A Study in Repetition
Allegretto, in Lacrimony
Miss Rutherford is a wallflower. Jim Scott is an innocent, just out of jail. John Schaffer is a doorknob, a blunt knife and an ugly face.
This is the story of how for a brief time their unfortunate lives were slimily entwined.
The young Miss Rutherford had a large, abandoned house on a high hill, overlooking the good edge of town. She lived there alone with a pianoforte and a cold cup of tea-leaves.
Jim Scott was fresh on the streets and knew not a soul. John Schaffer was a lecherous wolf in need of assisting.
Jim Scott had no gold and slept in a ditch. It was there that John Schaffer found him one normal May morning, and it was there that he proposed to him the job of devious thievering.
It was Jim Scott to be pleased to accept, and so the John Schaffer filled him in on the young Miss Rutherford, her abandoned house, her pianoforte and her cup of tea-leaves.
"She's got all this and more, ya hear?" John Schaffer announced in a jarring jangle of knotted nerve endings and unwashed whiskers.
Jim Scott thought he had the understanding, and said it. John Schaffer said, "Alright, kiddo, we'll do it up then, today after din."
Jim Scott said he was a short in the funds, and that, "Eats for me", looked to be off the menu. John Schaffer said, "That, kiddo, is tough shit for you.
" And he left him in his tracks and lamentations.
Later, when the sun had hid itself from the clear, cratered face of the moon, and after Jim Scott hadn't supped, John Schaffer gathered him up like a Spinnerette and brought him, in tow,
to the good side of town.
The young Miss Rutherford was at her window sill, as usual, brushing languidly her long, dark locks, watching the full moon rise and contemplating her contemplations.
Neither did she see, nor did she hear, the shadows crawling, thief-like, through the dark of her garden walls.
The first was John Schaffer, with a crow-bar in his teeth, aiming to smash the glass, and enter by force. Jim Scott was the second, and with passive persuasion.
"Look," said he, "let's first try the port-hole." It was an old, dark, oak door that opened with a creak, and the two thieves squeezed into intrusion.
From her high tower, the young Miss Rutherford heard a disturbance.
She ran with her brush to see of the matter and saw Jim Scott in the kitchen, near to the tea-leaves, and John Schaffer in the living room, eyeing the organ.
In that moment, the young Miss Rutherford, knew that something was off. She did what she did and she called up the cops, brushing cobwebs from the old, satin telephone box.
In the waiting thereafter she confronted the men. "Slay her," spoke Schaffer. "She knows oh-too-much."
"Nay", said Scott. "She's easy, you see? You can tell by the sign of her smile, and the way that it plays."
The young Miss Rutherford knew that life was uncertain, and that something was here, and so played the fool, to save her own skin; smiling wide, and offering up the tea-greens.
Luckily for the tea, the men fought til the bobs burst in, each fighting off the passions of the other.
Dim and benign, in groupings of threes, the lawgivers were numbered enough to drag off the dual, dueling, ne'er-do-wells, to the Halls of the Judging.
But the young Miss Rutherford, at that time, felt again, that thing, inside her, stir, for the man who had saved her.
She thought, mayhap, twas the spark she had hoped for.
"He belongs to me!" she screamed, to the sleek police force; cornered into impotence, only able to do away with the other, John Schaffer; beating him soundly about the head, because they could.
Jim Scott felt grateful to the young Ma'am, and looked deep, deep into the both of her eyes. But he knew, in his heart, he could never live up to her homesome ideals.
And so, in the morning, of the day after, Jim Scott, the unstolen thief, left forever the house of the young Ruther.
He went down the road of his Life, and never once gave a thought to giving a look back.
It was then nine months there later, that this young Mother, gave to the world her first and only other offspring and progeny.
And mayhap twas that twhich was all she'd ever wanted; in any case, and anyway.
They lived there together, in the House on the Hill, with the teacup and the tea-leaves and the pianoforte and the piano strings.
And maybe they're still there, inside that same house, and on that same hill; watching the same moon, and waiting for someone or something that will never ever, ever come to pass.