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thatbanditqueen · 8 months

Text

Smash!

An Elvis Presley fan fic one-shot

Summary: Eadie is walking up the canyon to her uncle's house when a beautiful stranger almost runs her over, out on a car ride to clear his mind. Inspired by a memo from the amazing Hal Wallis before Easy Come, Easy Go, complaining that fans and movie theater owners think Elvis looks bad, his hair is too fluffy and black, and he "doesn't look like a Navy frogman...."

A response to the writing prompt to write a scenario involving Elvis and a car/

WC: 2.7 K

Warnings: None, a non-deadly car crash, and probably typos. I tend to leave these writing prompts to work on during the day Sunday, and I am not sure this one turned out very well... but oh well I said I was posting it.

Tagging my compatriots @vintageshanny @be-my-ally @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime

Friday, September 9, 1966

Countyline Beach, the very edge of Malibu

It was getting harder to read in the evening light, and Eadie decided to give up, placing Valley of the Dolls down on her blanket. Setting back, she lingered on the beach, watching the orange and pink hues follow the sun and dance across the water in a rainbow of reflections just for her. It was lonely back at the empty house, but also a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of Jakarta, which had been home for the last three years. Los Angeles was its own foreign terrain, a fact she had discovered after stepping off the plane last week, and she had yet to learn the rhythms and practices of its natives.

Looking out at the water, she stood, and wiped the sand off the bottom of her thighs, readying herself to walk back across the highway to canyon where her uncle lived. Eadie covered her eyes and looked over at Neptune’s Net, the run down, biker bar on the other side of the highway, and considered going for a beer and maybe some human contact. But she still didn’t yet feel confident using US money, and the line of Harley Davidsons out front gave her pause.

So, instead, Eadie slipped her sandals back on, threw everything in her bag, and walked leisurely across the empty two lane highway that stretched between the burnt, brown foothill of the Santa Monica mountains to the beach. Looking over her shoulder as she started up the hill, she mused at how lucky she was to be here in the first place, housesitting on the beach in America, and made a mental note to ask how she could help out more when Uncle Ian returned from New York. She wanted to be the kind of useful, grateful, houseguest he would invite to stay as long as she liked.

The sun was almost completely gone as she trekked up the hill, and Eadie startled when, lost in her own thoughts, she saw a large, chocolate poodle running down along the other side of the road. She walked to the middle of the lane, slapping her thighs and whistling, then slowly taking another step. Her stomach was a ball of nerves thinking of the highway 30 yards down the canyon, and what could happen to the dog if she didn’t catch it.

“Come here, boy, come here.” Eadie whispered in a slow, friendly voice.

The dog paused and quirked its ears up at her, and the recognition in its big brown eyes made her smile.

“That’s a goooood boy.”

Confident she was gaining its trust, Eadie slowly stepped towards the animal, and was just about to take another when the sudden loud roar of a car engine bounding down the canyon startled the dog into the brush. Eadie jumped back and fell down in the wake of the black convertible that swerved into the big rock on the other side of the road.

Eadie opened her eyes. The sounds of metal crashing and tires squeaking, followed by a stream of steady expletives, filled her ears. The swearing got closer as she heard a rush of footsteps that brought a tall, dark-haired man into view above her. She rubbed her eyes again, trying to focus. His blue eyes were terrified, and his face was pale, drained of blood, as he leaned down to prop her up from the dirt.

“Hey, hey hey hey hey, now, baby. You’re ok, you’re ok.”

Eadie put her arms around him, instinctively, before looking over at the crunched, smoking engine. Still in shock, she slapped his chest several times before realizing her palm was skinned and she was smudging blood all over his blue shirt.

“What the devil! Do you have any idea how reckless you are? You bloody fool, you could have died, or killed someone, driving down the canyon like that.”

The man shook his head, wiping her hair out of her face.

“And I s’pose where you come from, standing in the middle of the street is considered safe, huh?"

Then she remembered why she had been in the middle of the road.

“Wait, wait, I was in the- it - was - there was - oh no, there was a dog, there was a dog, put me down, we have to go save it.”

Eadie tried to stand, but stumbled, leaning on the man as she tried to walk another step, turning and looking around for the poodle. She almost went down completely on her next step, and so she didn’t protest when he scooped her up into his arms, but she continued to look around anxiously. Her stomach was tight again as she imagined the dog running out into one of the roads nearby.

“He was just here, please, I cannot bear to think of him running around loose, he’ll get run over, please. go see if you can catch him.”

The man shifted, his arms fixed around Eadie as he swung around in a circle, unable to ignore the intense urgency in her voice.

“Honey, there ain’t no dog here, wouldn't know which way to go.”

“Please, you’ve got to go look for him, I’ll never forgive myself, just set me down on your boot. There. He went off that way.”

