Cant You See
-Prologue-
Chicago
August 14th, 1979
"Shel, where are we going?! Dad's gonna be so mad at you!"
"Shut up and stay close, we're almost there…" With a spirit of possibility and a whining seven year old in tow, he skipped rocks along the abandoned tracks of the 'L' line heading out of the city limits. For three weeks they'd been stuck in the hotel room, watching repeated cartoons and ordering as much room service as could fit through the door, but none of it was interesting anymore. Seeking adventure, the duo had skipped out per demands of the elder sibling, and used their father's hard earned cash to hop the Yellow Line out of the city and into a town called Skokie. "It's so hot…why don't we go back and get ice cream? Come on Jeff…"
"No! Stop being a baby."
Hot headed and distracted to insanity by the dirt in her shoes, Shane ran full force between the rusted metal tracks and shoved the slight of her brother's back, proving herself just as much a dictator as he could be. "God, you moron…we're almost there, just chill out."
"We better be…and I'm not a baby!" And he was right on both fronts; they had so made it their destination when the sun began to set down across the edges of the city. Having forgotten her anger over him, Shane clung to the familiar place at the back of her older brother's shirt, tiptoeing towards the rustic building behind him. Sheldon had seen the shop almost a month before on their train ride into Chicago, and knew that as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he was coming back for what he wanted, with or without his dad's approval. The shadowed doorway was struck with the glint of late sunlight as they stepped inside, his eyes darting all around in wonderment, utter joy. The store was deserted save for a harried and disgruntled man sitting behind the high counter, and as the two approached him, he growled with a smirk. "You tikes lost or somethin'?"
"No." Sheldon replied sarcastically, eluding his position of pre-teen attitude. "We're here to buy."
"Buy what, kid?"
Not having a sure sense of their stock, he let his eyes scatter the distance of the room, seeing six strings and Telecasters, as many Gibsons' as could fit, but only a single instrument lingering in the back of his mind. He wasn't sure if they would even have one, yet something told him with just a few more glances there would be a…Ah. There it is…he turned back to the man with coy knowledge. "That 61' Fender Strat on the other wall, the black one…how much is it?"
"More than your allowance will ever allow you boy."
"Try me," he tested, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his Levi's and smirking at the older man. Shane still clung to his shirt desperately, afraid of the dim light of this place, the cigarette smoke wafting in the air, and the man's hungry voice. "It's 2,500."
Moving down to pull the bills from the worn leather, Sheldon counted out what he needed and tossed it onto the glass counter. The man's eyes grew thick with surprise and he took one last puff from his cigarette before putting it out and walking across the dark space to where the guitar clung to the wall. In a hushed whisper Shane dug her fist into his back, "Jeff, dad is gonna kill you!"
"Let him try, Shy." Moments later the guitar was resting between his palms, the only thing he had ever wanted, the only thing he felt he could ever need in this world. Its strings were taut with a desire to be strummed, a solid body that deserved rough care, just like a beautiful girl. And even at eleven, he knew exactly what that sort of care would entail. After nods and thanks were given, he and Shane darted back out onto the wiry road heading into the city. 'This is it man…this is all I need…this is all I'll ever need…'