I can’t, Ms. Perry.” He shrugged his shoulders and fidgeted, his feet desperate to return to the still-familiar – and slightly calming – march...of his time in the service.“Please, call me Lana. Come on,” she said, taking his hand. Her hand felt so soft and tiny as it wrapped around his, lifting it. She tugged, and he followed as she led him to a chair. “Sit down,” she prompted.With a great sigh, he did so. After only a second, he said, “I feel like I’m coming out of my skin.”“Will you try. He hadbeen a studio player longer than I had been alive. His cords had backed up the legend of the jazz, blues, and the Motown music business for decades. At first he humored me when I said I knew how to play. Then my questions proved I knew what I was talking about. When the music started I was surprised to feel his hand on my shoulder guiding me to the door. The bouncer tried to stop us but Charley waved him off. He led me to the stage put a spare guitar in my hand and gestured for me to. More

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