The man looked deep into her eyes as he set her down on the trunk of his car, and walked over to grab her missing sandal and her other things laying in the middle of the road. He knelt down, wiped off her foot and slid her shoe on, in an almost maternal manner, then rubbed her calf before he standing all the way back up. He stared at her expectantly, as if he was waiting for her to say something. So she did, gesturing toward the brush

"Please."

“Listen, I can’t go chasing after some dog, lil girl, but I bet you dollars to donuts he's gone on home. Dogs are smarter than we give 'em credit. But I can't go a wild goose chase, baby, I gotta figure out what I’m gonna do about this goddamn mess.” He kicked the front wheel of his car.

Eadie frowned, a wave of guilt washed over her. The dog, his car, the evening had turned into a fiasco in the blink of an eye. She bobbed her head in agreement, the guy was right, and she felt even worse noticing the smoke that was still coming out of his smashed hood.

“Oh, and your car. Think it will run?

“Oh sure, it'll run, alright. Run right into the junk yard. Ya not a mechanic, are you? The engine's gone, but also once a car gets all smashed up, it ain't never drive right again. Needs to be put out to pasture. Gonesville."

She watched as he looked past her, out the ocean, and his eyes got a sort of far away look, as if he were no longer talking about the car, but something deeper. His voice was so melancholy, Eadie's face crumpled in sympathy and a whimper escaped her throat. She wiped her eyes.

"Ugh, I think I'm in shock, still. But I'm sorry about your car, I really am. I feel so horrible."

The guy forced a half smile. "Aw, don't cry ,baby, I hardly had a chance to get attached.”

As if on cue, one of the gaskets popped and another furl of smoke went up from the engine.

“Oh it was new, that's even worse. And such a lovely car, though the steering wheel still seems like it’s on the wrong side, to me.”

“English?”

“Mhmmm, I’m Ian’s niece, I just got into town. You one of his neighbors?”

The man put his hands at his waist, or rather right below, and tapped his fingers over the top of his thighs as he leaned forward. He paused, lip hanging open, as he looked up from under his eyebrows at the road he had just come down and the handful of houses jutting out from the hills.

“Am I one of Ian’s neighbors?” He repeated back, the hint of an indignant smile curled at the side of his mouth. As if she had asked the set up to a joke.

“I haven’t met all of you, just Sarah and Mack, across from him. I’m Ian’s, niece, Eadie.”

She stuck out her hand, waiting as he hesitated, shifting and clicking his tongue before he shook it.

“Huh. Yeah, I think you might still be in shock honey, maybe you hit your head. How many fingers am I holding up?”

He passed his forefinger in front of her eyes, watching as she tracked it.

“Two. Look, I , I - I think I’m ok to walk back to the house. How far up are you?”

The man shifted, mumbling something to himself under his breath that she couldn't make out. “Well, that sonofabitch mus really be right, people ain’t even recognizing me.”

He met her questioning eyes, and spoke up.

“Ugh, nah, I don’t live up there, jus took a turn off Mulholland to go for a drive along the coast, blow off some steam. It’s been a rough week, boy, been a rough week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, what line of work are you in?”

Eadie pushed off the car as she spoke, testing her balance and pulling her sun dress down over her scraped knees. She was just beginning to really feel the sore twinge running through her back from the fall. Looking over at him, it struck her that the stranger was standing in a way that almost suggested he was posing for her, and it made her giggle inwardly. He coughed again, running his hand through the tuft of black hair hanging over his forehead.

“I - I’m an actor.”

Eadie patted his shoulder, apologetically.

“Ah, right, well, that it explains your rough week, doesn’t it. I imagine it can be very hard going out here for you.” She looked up the hill, then back at his car. “Listen I’m not really in the habit of inviting strange men over. But, I, well, I feel somewhat responsible for your car. Is there someone you can call for help? Maybe a garage you can hire to come tow your car?”

“Huh, yeah, I reckon I know a guy or two I can get to come help me.”

“Promise you’re not an insane killer. Or rapist. Or burglar?”

The man grinned, looking down. “Whoo boy, no, no, no ma’am. You know women have asked me a lot of weird questions over my lifetime, but that one takes the cake. How do I know you ain’t the one trying to get me alone, so you can pounce on me, huh?” He winked at Eadie, grabbing his black satin sports coat from the back seat before setting out to follow her cautious gait.

“Is that something American women do? Go about attacking men?”

“Uh, well, lil girl, you’d be surprised. ”

**********************************

Eadie had her misgivings as she led him into her uncle’s house, but there was something about his eyes, and the quiet way he mumbled inaudibly into his shoes that made her trust him. She changed into a nice pair of grey linen capri pans and a silk blouse, fixed her blonde hair neatly back with a headband, then looked around her uncle’s closet for some clean clothes for her guest.

Coming back downstairs, she stood for a moment at the landing, watching his tall, lanky silhouette shift back and forth in front of the large, open windows overlooking the Pacific Ocean. He held the phone cord in his hand, twisting it, before he turned, at the sound of her footsteps, and grinned, still speaking into the mouth piece.

