.
Without thinking, Mary Ellen followed them off the interstate. The line of cars flew past them as they exited, drivers yelling at the trailer through open windows as the sped away.
The Airstream was being pulled by a pink Cadillac convertible, the top down. The car had been hidden from Mary Ellen’s view by the silver bullet it was towing until it pulled into a parking space, but she wasn’t surprised when she saw it.
She parked a couple of spaces away and waited for the driver and the old man to get out.
The Cadillac’s door opened. A stunning brunette climbed out and stretched.
The woman opened the door of the Airstream and stuck her head inside. A few minutes later she shut the door and headed towards the restrooms.
Mary Ellen grabbed her purse from the back seat of her Prius and followed the driver.
The girl, she couldn’t have been more than 19 or 20, stood at the mirror brushing her bangs across her forehead with her fingers. Mary Ellen smiled at her. “Cars are murder on the hair, aren’t they?” She took a brush out of her purse and pulled it through her ponytail.
The girl grinned back. “That old car I’m driving doesn’t have air conditioning. It’s either drive with the top down or die of the heat.”
Mary Ellen turned to the girl. “Are you driving that old Cadillac? That’s quite a car.”
“It’s my boyfriend’s. I keep telling him he should buy a new one, a hybrid or something, but he loves that old pink thing.”
“I’m Mary Ellen.” She held out her hand.
“Annie.” The girl shook her hand.
“Is your boyfriend traveling with you?”
Annie laughed. “Well, sort of. He’s in the camper. Says the car is too claustrophobic. Besides, he’s a musician so he sits back there and writes music or plays his guitar or whatever while I drive.”
Mary Ellen turned her gaze back to the mirror, trying to act casual. “Where are you heading?”
“Memphis. My boyfriend has a place down there.” Annie washed her hands. “It was nice meeting you,” she called over the hand dryer.
“Wait!” Mary Ellen ran to catch up to Annie. “I have to ask. Is your boyfriend Elvis?”
Annie looked confused. “Elvis?”
“You know, Elvis Presley. I know it sounds kind of silly, since Elvis is dead, but I thought I saw someone in the back window and he looked, well, like Elvis.” Mary Ellen trailed off, sounding crazy even to her own ears.
Annie leaned close to her and grabbed her arm. “You can’t tell anyone, ok? He doesn’t want people to know he’s still alive.” When Mary Ellen didn’t answer, Annie dug her fingers into her arm tighter. “Promise you won’t tell!”
She nodded. “No, I won’t say anything. I promise.”
Annie let go of her arm and hurried back to her car.
As the Cadillac flew out of the parking lot, the Airstream careening behind, she could hear Annie laughing wildly.
A young man appeared in the back window. His ran hand through his jet black hair, and flipped her off with a sneer.