SoMa Literary Review - Terror at 1015 Folsom

Terror at 1015 Folsom

By Kemble Scott

The detective drove around to the back of the nightclub. The alley behind 1015 Folsom was closed off by half a dozen ambulances, their red flashing lights shooting a swarm of fiery blasts onto the walls of nearby buildings. As he parked and walked over, he saw a victim rolled out on a stretcher.

“How many?” he asked an EMT after flashing his badge.

“Not sure,” the woman said. “They’re doing triage inside. Several with broken legs. It was a stampede.”

“Nothing worse than panic,” the detective deadpanned. “Anyone say what caused it?”

“I spoke to some of the injured. No fire. No smoke. There wasn’t even an alarm pulled. People started collapsing on the dance floor. Then all hell broke loose.”

The detective walked toward the door of the club, not bothering to thank the EMT for her report. The woman clearly didn’t know very much and he had no time to waste. He had to get to the scene and make sure he secured any evidence before the rescue crews disturbed it, if they hadn’t already.

When he entered, all the house lights were up. Without the darkness, lasers and frenetic lighting, discos were so bland and cavernous, he thought, like empty warehouses. To the right near the bar medics treated about a dozen club patrons.

“Detective,” a uniformed beat cop called from across the room. “I think we found something.”

The detective noted where the floor changed from carpet to wood. The dance floor. This is where it all started, according to the EMT.

The officer pointed to a shiny metal object. The detective took a pair of latex gloves out of his back pocket and slipped them on as he knelt down for a closer look. It appeared to be made from stainless steel, about an inch in diameter. It gleaned, even under the dull lifeless fluorescents. He reached over and gently touched. Hard. Definitely metal, possibly solid. It seemed coated in some sort of liquid. Instinctively he sniffed his fingers. A familiar scent, but not chemical. It didn’t smell dangerous. What in the world was it?

“Yo. We got another one over here,” a second uniformed officer said from the other side of the dance floor.

Two? The detective felt a slight panic. Were these things more than just steel? What if they were plutonium or something radioactive? Maybe a dirty bomb! They’d been warned something like this could happen ever since 9-11.

“Get all these people out of here,” the detective shouted as he stood up. “Now!”

“What is it?” one of the cops asked.

“Dunno. But we can’t take any chances.” The detective brushed sweat from his brow up into his thick gray mane. “Just get everyone the fuck out.”

“You think it’s terrorists, don’t you?”

The young cop’s insistence for an answer enraged the detective.

“Get out!”

***

Barbara had never been to Good Vibes before. It was all the way over in the Mission , on the other side of the world compared to the Marina . They had to drive to get there!

She’d heard of it, of course. It was world famous. She just never thought of herself as the type of women who’d ever go into one of those stores. The dirty kind. Only men who wore trench coats went to those places.

Joan and Diane said it wasn’t like that at all. They seemed shocked at the suggestion. They’d been many times, and there was nothing seedy. Yes, it was a place to buy “helpers” for sex. What was wrong with that? Sex was perfectly natural and healthy. There was nothing to be ashamed about at Good Vibes.

“Someday I’m going to trade in my deadbeat husband for a good dog and a great vibrator,” Diane said matter-of-factly from behind the wheel.

Barbara blushed.

“Let’s face it, honey,” Joan said looking to the backseat with the most consoling tone. “It’s been a while for you. Ever since you broke up with Sean…”

“He broke up with me,” Barbara reminded.

“Fuck, girl. Have a little pride,” barked Diana as she took a deep drag from a menthol light. “From now on, you dumped him. That’s the story you should spin. That’s what I’m telling everyone.”

“Don’t do that!” Barbara pleaded. What if Sean heard she’d been saying that?

“Nobody wants somebody’s sloppy seconds,” said Diane. “You need to put the best face on things if you’re gonna find someone else. How old are you?”

“Uh, twenty four.”

“Have you ever dated anyone besides this guy Sean?”

“Of course I have!” Barbara protested, then whispered, “Back in high school.”

“That settles it,” Joan sounded stunned. “You’re a grown woman now living in San Francisco of all places. It’s time for your sexual liberation.”

“Damn right!” Diana blew out a plume of smoke.

They found a parking space on Mission Street in front of the store. “Rock star parking,” Diane called it.

When they walked inside Barbara couldn’t believe how bright and cheerful the place was. Row after row of gleaming clean glass shelves featured colorful displays. And the shop was filled with normal looking people. There were many young women just like her, and even a few couples. Men and women shopping together. It all was a bit similar to Nordstrom’s!