“Yeah, I know it’s a new one. Nothing doin’. Better get someone to come tow it, and then you come and pick me up too, huh? I’m on - where are we, honey?”

Eadie put the clothes down on the bar in front of him.

“Decker Canyon, just above the Pacific Coast Highway.”

“Got that Joe? We’re 'bout a mile off the PCH, street is Decker Canyon, right below Mulholland Drive. S' a ways out - anything round here?”

She gave him the only landmarks she new, the bar and a gas station a few miles before it, then bounced over to see what she had in the fridge. At the click of the phone, she turned back to her guest.

“Hungry? I can make us some omelets? Or bacon and egg sandwiches?”

“Sho, whatever’s clever, baby.”

Her eyes shifted over his body, noting the dirt all over the knees of his tight, white pants, and motioned to the clothes.

“I think you might be more trim than my uncle, and more stylish. But I brought you some clean clothes, if you want them. Your belt will probably do the trick.”

“Trim, huh?”

Eadie paused as she cracked some eggs, frowning at the wounded look on his face.

“Look, you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome, I’m sure you know it or you wouldn’t be out here in Hollywood, trying to break in to your field. Right?”

He shook his head, and laughed as he strode over to her. Suddenly Eadie’s knees felt weak and it wasn’t from the crash. She dropped the egg shells she was holding.

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Well, from an objective view point.”

“Don’t think I look too fat?”

She shook her head, unable to speak, because she was too overwhelmed by the proximity of his body, his smell, the mix of sweat and spice and burnt rubber from the car crash.

“Or that my hair is too fluffy?”

Eadie forget all of the etiquette she had learned from the foreign finishing schools she had been to in India, Ceylon, Indonesia. She confidently ran her fingers through his hair, as if they were old friends or lovers, and not strangers who had just met.

“Whoever told you that is crackers. It’s just perfect.”

He grinned, and stepped back, walking off to change.

“You’re sweet, baby, know that?”

He hardly spoke when he came back in Ian’s clothes, mainly asking her about herself and what it was like to grow up as the child of an ambassador. Eadie answered his questions as they ate simple cheese omelets and drank the very sweet screwdrivers he had mixed for them.

“Ever get to the movies?”

There was a sly edge to the way he looked at her as they spoke, and she kept getting this eerie feeling of deja vu. As though they had met, perhaps he had been sitting in front of her on the plane and in the midst of jet lag, she had completely forgot about some small conversation they had. Something about his blue eyes poked at the back her mind. But she shook it off, and tried to summon all the charm she could muster.

“Sometimes they bring things in English for the Embassy, but it’s often drek. Or out cheap, British stuff. Everything from here, it takes a year of more to make its way around the world, and the dub it into Mandarin, Hindu, French, Jawa. I just saw West Side Story for the first time last month! Boy, that was a good one, dontcha think."

He pursed his lips, nodding as he ate.

"Everything in Tanzania was in French, but I that was always my worst class at school. They haven’t even got television in most of Africa yet. They set up the first station in Jakarta.”

He slid his hand over hers, and she stilled, feeling a swarm of butterflies take flight in her tummy as his thumb rubbed over her knuckles.

“American's liable to bore you, after all that.”

“Oh no, everything in America is so beautiful.” Eadie blurted out, then blushed at the smirk that grew on his face. “I - I mean the ocean, the landscape. It’s all so.” She inhaled, trying to give herself time to think of something more clever than just the same word over and over again. But she couldn’t. “Beautiful.”

His knee had just grazed hers, causing a whole other swarm of butterflies to flitter across her chest, when the doorbell rang, and Eadie jumped up to find a short, balding stout man with a wide grin, a big fancy car behind him in the drive. And before she had the chance to say beautiful ten more times, the stranger was kissing her on her cheek, his fingers linger on her neck for a beat, before bidding her farewell.

Eadie did the dishes, and wandered through the house, watching the lights of what must have been the tow truck take the black convertible away. As she made her way upstairs to bed, Eadie noticed that he’d left his dirty, tight white trousers in the downstairs bathroom. Unsure what to do, she picked them up, and realized his wallet was in the back pocket. You could hear her shriek echo through the canyon when she looked at the driver’s license. His name was as well known in Asia as it was back in England.

“Elvis bloody Presley. I asked Elvis blinking bloody Presley if he was a rapist.” She let her head crash against the glass shower door. “Ughhh, Edith Elizabeth Isaacs, you are the idiot to end all idiots.”

She went to bed wondering if she should try to return his wallet for a chance to see him again. Or keep it as a memento to remember how Elvis Presley almost ran her over one time.

***************************************************************

thanks for reading,

xoxox

norah

tagging as always @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis presley fanfiction #smash!#thatbanditqueen

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