The Truth (continued)
 


        We took the tube to Elephant and Castle.  Though it had
already been more than half an hour since the drink, I hadn't
felt anything yet.  I told this to Russell, and he laughed.  "It
takes a while.  It'll probably hit you in the club."
	We were going to a place called Adrenaline VillagE.  I
had been to it before, it was an abandoned warehouse that had
been converted by particularly creative promoters into a sort of
entertainment-cum-dance club.  Inside there were swimming pools;
table tennis; private rooms equipped with VCRs and televisions. 
There were also random fun things like a huge trampoline, a game
arcade, a caf�.  It mostly attracted a mid-thirties crowd;
clubbers who wanted to take it a little easier.
	By the time we got there, the line of waiting guests
trailed a block's length.  But that wasn't a problem; Russell
was quite a regular and we were picked out almost immediately.
	It was crowded for a Wednesday.  As we entered the main
floor, spot lights picked their way through a fluttering mass of
sweaty frames.  The music was loud and energizing, a beat that
was very danceable, but dreamy at the same time.  Russell wanted
a beer and we made our way to the nearest bar.  I was a little
surprised when he pushed a small bottle of water into my hand,
but then remembered how the druggies always carried something to
drink.  A song that I liked came on and I found myself a spot on
the floor.  I had been dancing only a few minutes when I started
to get a light feeling; the kind of sensation that normally
comes after several hours of exercise.  It made me want to keep
moving, made me want the song to last longer.
	Russell stood by my side for a bit, nodding to friends;
exchanging words here and there.  He had what seemed to be a
quizzically amused look on his face.  "I'm going to the pool, he
mouthed coming up to me.  I'll be back."  I nodded my head.
	I had danced a few songs before noticing the laser
show.  Intricate figures and pictures were being projected onto
the living canvas of the crowd.  It was difficult to see the
images from up close; on yourself, but if you watched carefully
enough, you could follow patterns all over the room.  There was
a brilliantly colored peacock making its way around; presently
it rested its plumed head on a man that clutching his elbows,
skipped frenziedly.  There was a hologram of a full rainbow with
a pill box at the end - the box covering what seemed to be an
amorphously twined couple.  I discovered rapidly flashing
pictures that may have been in serial, but there was no
guarantee that one was seeing them in the correct order, left to
right; center to periphery.  There was even no guarantee that
one could track all the pictures; that they were being projected
at a speed slow enough to decipher.
	I guess that was when I must have started to "peak", as
true acid terminology would put it.  Because the next thing I
knew was that I was staring about me while the club changed
shapes.  What I thought had been a circular room was now a
perfect square; then a trapezoid with clipped edges.  Lines
began to blur, ceasing to be fixed edges that separated things,
becoming snaky areas of spills, gradations and shadows.  The
walls warped themselves insanely, and what was earlier a smooth
cream colored surface was now specked with grains of color
brushed off from clothing, human sweat and heat.  Textures
appeared in zoom, I felt like I was in a giant block of Ricotta
cheese; complete with holes and inner labyrinths.  I put my
finger to one such hole but it closed with a green zap.  And I
realized that not everything was going to be accessible.
	But there was still so much to see.  So much was new
exciting, causing my heart to pound fast, faster.  A gray-haired
man with a pacifier in his mouth passed me.  He clutched a teddy-
bear.  The ground rustled.  That could have been partly true
though, I mean the music was really loud, but then I distinctly
sensed little pins push up under my feet.  And suddenly I was in
the air, in a corner of the ceiling staring down at myself.  I
watched myself, feet stomping; hands swaying; I looked absurdly 
serious.  I started to laugh, and as I threw my hands in the air
with the thrill of it all I found myself back in myself.  A
giant ladybug materialized in front of me, wings flapping
refreshingly in my face.  I reached out wanting needing to touch
it and feel the smoothness of its metallic red.  But it
disappeared and I felt my smiling face collapse in folds of
disappointment. The most powerful emotions were washing over me 
in seconds and almost instantly I started to wonder if the ladybug 
had just been my imagination; a meeting point of different colors,
or a real projection.
	The music was getting louder, much too loud actually. 
But I began to like it that way, and as I moved to it I became
part of it, wading slowly through it.  It was as if the music
had liquefied itself and spread through the room, allowing one
to coolly soak it through the skin.  For the first time I heard
a drum solo that had escaped me before; the soft slapping of
hands on leather.  I imagined someone sitting in the corner of a
recording studio, playing to himself, not really bothered with
whether his was an audible groove, a dominant beat, but playing
for those that cared enough to listen closely.  And I loved the
idea of that, it changed the song for me creating a new one in
place of the old. 
	Russell was there again, smiling, filling the space he
might have never really left as far as I was concerned.  He
winked at me, "Having fun yet?"  Overflowing with happiness,
all I could do was hug him.  And then it struck me that I knew
what he had been talking about earlier; that things must look
very different to different people.  But as surely as there was
difference, I knew there must be overlaps; that I wasn't the
only one that had heard the percussionist, or was I?















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