Chiropodist v. Choreographer

The Chiropodist doesn't speak English. The Choreographer doesn't speak English. Neither speak English. And neither speak a common language.

While the Choreographer understands that the Chiropodist is in a state of shock, the cause of this shock isn't traced to the Chiropodist's witness of the Chimney Sweep's accidental death.

After several hours of nonverbal comforting on the part of the Choreographer (a kind if teutonically stiff woman), the Chiropodist wipes her eyes and begins to replay the scene. She speaks throughout, using exaggerated hand gestures, and frequent pointing - to reference the oak, the guns, the place of death, and the burial.

The Choreographer doesn't understand.

The Chiropodist stops and begins again. Then again, and again. And again. And again and again. She continues repeating the same sequence, each time slightly different - a slight turn of the hand, a slight shift in the series of events - but each time roughly identical. And again. And for the tenth time.

Still the Choreographer doesn't understand.

And for the fortieth time.

Still the Choreographer doesn't understand.

At some point the Chiropodist decides that nothing in gesture can make the Choreographer understand. And yet the Chiropodist continues. She replays the event over. Now with an almost a sickness of movement: a ritualized motion, a catechismic circularity, an oriental numeration. Again, again, again.

Still the Choreographer doesn't understand. And she grows bored. Oed' und leer das Meer, she sighs.

Eventually the Chiropodist hits on an idea. She stands, grabs her umbrella and takes the pistols. She hands her umbrella off to the Choreographer and leads her onto the field. Acting the role of the Chimney Sweep, the Chiropodist stands ten paces away and raises her gun. The Choreographer reflexively lowers the umbrella. The Chiropodist advances. She lifts the umbrella, and raises the Choreographer's arm. The Choreographer's pistol presses against the Chiropodist's chest.

Then the Choreographer understands.

Her gun goes off.

Chimney Sweep v. Chiropodist

Minutes after the Chief Mate falls, Pepple drags off his body. And then body of the Chief of Police. He takes the Chief's handgun and his badge, his wedding ring and the money in his front pocket. He takes a gold pendant tied on a leather cord around the Chief Mate's neck. Then he buries the two duelists. The Chimney Sweep watches.

Soon after, it begins to rain. It rains hard for a long time. Then softens, and continues raining softly all night.

The Chiropodist arrives beneath a yellow umbrella. She's a tiny woman. Very petite. Simply dressed, but spackled with cosmetics. She walks up to the Chimney Sweep and hands him a telegram. She does not speak English well.

Yes, says the Chimney Sweep.

She points to the telegram. Yes, he says. He points to the ground, then to the pistols, then to the dueling field. She looks confused. She looks at her telegram, then at the pistols, then at the dueling field.

The Chimney Sweep pantomimes a duel. (No help.)

Eventually, he leads her out to the field. She stands holding her yellow umbrella and a revolver. He stands ten paces away. He raises his gun. She lowers the umbrella over her face in fright. He walks over, lifts her umbrella, and raises her hand that holds the revolver. He points the revolver at his chest.

Her gun goes off.