Permanent Scars

Musician

September 2. Saturday. 4:17 p.m.

Restlessness has driven me from the house, and I've spent hours walking around town, exploring because I honestly don't get out much and as a result there's so much to see and do.

Leaving the clothing shops behind and catching the faint sound of an electric guitar riff, I step onto the sidewalk and make my way to a music store on the corner of the street. Peeking through the window, I'm astounded by the large array of stringed instruments, drums, and keys. And I know I just have to go inside.

The door is propped open, so I very quietly wander through it and stand in the large space, larger than I gained impression of from my view through the window. Some guy at the desk greets me but I don't really notice him. As I walk a little deeper, to my left there's an entire wall of electric guitars, hung floor to ceiling. Amps are towered in organized stacks. The spectacle of it all is breathtaking in an almost sacred way.

After gazing at the instruments for what seems like forever, and yet mere seconds, I decide to touch one and pick it up. It's a deep emerald color with gold inlays. Not my favorite look, but definitely interesting. Taking a seat on one of many stools conveniently scattered about the place, I plug the guitar into one of the test amps and strum it gently.

Quite frankly, I really don't know how to play. I've always wanted to learn, considering that a guitar is kind of like a big ukulele, although I know they certainly have their differences. That's what makes a guitar a guitar and an uke an uke.

I do know a few scales, though, so I can test them on the fretboard. The strings are so smooth and make it so easy to play. I've handled acoustic guitars before, and they're really my favorite, but I have small hands and it's hard to play a standard-sized one. These electric guitars have slimmer necks that make stretching easier.

Frustrated that I can't even play a real riff, I put the guitar away and wander into the alcove where the keyboards are. The guy who was at the desk is fingering one of the keyboards, playing a gentle and familiar melody. It makes me smile, and feeling awkward I turn to the ukulele section. I've been thinking of getting a better case for mine, since the one I currently have is just a cheap zip-up canvas job that my sister once picked up at a bargain center. She always promised to decorate it for me, but then she got married and moved away and quite clearly will never keep that promise. Besides, I've always wanted a solid case; one that ensures my uke will be protected from the elements and from harmful impacts, should it ever be so unfortunate to encounter such things.

Hard cases are expensive, but I've been saving credits for quite some time now. Surely I'm not far from having enough. Daddy always offered to pay for it, but I feel as though it wouldn't be as special to me. It would feel so good to be able to buy something for myself, and make the decision to take good care of my purchase. I'm sick of everything I own being a gift. Almost all my possessions have been given to me, not earned by my own accord.

Eyeing each case intensely, feeling the material and testing their method of open and closure, I finally spot one I like. It's a cement gray color, hard leather, with the option for customized lining. There are swatches of colors to choose from, but I know I want a shiny black satin so the pretty mint green uke will really pop out once inside. The handle on the case is black, and the lock latches are silver, as are the hinges. I'm in love with it already.

Cases on display aren't available for purchase, but they still have a price tag, as do the color swatches. The model I'm choosing is the most basic one, but I like simple things and I know it is a high-quality item. It doesn't bother me that it isn't personalized. I can personalize it myself for free, and goodness knows I certainly will do such a thing. Plain, simple things are the best things, because you can always add your own touch to them to make them more interesting. Make them your own.

After checking the prices and how many credits I have, I consider waiting to make my purchase. Maybe I should think it over before spending so much.

Standing at the register with the little item ticket in hand, I shut my eyes and think hard. My heart races as I make my decision. I will go through with it. I need a better case, and besides, it's nice to treat myself for once. It'll help me feel better about kicking off my school year in a new place with new faces, new cliques, new teachers and new rules.

A smile comes to my face as I think about new friends. Adam was a lot of fun to be around. I remember him saying something about playing the guitar. I bet he'd love this store.

The employee guy (or maybe he's the owner; I can't tell) comes to the desk and assists me with the completion of my transaction, saying my case will be ready by the end of the week. I thank him, take my receipt, and leave the store feeling lighter somehow. Like I actually did something good, something right. I made a decision for myself and I stuck to it, and it felt good to be in charge of the situation.

Now I don't have as much money as I used to. But that's okay. I really did need a new case.

As I step onto the sidewalk and round a corner, I bump into someone.

"Hey. How's it going?"

Adam. Feeling shy because I definitely didn't expect to actually see him around, I manage a faint smile and mumble, "Uh, okay I guess."

"You guess?" His face bears a quizzical expression that soon softens into a smirk.

"How are you?" I venture, eager to get past short sentences and into a real conversation.

"I'm doing alright, myself. Forgive my asking, but you don't get out much, do you?"

I shake my head no.

"Thought so, cuz I've never seen you around until we met at school."

"Yeah, I stay at home most of the time. But my dad's away now, so I got kinda bored."

He smiles, and his eyes glow warmly. "I'd show you around but my lunch break is pretty much shot now, so maybe another time. I have to get back to work."

"Where do you work?"

His smile grows into a grin, flashing white teeth, accompanied by a small chuckle. "Same store you just came out of."

I glance back at the corner I rounded. "No way."

"Yes way. I work there so I can fund my musical endeavors. It's so much fun."

All I can do is nod, because really I don't know what to say. Of course he would work there. I'm pretty sure I felt his vibe inside that building. No wonder he kept popping into my mind. Well, there's the whole vibe thing, but honestly, I think I've just missed him. It seems odd to miss someone I hardly know, but he just comes across as such a kindred spirit. He's so laid-back, but has so much energy and enthusiasm. It's hard not to want to be around someone like that. I could use a bit of verve in my life.

"Well, I'll see ya' Monday," he smiles, preparing to leave. I nod again and he just shakes his head, waving as he heads back to work. I could follow him, honestly. I could hang around the store until his shift is over. I could just sit and play the display ukes, soaking in his presence, feeling his spiritedness. There's just something about that boy. He makes me feel a certain way, but it's not a crush and it's not an infatuation. He makes me feel like I don't have to be the shy girl that I always am in public, and I haven't been around him or in public very much to even justify that claim, but I know it's true. He makes me feel like me. And I haven't felt like me for at least two years.

Well, as it's getting late. I probably should start toward home so I can get supper for myself. I do wish I didn't set curfews for myself, but since I'm home alone I have to be responsible. Besides, Daddy will check in on me when he has the chance and I want to render accounts of good behavior to him; for instance, not staying out too late, getting to bed on time, keeping up with the housework; those kinds of things. It makes him proud and happy to know I can take care of things on my own. But to be very forward, I don't like it all that much. Sometimes I wish I could be careless and irresponsible and lazy. Just sometimes. Not all the time, as I do like order and cleanliness. But to wing it every once in awhile, to have just a few really good, close friends to stay out with at night, getting into all kinds of crazy shenanigans that aren't bad in the least, that's something I'd love to have. Something I often dream of.

However, I fear it may have to remain a dream and only a dream. It's unfortunate, but then again, reality often is.