Disclaimer: If all of these characters belonged to me, my life would be completely different! Harper Lee deserves all credit.
A/N: This is another thing inspired by Watchman. I know Lee said that Atticus was the one to find her, but what if things had gone a bit differently?
Jem had been the one to find her first. Although he happily trotted home from school in solitude, in the back of his mind he had the feeling that something might be wrong. Despite the fact that he was six-years-old and "mama's little man" he enjoyed the fact that each day after school she met him at the corner to walk him home.
Today she hadn't come.
It wasn't like her to lose track of time or to forget her daily ritual with her oldest child. He walked slowly, looking down the street to see if she was coming his way. Maybe baby is sick, he thought to himself, feeling a little silly that he still referred to his little sister as "baby".
But there was still no sight of mama. Jem tried to push any worries to the back of his mind, trying to convince himself that Jean Louise was fussy or sick and needed mama's attention.
As he got closer to the house, there was still no sign of mama anywhere. He waved to Miss Maudie, who was sitting on her own porch admiring the nice weather. "Have you seen my mama?" He called out to her, making her sit up straighter.
"Why, Jeremy I thought I just saw her a little while ago—maybe she went inside to tend to something." She responded. Jem nodded, but he knew his mama wouldn't forget to meet him at the corner.
As he climbed up the stairs of the porch, it didn't take him long to find her. The chair she was sitting in was still rocking, but instead of sitting on it she was collapsed on the floor. She was no longer visible due to the large, shady bushes that surrounded the porch. Jem let out a little gasp. He knew mama had been telling Atticus how tired she was feeling lately, but he didn't think it was that bad.
"Mama," he whispered, inching closer to his mother's still body. "Mama, wake up."
He moved a lock of her hair out of her face but her eyes remained closed. "Mama," he said a little louder, hoping that maybe this would wake her.
From inside he heard Jean Louise making noises from the play pen she took her naps in. Jem knew that Cal had probably just gone home a few minutes ago, so no one was inside to tend to the baby. When mama didn't wake up to that, he began to worry. Mama always knew when Jean Louise needed her. "Mama," he said, he felt like he was nearly shouting. He put his hands on her shoulders and nudged softly.
Nothing.
The breath got caught in his throat as Jean Louise began to whine. Maybe she was just playing a joke, he thought. Mama always pretended to be asleep on the couch and whenever Jem or his sister would approach her, she would wait until they were just close enough so she could grab them close and tickle them. But, his face was nearly pressed against her and yet she wasn't embracing him like she usually did.
"Jem, honey," he heard Miss Maudie call. She sounded like she was getting closer. "Jem, what's going on up there?"
He opened his mouth to answer her, but he found that all he could do was gasp in response. "Jem," she called again. "I see your daddy comin' up the street!" He didn't know if she was trying to warn him (Jem was infamous for sneaking around the porch and doing things he wasn't supposed to), or if she knew something was wrong that only Atticus could fix.
Jem expected mama to jump up at the news that Atticus was coming home, but she still remained motionless. Maybe she was trying to fool him, too. He knew that he should run to his father and tell him something was wrong, but he just felt so heavy he could barely move. So, he remained there, his face pressed against mama's, hoping that she would wake up soon.
"Jem, son," he heard his father say as he got closer to the house. "How was –"
Atticus went silent and that's how Jem knew he was now on the porch. Jean Louise was now sobbing, but Jem couldn't pay any attention to her. "Son," he said softly, swallowing. "Go inside."
Jem couldn't move. "Maudie," Atticus called frantically. "Maudie I need you to call Dr. Reynolds or an ambulance, now!"
If Maudie asked anything, Jem didn't hear it, and all he heard was her door slam as she hurried inside. Jem was breathing heavily now, unable to remove himself from mama. "Baby," his father's hand was now on his back and even though he couldn't see him, he knew that Atticus was crouching beside him. He sounded sad. Was he crying? "I need you to go inside and watch your sister. I know you're going to have a lot of questions but I just need you to stay inside, alright?"
"Mama," he muttered, closing his eyes tightly.
Atticus inhaled deeply as Maudie's door slammed again. This time, Jem could hear her running towards them. "I called," she gasped as she got a full view of the porch. "Oh…"
"I need you to watch the children," Atticus' voice sounded hoarse. But what about mama?
"Of course."
"Honey, I need you to get up."
Before he knew it, he found himself being lifted up. Quickly, he buried his face in his father's shoulder. Atticus felt different, he felt stiff. He didn't want to leave mama, he wanted to be there when she woke up and show her that her little man was always by her side.
Jean Louise's cries turned into babbles the moment Atticus walked in with Jem. Although his eyes were still clenched tightly, he could hear Miss Maudie following behind them. Atticus kissed his sons head before he whispered: "I need you to watch after your sister for a short while, okay?" Gently, he placed Jem down on the sofa. Before he went outside again, he patted Jean Louise's head. She began to cry again once her father left the house. Maudie tried to calm the toddler as Jem heard voices coming from outside.
"Mr. Finch," a man said. "We are going to take her to the hospital to determine cause of death. I'm not sure how long it will take, but you're welcome to come with us if it gives you peace of mind."
Jem buried his face into the couch cushion, and Maudie placed her hand on the back of his neck. In her arms, the baby was babbling and cooing and Jem was angry at her for being so happy.
"Jem, honey, are you hungry? Cal probably left some supper for you all." Maudie asked, her voice thick.
