The Dusty Guitar

A few days ago my friend and former bandmate Mark posted a picture of his acoustic guitar sitting lonely in the corner of his music room. The image was familiar, but because my guitars and flute get fairly regular workouts these days, I couldn't quite place the sense of familiarity.

Then it hit me. The final section of my first novel, Gabriel's Songbook (unpublished), features a scene like that--a music room where a guitar and a piano sit untouched and gathering dust.

Then I was on Genesis Road, winding my way toward the cabin in the woods. Then easing into the driveway and coasting to a stop beneath the kitchen window. My Guild still lay in the trunk, so I got it out and wearily climbed the steps to the deck and slipped through the back door.

In my music room, I turned on a small lamp, looked at Uncle T's old Martin on its stand and lay down on the daybed without taking off my clothes.

I coughed and heard the sympathetic vibration of the Martin's d-string. I looked towards it but didn't get up in response to its call. Its faded and pitted finish testified to all it had been through with me since it had joined me for my move to Nashville so long ago. More and more these days, its strings stretched in silence, untouched, and its womanly curves waited and waited for the return of my passion and warm caresses.

I reached up and turned off the light.

My ancient upright piano filled the room with an earthy aroma of dust and old wood and sweat that reminded me of the tiny mountain church in which it had spent half a century or more. How many poundings had its keys taken in revivals back across those years? With what fervor had its strains of "Just As I Am" rung the walls of the old church and wrung the hearts of countless sinners through countless altar calls? After all that passion and soul, it surely felt dead and buried under my distracted and disheartened tinkerings.

"Maybe I won't be away much longer," I mumbled in the darkness. I reached out and took the guitar from its stand, laid it on my chest and wrapped my arms around it and fell asleep.