The September Outcome

Chapter 1: Genesis

 Dwight Mathers returned to his house at three o'clock in the morning that day. The taxi took him from Karricole Falls Gentlemen's Club, up the hills, through the estates and down the wealthy driveway and to the rich mansion known as Grable Manor that stood before him. It was a cold, September night, on the 15th the year 1952 in Karricole Falls, Maine, New England.
 
The day was Sunday. He looked outside the window, cautiously, taking into account the rain. He gave the driver twenty dollars and stepped out. It was pouring heavily now, and Dwight stood there as the car drove away and the cold raindrops began to smother him and his clothes. He rushed for the door.

 Dwight was a tall, starkly man with thick, wavy uncontrollable black hair. He was thirty years old, but looked about forty. His face was rough, course but undeniably handsome. He had deep set brown eyes, a short nose and small lips. His face was stubbly and stern. He wore a soft, blue overcoat a pair of black trousers and a buttoned up white shirt. A red tie hung from around his slim neck. He had a small chest and a flat stomach with thin legs.

 The overbearing mansion house greeted him as he walked up. The building was a melancholy white colour that looked good in the sunlight. The two storey building, was designed similarly the Greek temples, like the Parthenon. His house had stone, white pillars supporting the front, with a tiled porch. There was a small bench located by the door, and some exotic plants focused around the front. The entire mansion's exterior, had majestic designs running along and over it. The entire sides were much the same as the front. The back was a large stone, tiled patio that faced beds of about twenty different types of ravishing flowers. Dwight was particularly fond of the lilies and hibiscuses.

 He rummaged through the pocket of his outlandish dark blue suit. No keys. He checked his trousers, but nothing. He stamped his foot in anger and regret. He must have left his keys inside or at the club.

''Oh goddammit!''

 All the back doors were closed by the staff and no windows. There was no way in. Other than awaking the beast who was probably asleep. Goddamn, if he woke her she would be warm and welcoming before attacking him and forcing him to confess that he had been at the club. She had no knowledge of the place until she read of it in one of her magazines. 

 Dwight planned to slip out after they went to bed and once she fell asleep, go to the club, get a few drinks, mingle a little and be back as if he'd never left. Regrettably, he left the house keys at home so he would have to ring the bell and wake her. He started to lament on whether he should have stayed at home. But the club had just been so tempting.

 It had been a manic night at the gentlemen's club which was business as usual. The Karricole Falls club had been in its usual Friday night state which stank of cigars and leather. The lingering stench would take any man aback. Dwight remembered the joint's air of charm and sophistication but at the same time naughty atmosphere. The club was men only and was steered for horny males in aid of an escape from their so called ball and chain, which was certainly the service it delivered. All night, every night, business men, mayors, lawyers came to this club which provided them with the indulgence of liquor, tobacco, dancers and escorts, and a good time.

 The joint opened with a marble floor and polished red swirly patterned walls. The place was renovated a three storey house. The first thing was a bar where three men produced drinks at a phenomenal rate. Then there was the back room, where guys could have a fag or two. Upstairs, there was a catwalk where the female entertainment performed and there was a dance floor below the stage. The girls would sometimes jump down and swing their arms around whichever gentlemen looked the most opulent. And on the third floor were three 'Private Rooms', with velvet and leather sofas for certain men with company. Not that he associated himself with these.