Page 79 of Tracing Holland

Then, Holland Drake came along and shoved life right into my soul.

At some point Tyler returns with the guitar, but I don’t stop playing.I hardly even notice him as the chords bleed into song which bleeds into art.The expression on Holland’s face as she watches me play is just as mesmerizing.It’s more than pride, it’s pure joy that she gets to be part of a moment.As though I’m givingherthe gift.

No one moves when I finish, least of all Tyler who looks completely paralyzed.There’s the warmth again and I wave him over.

“You play?”I ask.

He nods.“Yeah, but not like that.”

I laugh.“Grab a guitar.That my Taylor?”

He hands me the Taylor, and I give the Martin back to Holland.

“What’s your favorite Tracing Holland song?”I ask, and love how Holland glows at my question.

“Um, ‘Perfect Storm,’ probably,” he says.

“Yeah, me too.”

I strum the new guitar and grin.“This has a nice tone.I like the feel of it.”

Tyler nods.“Yeah, it does.It’s got that sweet cutaway too.The other model in the series doesn’t.”

“Have you ever played it?”

“A little.”

I hand it to him.“Play something.”

“Um…”

“Do you write any original stuff?”I ask, helping him along.

He reddens a bit, but nods.“Some.”

“Ok, so play us that.”

His eyes shoot to mine in shock.“Seriously?”

“Yeah, why not.I want to hear the guitar store expert play this thing.”

He grins at my joke and seems to relax a bit.“Ok, sure.”

He moves to one of the other stools, and we settle back to listen.

When he starts to play, Holland and I exchange a surprised look.The kid’s not bad.He’s actually a whole lot better than not bad.

“I’m Nowhere Man in nowhere spaces

Everywhere a thousand faces, places spill from beneath the wreckage

Oh it’s over now

Oh oh it’s over

I’m Forgotten Man in endless races

Chasing air with futile paces, traces of the craft that made us