When Boo Radley shuffled to his feet, light from the livingroom
windows glistened on his forehead. Every move he made was uncertain,
as if he were not sure his hands and feet could make proper contact with the things he touched. He coughed his dreadful raling cough, and was so shaken he had to sit down again. His hand searched for his hip pocket, and he pulled out a handkerchief. He coughed into it, then he wiped his forehead.
Having been so accustomed to his absence, I found it incredible that he had been sitting beside me all this time, present. He had not
made a sound.
Once more, he got to his feet. He turned to me and nodded toward the front door.
โYouโd like to say good night to Jem, wouldnโt you, Mr. Arthur? Come right in.โ
I led him down the hall. Aunt Alexandra was sitting by Jemโs bed.
โCome in, Arthur,โ she said. โHeโs still asleep. Dr. Reynolds gave him a heavy sedative. Jean Louise, is your father in the livingroom?โ
โYes maโam, I think so.โ
โIโll just go speak to him a minute. Dr. Reynolds left someโฆโ her voice trailed away.
Boo had drifted to a corner of the room, where he stood with his chin up, peering from a distance at Jem. I took him by the hand, a
hand surprisingly warm for its whiteness. I tugged him a little, and he allowed me to lead him to Jemโs bed.
Dr. Reynolds had made a tent-like arrangement over Jemโs arm, to keep the cover off, I guess, and Boo leaned forward and looked over it. An expression of timid curiosity was on his face, as though he had
never seen a boy before. His mouth was slightly open, and he looked at Jem from head to foot. Booโs hand came up, but he let it drop to his
side.
โYou can pet him, Mr. Arthur, heโs asleep. You couldnโt if he was awake, though, he wouldnโt let youโฆโ I found myself explaining. โGo ahead.โ
Booโs hand hovered over Jemโs head. โGo on, sir, heโs asleep.โ
His hand came down lightly on Jemโs hair.
I was beginning to learn his body English. His hand tightened on mine and he indicated that he wanted to leave.
I led him to the front porch, where his uneasy steps halted. He was still holding my hand and he gave no sign of letting me go. โWill you take me home?โ
He almost whispered it, in the voice of a child afraid of the dark.
I put my foot on the top step and stopped. I would lead him through our house, but I would never lead him home.
โMr. Arthur, bend your arm down here, like that. Thatโs right, sir.โ I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm.
He had to stoop a little to accommodate me, but if Miss Stephanie
Crawford was watching from her upstairs window, she would see Arthur
Radley escorting me down the sidewalk, as any gentleman would do. We came to the street light on the corner, and I wondered how many times Dill had stood there hugging the fat pole, watching, waiting,
hoping. I wondered how many times Jem and I had made this journey, but
I entered the Radley front gate for the second time in my life. Boo and I walked up the steps to the porch. His fingers found the front
doorknob. He gently released my hand, opened the door, went inside, and shut the door behind him. I never saw him again.
Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our
lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree
what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad.
I turned to go home. Street lights winked down the street all the way to town. I had never seen our neighborhood from this angle.
There were Miss Maudieโs, Miss Stephanieโs- there was our house, I could see the porch swing- Miss Rachelโs house was beyond us, plainly visible. I could even see Mrs. Duboseโs.
I looked behind me. To the left of the brown door was a long shuttered window. I walked to it, stood in front of it, and turned around. In daylight, I thought, you could see to the postoffice
corner.
Daylightโฆ in my mind, the night faded. It was daytime and the neighborhood was busy. Miss Stephanie Crawford crossed the street to tell the latest to Miss Rachel. Miss Maudie bent over her azaleas.
It was summertime, and two children scampered down the sidewalk toward
a man approaching in the distance. The man waved, and the children raced each other to him.
It was still summertime, and the children came closer. A boy trudged down the sidewalk dragging a fishingpole behind him. A man stood waiting with his hands on his hips. Summertime, and his children played in the front yard with their friend, enacting a strange
little drama of their own invention.
It was fall, and his children fought on the sidewalk in front of
Mrs. Duboseโs. The boy helped his sister to her feet, and they made their way home. Fall, and his children trotted to and fro around the
corner, the dayโs woes and triumphs on their faces. They stopped at an oak tree, delighted, puzzled, apprehensive.
Winter, and his children shivered at the front gate, silhouetted
against a blazing house. Winter, and a man walked into the street, dropped his glasses, and shot a dog.
Summer, and he watched his childrenโs heart break. Autumn again, and Booโs children needed him.
Atticus was right. One time he said you never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them. Just standing on the Radley porch was enough.
The street lights were fuzzy from the fine rain that was falling. As I made my way home, I felt very old, but when I looked at the tip of
my nose I could see fine misty beads, but looking cross-eyed made me dizzy so I quit. As I made my way home, I thought what a thing to tell Jem tomorrow. Heโd be so mad he missed it he wouldnโt speak to me
for days. As I made my way home, I thought Jem and I would get grown
but there wasnโt much else left for us to learn, except possibly
algebra.
I ran up the steps and into the house. Aunt Alexandra had gone to bed, and Atticusโs room was dark. I would see if Jem might be reviving. Atticus was in Jemโs room, sitting by his bed. He was reading a book.
โIs Jem awake yet?โ
โSleeping peacefully. He wonโt be awake until morning.โ โOh. Are you sittinโ up with him?โ
โJust for an hour or so. Go to bed, Scout. Youโve had a long day.โ โWell, I think Iโll stay with you for a while.โ
โSuit yourself,โ said Atticus. It must have been after midnight, and I was puzzled by his amiable acquiescence. He was shrewder than I, however: the moment I sat down I began to feel sleepy.
โWhatcha readinโ?โ I asked.
Atticus turned the book over. โSomething of Jemโs. Called The Gray Ghost.โ
I was suddenly awake. โWhyโd you get that one?โ
โHoney, I donโt know. Just picked it up. One of the few things I havenโt read,โ he said pointedly.
โRead it out loud, please, Atticus. Itโs real scary.โ
โNo,โ he said. โYouโve had enough scaring for a while. This is too-โ โAtticus, I wasnโt scared.โ
He raised his eyebrows, and I protested: โLeastways not till I
started telling Mr. Tate about it. Jem wasnโt scared. Asked him and he said he wasnโt. Besides, nothinโs real scary except in books.โ
Atticus opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again. He took his thumb from the middle of the book and turned back to the first page. I moved over and leaned my head against his knee.
โHโrm,โ he said. โThe Gray Ghost, by Seckatary Hawkins. Chapter Oneโฆโ
I willed myself to stay awake, but the rain was so soft and the room was so warm and his voice was so deep and his knee was so snug that I slept.
Seconds later, it seemed, his shoe was gently nudging my ribs. He
lifted me to my feet and walked me to my room. โHeard every word you
said,โ I muttered. โโฆwasnโt sleep at all, โs about a ship anโ Three-Fingered Fred โnโ Stonerโs Boy โ
He unhooked my overalls, leaned me against him, and pulled them off.
He held me up with one hand and reached for my pajamas with the other.
โYeah, anโ they all thought it was Stonerโs Boy messinโ up their clubhouse anโ throwinโ ink all over it anโโฆโ
He guided me to the bed and sat me down. He lifted my legs and put me under the cover.
โAnโ they chased him โnโ never could catch him โcause they didnโt know what he looked like, anโ Atticus, when they finally saw him, why he hadnโt done any of those thingsโฆ Atticus, he was real nice. โ
His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me.
โMost people are, Scout, when you finally see them.โ
He turned out the light and went into Jemโs room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.
THE END