Elvis and Turtles

Chapter One

391 Baltimore Street. That’s all I need to remember. When I find the building all I have to do is go inside and pay the man, then leave. It will be simple; I won’t have to say much, I can just go in and then come right out.

I can see the sign for Baltimore Street; there is no more time to chicken out. Speaking to people has never come easy to me. Teachers, new students, store clerks, anyone. They are all intimidating.  I don’t know how, but I always come up with the wrong thing to say, and every person gives me that same look. The ‘Are-you-serious’ look. However, I needed to speak to the man who owns this instrument repair shop.

My mother sent my clarinet in to be fixed a few days ago and now I have to pick it up. My mother oh-so-coincidentally had to be somewhere right now. Not that I believe that for a second; she is always trying to “get me out of my shell” by making me talk to people. Last time I checked I was most definitely not a turtle and I do not have a shell, I’m just really shy. Okay maybe I am like a turtle, if people start talking to me I tend to like duck and cover inside my personal shell; my mind.

I park my car on a side street about two blocks away, where I can just see the sign for "Mr. Setter's Music Repair" up ahead, so I put my head down and take baby steps the entire way. An old song from Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer gets stuck in my head and as I walk I hum "just put one foot in front of the other." I am standing in front of the building, steadying my nerves when my best friend Cymphonie texts me “Hey Sam!”

I replied, “Hey! What’s up?”

          “Guess what!”

          “I give up...”

          “You know that guy I was telling you about the other day, the one who play the guitar and stuffs?”

          “Oh, yeah! The one who you said was totally special?”

          “Yeah, that one! Well he asked me out last night! I now officially have a date Friday! He goes to Northview High. I really like him. His name is Austin. It’s great! But hey, I have to run just wanted to tell you the news! loveya!”

Cymphonie is so pretty, sweet and fun. She has perfectly long blonde hair, beautiful big green eyes and a killer tan. I bet this guy is great. Otherwise, she wouldn't like him. Well time to go in the store. I reach for the handle and give it a slight tug. It didn’t took me long to notice the sign that says ‘push.’ That's just great; I hope no one saw that. As I open the door, a small bell rings above my head, and I step in.

The inside of the building is not what I was expecting at all. I had been imagining a large, clean, white building full of shiny instruments and lots of people. What I see before me is far from that. The shop is a small two room building, with cupboards, showcases and shelves full of any different type of noise maker you can think of. It has the smell of a grandparent’s house. It isn’t an unpleasant smell, it just seems old.

In the main room there are fading posters on the walls of people, holding up their instruments and telling why they prefer a certain brand of reed. A slight layer of dust covers the top of each shelf and the carpet looks like it hasn’t been vacuumed since the day it was put in.  The store is full of guitars, mandolins and hundreds of cases containing who-knows-what kind of instruments. The glass cupboards are full of instruments that were probably played when George Washington was alive.

As I gawk at the store, I didn’t even notice that an old man came out from back room. I continue to exam an ancient looking tuba and that’s when I felt it, like someone is watching me. I look up and about five feet away from me, an old man wearing an apron embroidered with all different types of instruments. He looks really nice, but that fact that he is just right there scares the daylights out of me; so I do the only natural thing, I screamed.