Page 78 of Tracing Holland

She just smiles to herself and shakes her head.“Nothing.I just see your brain working.”

“My brain isn’t doing anything except trying to figure out why we’re locked in the display room of a chain music store.”

She grins and grabs another guitar from the wall.“How about a Martin?”

“What about my Taylor?”

“Your Taylor’s getting worked on at the moment, relax.Try this one.”

I sigh and take it from her.I like the feel of this one too, although both make me long for my ’43 Gibson.When we get back I will be craving some serious alone time with my other girlfriend.I love that Holland will be more jealous of me than the guitar.

“Ok, so now what?”

She shrugs.“So now you play.”

“Huh?”

“That was confusing?”

I roll my eyes.“Um, this whole thing is pretty damn confusing.”

“You need music, Luke.”

“I know, but…”

She shakes her head.“No, you don’t know.You don’t even understand what music is to you.What it does for you.You think you control the music, but it controls you, and you need to let it right now.So play.”

“Play what?”I cry in exasperation.

“I don’t care!Anything!”

“Holland, come on…”

She gives me a hard look and moves to the door.“Tyler, how are those strings coming?”

“Still have a couple more.”

“No problem.What’s your favorite Night Shifts Black song?”

We watch Tyler just about drop his eight-thousand-dollar guitar.“Um… ‘Better Get Back.’”

“Oh, nice!Hockey fan, huh?”

He grins and nods.“Go Wings!”

“Thanks, Ty.”

She closes the door and returns.

“‘Better Get Back.’Go.”

I’m still staring at her in disbelief.“This is crazy.”

“No, what’s crazy is the fact that one of the most incredible musicians of our generation is so shut off from his own gift that he’s embarrassed to play his own song in front of his girlfriend.”She moves to the stool beside me.“Please, Luke, just trust me.You’ve had a brutal couple days.You need this.You need to let the music be more than music.”

I have no idea how to argue with that and finally give up the fight.I adjust the guitar in my hands and grip the neck.Drawing in a deep breath, I stare at the opposite wall and start to play.

As the music comes out, the world begins to melt away like it so often does.It’s not a different reality; it just feels different, more possible.It’s the same way I feel when I’m on stage, when I’m writing, when I jammed with Percy alone in my room while my mom and her boyfriend screamed at each other in the kitchen.Like the life that I could have is right there, right at my fingertips, and when I play I actually get to touch it for a few brief seconds.

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