Then she looked closely at what was for sale. Oils and lotions. Nothing seemly about that. She’d long ago gotten over the embarrassment of needing to use KY Jelly whenever Sean wanted to relieve himself. She’d never really had any moisture of her own. She knew from reading women’s magazines that the heat of the moment was supposed to drench her down there, but that never happened with Sean. It was just in and out. Yet she couldn’t blame him completely. She’d never even learned to bring herself “to climax,” whatever that meant. When Sean finally said he was leaving her because their “relationship has no passion,” she couldn’t even cry. Deep down, she knew it was true.

On the next shelf, she found dozens of vibrators in every shape, size and color. Some even had second extensions in the shapes of cute little animals with outstretched tongues. She imagined where the main part went in, but what was the little figurine supposed to tickle? The idea of sticking something cold and plastic inside her caused a slight shutter. The last thing she needed was a fake penis. She’d already had a real one to use anytime she wanted, and it hadn’t done anything for her.

“Barbara!” Diane shouted from the counter at the back of the room. “I found the perfect thing for you!”

Barbara cringed as she crept over. “I wish you wouldn’t use my real name,” she whispered.

“Oh, hell. There’s nothing to be ashamed of here,” Diane moaned. “I want you to meet someone. This is Susie.”

“Hi!” The pretty brunette salesclerk had a big white smile and the energy of a high school cheerleader. “I just heard this is your first time at Good Vibes!”

“Well, uh, yes, I…”

“Welcome! I know all of this can be a little intimidating at first, but we are here to help! As I always like to say: come one, come all!”

Barbara crunched her nose.

“Don’t be like that,” Joan chided. “Susie, show her what we’ve picked out for her.”

“Picked out for me?”

“No complaints,” Diane looked serious. “This is our treat. You deserve this and we won’t take no for an answer.”

“Yay! Girl power!” Susie cheered. From behind the counter, she brought up a small ornate red box. Barbara noticed the container was covered in strange symbols and foreign language she couldn’t read.

“These come from ancient times,” Susie said, now speaking like a mystic. “No one knows who first discovered these, and their magical powers remain mysterious. They have seduced women for centuries. Wah-lah!”

Susie unhitched the tiny latch on the box and opened the lid.

Barbara studied the contents. Beautiful, she thought. But how in the world would this ever help her?

“I remember my first time,” Joan grinned. “I have to say, I envy you.”

“Damn right!” said Diane.

***

The girls insisted that if Barbara was to be a new woman there was no sense waiting another night. They were going to hit the town. Tonight! They were taking her to the hottest dance club in The City – 1015 Folsom in the SoMa warehouse district.

She’d never been anywhere so trendy with Sean. He liked to stay at home and watch TV, which was fine with her. The few times they’d walked over to the bars near Union Street she found the places too crowded and the women pushy.

Thank God she’d met Diane and Joan through work at the PR firm. When Sean said he was moving out, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She had moved to San Francisco with Sean and had no idea how to meet men, even if she wanted to. Now the girls were bringing her out to a place sure to be swarming with handsome men. She knew it was silly to get her hopes up about meeting Mr. Right on her first adventure into the singles scene, but at least she’d have some fun.

On the way home from Good Vibes they’d hatched the plan. They stopped at a boutique on 16^th Street where the women talked her into buying a pair of black leather pants. Leather pants? Her? It was the last thing a J. Crew catalog shopper like her would ever buy, which is exactly why she did. Maybe it was the spirit of adventure spun up by what Susie showed her in that little box.

When Susie described how it all worked, Barbara felt a little light headed with shame. Not Susie. The girl was so nonchalant in the way she instructed with the most intimate detail exactly what to do. When she finished her counter side seminar, Barbara was a bit short of breath and thought she might actually feel some of that moisture she’d read about.

Barbara slipped on the leather pants and looked at them in her full-length bedroom mirror. They were a stunning contrast to her blonde hair. Should she wear it up? Or just leave the loose long curls? She played with the style for a few moments. Down and loose was very sexy. Up and tightly pulled back made her look like a kinky schoolmarm – some weird S&M fetish! She didn’t want anyone to get that impression! She’d wear her hair down. A silk print top would be the perfect finishing touch.

Yet something didn’t look quite right. Joan and Diane assured her she had the type of slim fit figure that would be flattered by the pants. Still, it looked wrong. Was that a crease? She stepped closer to the mirror and noticed how her behind was perfectly outlined. Her panties. The leather was so creamy and thin that the stitching on her underwear showed through. The effect of the pants was ruined. Suddenly she felt like a little girl trying to play dress up. These clothes belonged to a sexy woman, and deep down she was still just a stupid, inexperience child. Who was she trying to fool?

