17 - There dwells a spirit, waiting to be released

Okay, I’m officially going over the edge  It was the third time in the last hour that Merlyn thought that. This time, he spun around because he felt as if someone was watching him. The lights in the studio were all blazing, leaving no corner unlit, so he could see he was alone and yet the feeling persisted. That’s it; I need to get out of here.

After wrapping and storing the clay piece he was working on and cleaning up, he turned off the studio lights. As he left the room he again had the feeling of being observed. A quick check of the short hall and the stairs revealed nothing, so, closing the door behind him he headed down to his bedroom. By the time he got there he’d managed to shake the feeling.

I’m spooked because of the roses and Alt’s murder, that’s all there is to it. I’m letting my imagination run wild.

After showering he stood in the middle of the bedroom trying to decide what he wanted to do. He could take the simple route and just go out to dinner he supposed, or he could really get his mind off of things and hit up a club. Then again he could combine the two. There was one club he and Alton had gone to a couple of years ago where the food was edible and the music almost bearable. He could find a dark corner, sit back and try to let go of some of the tensions that had been plaguing him for the last couple of weeks. Then he could come back home and actually get some decent work done on his ‘Club’ series of sculptures.

With that decided he got dressed, eschewing the leather pants in favor of a pair of nice dress slacks and a soft cotton shirt. After pulling his hair back into the pewter clasp that Alton had given him years ago, he checked the full-length mirror on the closet door. He passed muster he decided so he gathered up his keys and wallet and left, making certain the security alarm was on.

Fifteen minutes later he’d parked his car and was entering the club. Dim lighting and danceable, decent music greeted him as he strolled towards the bar. He planned on getting a drink first and then finding a table, maybe one on the patio balcony overlooking the bay as the evening promised to stay warm. From there he could watch the men dancing and still remain separated from the crowd.

The bartender greeted him like a long lost friend. Merlyn found that amusing as it had been over two years since he’d last been here. Once he had his whiskey sour in hand he turned to watch the dance floor. Most of the men were paired off but there were, as always, a few who danced alone just for the enjoyment of it or to show off in hopes of catching someone’s eye. Putting his drink down, Merlyn took out his ever-present pad and did a few quick sketches. One man especially caught his attention. Young, well built, and for some reason vaguely familiar, the man danced with reckless abandon, obviously caught up in the music. After dashing off several sketches of him Merlyn closed the pad, pocketed it, picked up his drink and went in search of a free table so that he could eat in peace and relative quiet.