Radio Waves of the Macabre [On Hiatus]

Chapter 5 - Descent and Decay

It took all of a mere ten minutes for David to wind his way back up to Grady's. The rain dripped, a slow, misty faucet leak, flung sideways by the increasing wind. By the time he had reached the wrought iron railing that marked the steps down, sweat and rain mingled and soaked through his hair and beaded along his forehead. His cheeks flushed from windburn and his side throbbed from a runner's cramp.

He didn't know why he had honed in on the bar, but as his mind raced trying to make sense of the sketch from dinner, he had auto-piloted straight back. He hadn't remembered opening the Moleskine, let alone taking pencil to paper. The sketch itself had been as much a shock to him as it must have been to Erika. More so, perhaps, for he had been the one compelled to draw it. Was compelled even the right word? He had drawn it, surely, but was one compelled if they had no memory of the act? Or were they used? That was the word, wasn't it? Used. He had been used, a vessel for that sketch's creation. It made no sense, and yet somehow he knew this bar had something to do with it .

Now he stood alone at the top of the steps, clutching the railing as he simultaneously gasped for breath and fought against his heaving stomach. Conrad was his friend; he didn't wish him any ill will any more than he wanted to fillet Kris Glazer's fingers. Yet both the sketch and the daydream imprinted fresh on his mind, and he knew this place had birthed them both.

Slowly catching his breath, David straightened up, flicking rain and sweat from his brow, and stared at the sign at the bottom of the stairway. It swung on its two iron hinges, a wooden relic of bygone days. Another alarm bell rang. This bar did not belong here. Somehow it seemed a place out of time, displaced in an era and region in which it had no right to exist.

David steeled himself, and then began his descent.

***

As he opened the door to the bar a blast of cold air engulfed him. He clutched his arms to his sides and entered.

Generally a Hollywood bar's clientele would have picked up by this hour, but not only had most of the previous patrons left for the evening, but also very few new patrons had come to take their place. The only faces that remained were those of the red-headed bartender and the young girl with the USC cap, though she lay slumped face down against the bar with only her cap visible to distinguish her.

David took a seat once more, slipping out his wallet and leafing through his credit cards in hopes of finding one that hadn't maxed out. Finally, he settled on a Visa for which he held out hope of an unreached credit limit.

"Another Dos Equis."

"Sure." The bartender wandered off disinterestedly, perhaps to get David his beer, perhaps to check on the drunken girl at the end of the bar, or maybe just to do fuck all. It could have been any of the three.

David swiveled on his stool and surveyed the empty seats and the peeling walls. What had it been about this place that had dredged up the very worst in him? No, that was wrong. This place hadn't brought out his worst. This place had summoned it forth from a darkness that wasn't even a part of him; and then it had tried to make him one with it.

Now, however, the place felt sad and empty. No hint lingered of that which had overpowered him earlier that evening. 

The booths sat unoccupied, their cracked leather upholstery offering further proof of the establishment's state of decay. No footfalls fell on the scratched wood flooring. No drunken laughter broke the silence. Only the drunken college girl passed out in the corner, the apathetic bartender, and the timeworn furnishings remained, the stolid, unfaltering occupants of an aged dive. All in all, the scene came off bleak and depressing, but in no way evoked the irresistible siren-call of his previous abhorrent imaginings. Whatever had been responsible for the violent intrusion in his psyche had vanished in the time between David's departure and his return.

The bartender slid over his Dos Equis. David lifted the glass with a friendly tip, half-toast, then relaxed into the stool. That unnamable something that had welled up inside of him died off with a silent paroxysm, then decayed until even its memory crumbled to ash.

He sipped at his beer, thinking about Erika and the explaining that awaited him when he returned to her apartment, but that hiccup could be smoothed over. The world had righted itself, and for all that he knew then, that corrected state would subsist without end.

David grinned at his own absurdity, delighting in the cheer that rushed in as his evening's anxieties abated. He'd snapped. He'd had a bad meeting, he'd lost control for a moment, and while the evening had certainly been disturbing it had also been an anomaly. That was all. It had to be.

For all its crazy pitfalls, life was good, and the possibilities limitless. Soon he would reschedule and meet with Glazer and the doorway of opportunity would finally open to him. He glanced once more over the bar, its interior blurring as again his sight faded, yet even that could not weigh him down. A few decent sales and a little help from Erika and he would be able to see a specialist for his eyes. Yes, everything would soon be coming up David Li.

------

Author's Note:

I hope you're enjoying Radio Waves of the Macabre so far. If so, please comment, vote, share a link, or spread the word. Your feedback and engagement is very much appreciated.

Also, what are your thoughts so far?

Why is David drawn back to this bar?

Will this be his last visit?

And why has the world suddenly righted itself?

Up next:
Night bleeds into a new day with an awakening in the dark...