Story Time: Mother’s Les Paul 4

I glided my hand along the sunburst finish of Annabell’s body.  Smooth as glass and polished to a shine, it was still flawless.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  In my mind I didn’t know how it could be.  The truck hit me hard enough to throw us both.  I don’t know how I wasn’t injured or worse. I closed the case as best I could with the damage and got out of the street.  The little girl and baby sitter were taking off.  The police were showing up, and I called out to the baby sitter.  “Hey wait up.”  She turned back to look at me.  In the distance, behind her, I thought I saw Gabrielle.  There was a flash of that ice blue and shimmer of blue highlighted hair.  I refocused into the distance but didn’t see her.  I must have just had her on my mind.  The baby sitter stopped looking at me and turned to run, holding the girl with her.  I took a step to give chase but my back suddenly flared with pain.  I wasn’t going to catch her anyway.  She wasn’t really needed either, there were a bunch of witnesses.

After talking to the police about the situation I was quickly dismissed.  That was good because I was now at least 30 minutes late for class.  At least I wasn’t having a hard time in Music Theory.  Nevertheless I hustled to get to the music building now.  I wanted to see if repairs could be made on my case.  I also wanted to inspect my guitar with a fine tooth comb.  I wasn’t going to be at ease until then.  I trotted along at a comfortable pace.  The deep tissue muscles under my shoulder blades were still tight.  I could tell they were going to be sore for a while.  I counted myself lucky that was the extent of my injuries and opened the door to Ellis Hall.

Dr. Davis was in the room, already wrapping up today’s lecture.  I walked in quietly and sat down near the doors.  He saw me and nodded.  I nodded back and caught my friend Braidy’s eye as she looked back at me too.  She didn’t seem impressed that I was late.  I shrugged and she looked back at the professor to pay attention.  She was a good friend, honest, loyal, extremely talented with a bass guitar, and good on the vocals.  She was pretty but not stunning.  She was attractive in the way’s a guitar wielding talent could be but she didn’t let it go to her head.  She was one of my best friends and a good chick to have in your corner.  “Well I suppose we’re good on modulation schemes.   Any questions?”  The professor looked about and when he caught my eye I shook my head.  Like always no one really had anything to ask this late into class.  Everyone was ready to head out.  “Alright, if there’s anything else just see me in my office.”  Then he started towards the back of the classroom where his office was.  We all started to get up.  I grabbed my guitar case and walked in his direction.

If anyone knew a good way to fix the case he would.  I didn’t want to have to sink another 50 bucks into a new case.  “Professor Davis.”  I called.  He turned and I could see he was waiting for me.   Braidy caught up with me then and she gasped when she saw the case.  “Doctor can we look at my guitar?  I was in an accident.” He interrupted me. “Are you ok?”  I nodded.  “Yeah my back kinda hurts but it’s my Les Paul.”  He smirked.  Then looked at my case.  “You do realize you only get one back.”  I smiled. “It’s just sore.  Please if you could.  I’m nervous I missed something.”   The professor opened the case.  It opened weird and the hinge broke.  The professor took a deep breath as he laid his eyes on the guitar.   He picked it up and cradled it in his hands with deference.  “Son, is this a reissue?”  He asked.  I shook my head.  “Not that I know of.  It was restored but original.”  He nodded.  “I wouldn’t let this thing out of your sight then, if it’s original.”  He strummed a few blues chords and Anabelle sang for him.  He closed his eyes and brought his fingers down to the cutaway to bring Anabelle’s pitch to a high whine.  He bit his bottom lip and let his fingers grace along her neck, brushing his other hand against her strings like a lover.  He played her like a man traveling through time.  She brought him back to when he was young, and all that ever mattered was the music.  I felt my chest heat up with the tinge of jealousy.  After a brief jam, he set my baby down in the ruined case, then looked at me.  “I’ll give you thirty thousand dollars for it right now.”  I blinked.  “Umm.  I…  I can’t.   My mom gave it to me.”   He nodded.  “I see.  Well make sure you treat her right then.  Go buy yourself a metal case.  She’s perfect.”  He took a step back and into his office, closing the door behind him.  Braidy looked at me.  Neither of us could say a word.