Damn! Not tonight! Sean was over. Finished. It was time to move on. Diane and Joan were right. She had to put herself back out there, and she wasn’t going to let some panty line ruin her evening. She slipped off the leather pants then peeled off her panties and flung them into the corner. No undies tonight!

She looked at her naked body in the mirror. Was this what men desired? The place hidden just below that little tuft of hair? She’d heard it referred to as the center of the universe, but it had never been that way for her. It was just there. Sean called it beautiful, but it seemed ugly to her. Perhaps if it made her feel the way other women said theirs made them feel – a climax – maybe then she’d see things differently. She studied it in the mirror. Have you betrayed me? Are you a cold thing never to give me the pleasure that other women get from theirs? Why won’t you work for me?

In the reflection she spotted her desk in the corner of her eye. There sat the little red box. The one Diana, Joan and Susie promised would finally change her from a girl into a woman.

Did she dare?

***

“Well, you’re certainly in a good mood tonight,” Joan said. “I mean, you’re positively glowing!”

“Am I?” Barbara swooned. “Must be the drinks.”

“You’ve only had half of a white wine spritzer,” Diane pointed out.

“Hmmmmmm,” was all Barbara could say in response. The lights of the club were mesmerizing. 1015 Folsom was all she’d imagined it would be. It was so full of energy. Sexual energy. The passing of each young handsome man seemed to make her twitch in pleasure. The smell of sweat from one guy fresh off the dance floor literally caused her to moan aloud.

“Are you okay?” Joan looked concerned. “Are you on drugs?”

“No,” beamed Barbara. “No drugs. It’s just…I’m having…an awakening.”

“Let’s dance,” Diane said as she grabbed their hands and pulled them toward the center of the room.

With each step, Barbara felt the sensation, the pull of pleasure. It had been that way ever since she opened the little red box. She’d followed Susie’s instructions precisely. Susie warned that even the slightest movement by Barbara would bring feelings. The more she moved, the greater the joy. It was possible she could stir herself into a climax. Even a multiple orgasm.

On the dance floor, the music pulsed in Barbara’s ears. The rhythm and vibrations from the loud thumping created a trickle of tingling that tiptoed from her breasts downward. The feeling traipsed over her bellybutton and continued. This is it! This is it! It’s finally happening! The sensation became more intense, now seeming to come from everywhere. A surge overtook her entire body. Barbara opened her eyes wide, she inhaled a short series of breaths, then…ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

She clutched the shoulders of both Diane and Joan for support. There was such an intense feeling of release she thought she might collapse right there. What felt like years of confinement and oppression rushed out of her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Joan leaned over and shouted into Barbara’s ear. Through the haze of rapture and the loud music, Joan’s yelling only came through as a dainty whisper.

“Nothing,” Barbara grinned. “Nothing at all.”

She’d never felt so relaxed. She let the music devour her, moving her arms and legs in a completely uninhibited sway. At long last, she felt free. It was finally time to just let go!

She felt moisture between her legs. A drip. Who cares? Let the whole world see what I can now do, she thought.

Then something more than moisture. Larger. It rolled down the inseam of the right leg of her black leather pants. Then another in the left leg. She looked down. The Ben Wa Balls from the little red box! Susie at Good Vibes said that when placed inside the vagina they’d roll around and bring joy. She never said they might fall out. Not here! Not now!

Out the cuff of Barbara’s pant leg came one of the shiny metal balls. Then the other. They sped onto the dance floor and rolled into the crowd.

Oh, no!

Barbara lost sight of the balls, but watched as a path of chaos ripped into the dancers. One by one, they slipped and fell. Men, women. No one could escape the wrath. The same as the other ball went the other way. A tornado of tumbling, then the look of terror on faces. Dozens of people were collapsing, then panic and screaming enveloped the entire room.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Joan yelled and seized Barbara’s wrist.

“Damn right!” Diana screamed.

***

The ball rolled away from the detective after he gave it the slightest nudge. Oh, hell! Was it going to explode?

He sighed with relief when nothing happened. The ball just stopped. What type of evil mastermind thought up these things? A crowded dance club in a world famous city. They were ripe for this type of attack. He was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Goddamn Arabs.

He sniffed his fingers again. He knew that smell. It was so familiar. What was it? He’d get trace to analyze the remnants on his glove. Those gals in the lab are smart. They’ll know.

Kemble Scott is an editor at SoMa Literary Review. He’s the author of the new bestselling novel SoMa from Kensington Books.