GRACELAND
Bev Davies enters, humming snatches of the same song. She is wearing a matching polyester set of pants
and a vest, and a heavily curled wig. She carries a cooler, large bag, beach chair, and pop-up tent. She
sets down everything but the tent, which she begins to assemble. It comes together rapidly. Absorbed in
her efforts, she doesn’t notice the entrance of Rootie Mallert, whose gaze is held by the vision of the
mansion, out front. She doesn’t notice Bev. Rootie is wearing tattered shorts, a faded shell neck tee shirt
and clunky sandals. She carries a pillow and a brown paper bag. As Rootie rests herself on the pillow,
Bev notices Rootie and sets up her chair in an authoritative manner. Rootie takes a makeup purse out of
her brown paper bag, and begins checking herself out intently. This is a nervous habit which she repeats
several times during the play. She is suddenly aware of Bev through the compact mirror, and looks over.
There is a moment of silence.
Rootie: Hey
Bev: Hello (There is another awkward pause. Finally-)
Rootie: Nice chair
Bev: Thank you. I was here first.
Rootie: Pardon?
Bev: I said I was here first.
Rootie: Oh (pause) I think I was.
Bev: Excuse me?
Rootie: I’m sorry ma’am, I hope you don’t mind, but I think I was here first, I really do.
Bev: (stares at Rootie, then turns and stares straight ahead. With finality--) I was here first.
Rootie: I put my pillow down before you put your chair down.
Bev: What?!!
Rootie: Well, I heard you put your chair down in the grass, and my pillow was already down by
then.
Bev: That’s crazy, that is just crazy. How the hell could you hear that? Grass doesn’t make noise.
Rootie: A chair is louder than a pillow.
Bev: What the hell does that mean? A pin is louder than a feather but that doesn’t mean you
could hear it fall in the grass.
Rootie: But I sat down before you, that’s what counts.
Bev: No it doesn’t
Rootie: Yes it does
Bev: No it doesn’t
Rootie: Yes it does (A stalemate)
Bev: What are you doing here anyway? Why don’t you just chase after one of those teenage idol
types and leave this to the people who really care?
Rootie: I care.
Bev: What could you possibly know?
Rootie: Elvis didn’t smoke.
Bev: of course he didn’t smoke, Lord; I knew that, you just threw me off with all that other stuff.
Rootie: I was here first.
Bev: Now one damn minute. I was the first person to enter the Meditation Garden and Gravesite
when it opened and I was the first person to go into his museum when it opened and I was the
first person to touch his statue when they unveiled it and now that in three days, when they are
finally going to open his home, the most sacred place of all, I am goddamned well going to be
the first person to set foot through those doors.
Rootie: Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am?
Bev: What?!
Rootie: I’ll tell you why I got to go in there first.
Bev: Shoot
Rootie: Well The day it opens is Beau’s birthday.
Bev: Weebo?
Rootie: No, Beau, my brother.
Bev: oh, that explains everything. You want to get in there first so you can ask Elvis’ ghost to
wish your brother a Happy Birthday. Look, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll give you a dollar and
you can go buy him a car, ok? (She gets her bag and begins searching through it)
Rootie: I can’t, I can’t send it to him.
Bev: What’s the matter, can’t spell his address?
Rootie: He’s dead.
Bev: Oh. I—Oh. Well, my God, why the hell didn’t you say so? That’s a terrible thing to do,
letting me go on like that.
Rootie: I’m sorry.
Bev: I accept your apology.
(Rootie runs to get a frayed picture out of her bag.)
Rootie: Look – there’s Beau, and that’s Weebo right next to him. They were best buddies.
Bev: you ain’t seen nothing yet, (Bev pulls out two pictures from her bag) take a look at these
pictures. What can you see?
Rootie: One’s Elvis. Who’s the other one?
Bev: What do you mean, who’s the other one, they both look exactly alike. That’s my husband,
(Rootie hugs her pillow to her chest, and begins to nod off. Bev notices.)
Tyler. You tired, Roo?
Rootie: Guess so.
Bev: Why don’t you take a rest in there?
Rootie: What about you, Bev?
Bev: Too stuffy for me. And here. (She hands Rootie her Elvis needlepoint.). Bet that’ll give you
nice dreams.
Rootie: Oh Bev, it’s so beautiful. I’m afraid I might get hair dirt on it or something. Now I feel
kinda bad. You loved him for so long.
Bev: Just go. Sleep.
Rootie: Okay (She starts to go, then turns around and hands Bev her beat-up pillow
impulsively.). Here, this is real comfortable. It was Beau’s and he used to push it and mash it
until it got all flat and mushy the way he wanted.
Bev: Thank you Rootie (She looks at her, then gives her a big hug, which is returned by Rootie)
Tell Beau and Elvis I send all my love.
Rootie: I will (She goes into tent. Bev sits silently for a moment. Then reaches into her bag and
pulls a liquor bottle. Bev pops open the bottle, pours a shot into a Dixie cup, closes the bottle,
and raises drink in a toast.)
Bev: This one’s for you, Ty baby, whatever highway you’re on right now, God bless you. (She
takes a drink, the puts away the bottle.)