Gwen smiled uneasily at me, Penrose and the thirteen Rat conga line we had met outside the Woak grove. I sensed that she wasn’t quite done asking questions after all because she turned to Fenwick with a puzzled expression on her face, but she failed to ask him anything because she saw that he had somehow switched out of his Oktoberfest costume and had dressed as the King, circa 1956, in the five seconds or so since she had last looked at him.
“Today is Elvis’ Birthday,” he said, as though it explained everything.
“But I thought it was Oktoberfest?” Gwen glared at John, then smiled. “You do plan on being of some use soon, darling?”
John spoke. His voice had a slight echoing quality, like the sound effect used in the original Star Trek to make a voice sound mighty. “It seems that the Springs is somewhat mercurial.”
“What does that mean, precisely? As in hot and cold? As in Freddy?”
John ignored the sarcasm. “Depends when his birthday falls.”
Gwen laughed and pulled a “handful” of John’s shoulder out like silly putty and let go and watched it snap back into place. “Tell me lover, do all your parts react like that?”
I, the wearer of the straw hat, took control of the narrative (I happened to be carrying a box, if I forgot to mention it earlier). “Now you’ve done it,” I said. “You are going to be scolded by our censor.”
The holder of the censor job varies from day to day. That way nobody gets hated anymore than anyone else. It turned out that Penrose held the title that day (which was awfully convenient). S/he pulled a clipboard out of the ether and got scoldy with Gwen. “You cannot infer sex-stuff in the Springs. You must say it. We do not approve of coy. Naughty-naughty. Shame on you. This concludes the scolding.”
Gwen looked at me, ”Are you in charge? If so, what is the Flying Stoat talking about?”
“Yes, I am as much in charge as I can be, which ain’t much,” I said. “Anyhoo, in Saragun Springs, you must ask smutty stuff directly,” I said. “For example, you can say ‘Is your dick like this?’–please Mr. Mallory, do not reply. You get scolded by the censor if you get clever about it. We find that forcing the direct approach eliminates that sort of thing altogether.”
“This is a strange place,” said John.
“I’m certain it gets weirder,” Gwen added.
“Depends on your standard of weirder,” I said, opening the box, from which I extracted two Oktoberfest tankards. “I have brought you guys something to drink.”
“How come they didn’t spill?” Gwen or John (really doesn’t matter–one of them asked it).
“Because they contain Faerie Ale, a magic brew, that can be drunk by both the living and the, um, life challenged,” I said, handing a tankard to John.
“This stuff won’t change me into a Toad or anything, will it?” cautious Gwen asked, taking hers.
I just smiled because I had no idea what the stuff might do. Faerie Ale is never harmful, but it occasionally does interesting things.
John, who hadn’t had a drink since his demise in 1978, quaffed his immediately.
Gwen regarded him with a bemused expression underscored (or overscored) with an arched eyebrow (um, her left).
He smiled. “T–riffic,” he said. “Hey, it’s not like it can make me deader.”
Gwen saw that each of us had a tankard of Faerie Ale in our hands/paws/hooves, whatever. Even the the abundant Sheep and Elvis Rats had a tankard. She did not question this, which meant that she was indeed back into the Saragun Springs’ swing of things, and drank. I assumed by his attitude that John was on board instantly, and he had a second Ale–which was good because things do get weirder.
End Part Five
(Happy Birthdays and a toast of Faerie Ale to the memories of Elvis, Steven Hawking, David Bowie and, of course, the legendary Larry Storch)
Saragun Springs 
Authoress of Springs
I didn’t know it was THE KING’S birthday today, and I also didn’t know it was also Bowie’s b-day today, so that’s AMAZING! Bowie is one of the few musical artists who can stand in the ring with The King and not get knocked down and knocked out almost immediately…The King at his worst (1960s Hollywood) was the worst there can be; and The King at his best is a great American on the level with the very, very, very best of them, even, on some levels, Abe Lincoln (I could write an essay to prove this for those who don’t believe). Jack Kerouac, Marlon Brando, and Elvis, seem, on one level, to all be different versions of each other, in writing, acting, and tunes (in the long run, the writing always lasts longest…..a fact of nature as sure as gravity, rain, or the tides).
I’ve never been to Graceland, but I have been to Tupelo, Mississippi (on a drunken road trip that also included stops in Oxford, Mississippi to visit William Faulkner’s house and dump whiskey on his grave), and Tupelo was because of The King.
“Suspicious Minds,” “Kentucky Rain,” “In the Ghetto,” and “My Way” are the four Elvis songs I’ll rock out to today in his honor to celebrate his b-day, one song for him, one for Bowie, one for Hawking, and one for Storch! (I defy anyone to listen to any of these tunes or all of them together and say Elvis ain’t great.)
The Censor’s Rule/s are hilarious!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dale
PS, As Dylan said: “After Elvis died I didn’t talk for a week.”
PPS, I can also add that youngsters in Chicagoland, both black and white, also still like The King…he retains his rebel status for many and for many it’s still the absolute focal point of the myth he created about himself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Dale
My Aunt Laverne met Elvis during the shooting of the World’s Fair film in Seattle. She is only thirteen years older than me, and she was a seventeen year old who had a job passing out flyers about various events. Somehow she and some of the other kids were introduced to him enmasse. She shook his hand and said he was genuinely nice to everyone.
Funny you mention Dylan, I listened to the basement tapes with him and the Band today.
Thank you again for your support!
Leila
LikeLike
Wow in the six degrees of separation think your closer to Elvis than most people. I wish them all happy birthday wherever they rocked up. Still liking the idea of a stretchy companion. dd
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed Diane,
Aunt Laverne is still quite proud of her brush with royalty 👑
Thank you!
Leila
LikeLike
So no bad reactions – nothing was ale-ing them. Ha-ha. I may want some fairy ale. Elvis is one of those who had so much talent, but was haywire, along with the late OJ, and Mickey Mantle, and the not late Bill Cosby out of jail on a technicality.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Doug
I think it would have gone better for Elvis if his mother hadn’t died. She had tremendous influence over him and did not see him as a money making machine.
Cosby skated, but the consensus is that he is an asshole whose rep is permanently shot to hell.
Leila
LikeLike
Many think Cosby was released because he was innocent. Not true, he was guilty, but he made a deal to pay off a victim in return for not prosecuting him for the crime. That got the appeal that set him free.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I should have done my Elvis list. There are prolly twenty or so, so here are some of the less obvious “Stranger In My Home Town”, “I Was The One”, “Feel So Bad”, “Washed My Hands In Muddy Water”. Have never heard a Beyonce or Taylor all the way through, but I rock out to Little Richard, Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis, Stones. Some big band and blues.
Totally unrelated https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9mHPK9n1Jk
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
There are some innocent people in prison, but far many more guilty ones at (were at) liberty. Late Robert Blake and MJ were guilty as hell, from what I saw.
LikeLike