"No, ma'am."
"Are you sure? You're going to need to eat sometime."
"No, thank you." Despite his anger, he must always be polite. Mama said he must be a gentleman no matter what was on his mind.
Eventually, Jem sat up and rubbed his eyes and slowly looked around the room. Jean Louise was back in her playpen, laying on her stomach about to fall asleep. Jem wanted to shake her—didn't she know something was wrong with mama?! He wondered if mama and Atticus would come through to door at any second, and mama would scoop him and baby in her arms and everything would be normal.
But Miss Maudie was sitting beside him crying softly. That scared Jem because he didn't think that Miss Maudie was the type to cry. "Why are you cryin'?" He asked, his voice not sounding like his own.
"Oh sweetheart," She said softly, trying to hug him. He felt like if he let her hug him, something would definitely be wrong and he surely didn't want that to happen. She inhaled, picking up Atticus' paper from the coffee table. She opened it and began reading it aloud to the children, like Atticus did sometimes. Although it wasn't the same, Jem didn't say anything. At least she wasn't crying anymore.
Maudie read the paper until the sun went down and everything went dark, and only stopped for a few moments to feed Jean Louise and change her in her pajamas. "Honey," she called out to him. "I think you should eat a few bites at least."
He remained on the sofa. "No thank you."
"Alright, honey." Maudie said as she came back into the living room. "I'm going to put your sister down for bed and I'll be right back out."
Usually, once mama tucked the baby into bed for the evening, Jem would get himself ready and Atticus would read to him until mama came to tuck him in. However, he was still in his school clothes and sitting in the living room. He never tested his parent's limits when it came to his bedtime, but a part of him was afraid that they'd be mad if they came home and saw him like this. Nothing was right.
Yet, he didn't move.
Maudie came back and started reading from the paper again. Usually, once Atticus had read from most of the paper, he and mama would make up their own story for him. Sometimes, Atticus would narrate the story while mama acted out the scenes for him and baby. It was Jem's most favorite thing, and yet he couldn't remember the last story they told him. As Miss Maudie continued to read a story about some sort of strike, Jem closed his eyes once again.
He couldn't remember falling asleep on the couch, but he found himself waking up to Atticus talking to Miss Maudie. Where was mama?
"A heart attack," Atticus said, he sounded as though he was far away. "It apparently ran in her family."
Miss Maudie sniffed in response. "I came home early because she wasn't feeling well this morning," Atticus continued. "She couldn't pick up Jean Louise without getting out of breath. I wasn't going to go to work so she could get checked out, but she insisted she was just tired. If I had just stayed…"
"Honey, I'm so sorry." Maudie whispered grimly. "Is there anything—"
"I'm fine," Atticus said. Jem opened his eyes and saw that his father was wringing his hands. Had he been crying too? It couldn't be, Atticus never cried. "I'm going to put Jem to bed and I'll handle everything else in the morning."
"I'm going to call on my sister tomorrow to come and help out," Atticus added quickly before Maudie could say anything else. Jem closed his eyes again and pretended to sleep.
"Alright, Atticus." Maudie said as she gently hugged her neighbor. "If you need anything, I'm just across the street."
"I'll be fine," he said. "But thank you."
Jem kept his eyes shut as he heard the door shut behind Maudie. After Maudie left, Atticus lifted Jem off of the couch and began to carry him to his room. Jem opened his eyes and looked up at his father. He had definitely been crying, which made Jem want to cry.
"Sorry I woke you up,"
"Where's mama?"
Atticus put Jem down on his bed, but he quickly slid off of it to put on his pajamas. His father remained sitting on the foot of his bed. "Honey," Atticus said slowly as he took his glasses off and wiped his eyes. "Mama got very sick very quickly."
Jem crawled back into his bed and rested his head in his father's lap. "When will she come home?" He asked, thinking about mama being alone and sick. She was probably scared.
Atticus was crying again. He put his glasses back on and held his son in a loose hug. "Mama isn't coming home, baby." He sounded so sad, and Jem begin to cry. "Mama's heart…mama's heart stopped working."
Stopped working? But how? Wasn't it just yesterday that mama was dancing around and playing with him and Jean Louise? She had seemed perfectly fine then. Jem buried his face in his father's lap and cried harder. He felt Atticus' hand rest on his head. "But why?" He asked through his tears.
"I've been asking myself that all day, honey."
"I want mama," He cried, and almost immediately he felt bad for Atticus.
"I do, too."
"What are we going to do?" Jem almost sounded desperate. Everything almost seemed smoother with mama. Why, he wasn't sure how well Atticus would get along without her. She was always making sure he didn't work too late, that his clothes were ready each day, and she did so many things for all of them that Jem couldn't even think to list at that moment.
"We'll get along as usual." It scared Jem that Atticus sounded scared. "Cal will probably have to work longer days, but we'll make sure we get along smoothly. For mama."
Jem sniffed. Atticus ruffled his hair lightly. "Are you tired?" He asked.
"No, sir."
"I'll stay in here with you tonight. We can read as many books as you want." His father responded, before quickly adding: "Only if you want."
"Yes, please."
Atticus rose from his son's bed as Jem rested his head on his pillow. Shortly after, Atticus returned with a short stack of books to read. He sat next to his son, holding one of the books in his lap but not opening it. However, instead of reading the father and son sat together, silently mourning their loss.