Leavitt Stafford and the Awful, Terrible, Not Very Nice Plan.

Chapter the Twentieth: The Opera

As Marigold sat within her cabriolet, crossing her legs in what she dearly hoped appeared to be a ladylike fashion, Leavitt began to muse over the discussion which he had partaken in with John's coworker with regards to John's homosexuality. Leavitt had indeed known that John was a homosexual ever since he was but a child, for why else would he have displayed such a profound disinterest in the fairer sex whilst gazing upon men for moments too long, and only men, in such a manner? At last, after many childhood years of waiting for the proof of his brother's homosexuality which would at last result in his downfall, he was on the cusp of uncovering the most overt of evidence!

The burly man had informed Leavitt that the redheaded Scotsman beside John, who was named Clarence, had been behaving as though John was his secret lover, and that he had even gone so far as to call him his lover boy! And not only was this the case, but Clarence's more covertly homosexual gestures would cause John to blush as though he bore the innocent pash of a child! The man who had pulled him aside in order to inform him of such shocking occurrences had told Leavitt that it was only a matter of time before he caught the two men kissing! Oh, Leavitt wished to clap his hands with glee!

Leavitt, after the conversation, had thought to himself that he should perhaps begin his journeys towards work earlier so as to attempt to spy John and Clarence, and to catch them committing acts of homosexuality. That morning, he had indeed tried to spy the men for a few additional moments before he had to dash, though he hadn't spied John and Clarence again at all, let alone John and Clarence committing such heinous acts. The bloody men must have hidden from him! This truly did demonstrate how little God concerned Himself with the sins of humanity!

Leavitt would continue attempting to spy his brother kissing the Scottish homosexual, and then he would humiliate him! That would teach him not to commit acts of homosexuality! But how could Leavitt form plausible excuses so as to avoid arousing the suspicion of Marjorie? Did he even require an excuse? It was indeed unacceptable to spy on others, but Leavitt's spying was surely for the greater good?

Of course, that is nonsense, for Leavitt only wished to spy on John so as to bring similar suffering upon him as he himself had suffered.

Leavitt realised that, should Clarence continue his homosexual behaviour, it would surely not be long before John was caught, and so it was not necessary that he catch him... though he wished to experience the purest of schadenfreude as he caught him, and to watch as fright spread across his pathetic countenance. Leavitt had been cast aside and humiliated due to the existence of John too many times as a child, so it was only fair that John should receive the appropriate level of retribution, was it not?

Marigold descended from the cabriolet, hoisting her skirts upwards so as to avoid soaking them in the puddles. Leavitt, in all the haste of his work life, had forgotten to scrub the blood stain away, though it was at least rather fortunate that the manifold layers of petticoats had prevented the blood from being visible to any who decided to observe Marigold. Above the houses, the clouds in the sky acquired the magical magenta, crimson, orange, and indigo tinges of a most magical sunset, plunging the buildings below into silhouettes which contrasted with them in a manner so stunning that one would wish for the sight beheld to never end.

Marigold rushed through the evening crowds, her heels tottering dangerously and threatening to plunge her beneath the hooves of the horses, who believed Leavitt to be so dreadfully foolish for what he would begin that night. Halfway across the street, gazing upon the persons who thronged about with its eyes of distinguished wisdom, was the opera hall.

As Marigold approached the opera hall, she almost crashed into a lamplighter who was doing his rounds, though, in the true fashion of Marigold, she, rather than apologising to the poor fellow, loudly chastised him for having wandered into her tumultuous path. Having succeeded in bringing the lamplighter to a profound rage, she proceeded to ignore his bellowing, and she barged through the queue, barking that she hadn't the whole night to wait.