Scout's Monologue
larrythestapler
A/N: This originally started out as a school assignment, but I decided to post it anyway for fun. Enjoy, 'cause it may be quite simple, but now that it's done—never mind just read.
Disclaimer: No matter how awesome it is, I cannot claim credit for the most wonderful book in the world, To Kill a Mockingbird. I also do not own the lyrics to "Your Song" by Elton John.
Jean Louise Finch clumsily walked in the inched heels and bright, preppy dress. Her stubborn tomboyish attitude never truly left; she still felt uncomfortable about girly clothing and the strict confinements of society's gender roles. But she did gain one thing over the course of many years, and that sole thing was maturity. Her manners and simplistic retrospect on life changed, and that changed was stimulated by a series of events, one of which includes the Tom Robinson trial.
She took a seat next to Dill, ironically her fiancé; he had kept his promise to marry Jean Louise. Chuckles aside, he had grown. He did not look quite that runty and awful anymore, however. He grew quite tall, possibly taller than Jem himself. Looks aside, their rapport did not change; they still retained the childish rapport they once shared, but it advanced more sentimentally, and they found themselves a complaisant couple.
They both came to Maycomb's reunion dinner that night. Many lives were changed since the trial, but a sense of honor and solemnity still lit the room. In the background, light violin music played passionately as Bach played for his wife. A strained sense of formality gloated amongst the guests, but truth be told, many people were homelier then they thought they were. Although a conservative air hid its mediocrity, Maycomb's ambiance of tiredness and plainness never truly left.
Dill fidgeted in his seat. He glanced around the room to see a group of familiar faces. To his right, there was old Atticus, his face etched with age. The old lawyer took on the form of a wise elderly man, but the twinkle in his eyes never quite left. Next to Atticus sat Mr. Heck, a man of optimism who never seemed to be fazed by crime. But that was not saying much. Maycomb returned to being a peaceful town after the heated trial.
The young man snapped out of his wandering stated when a booming voice silenced the room. Toasts and proper words flowed out of mouths. Many speeches were awkward, but all spoke truth, except for a certain table engulfing in shameless hypocrisy. Many toasts were made out to Atticus's heroic failure. To that day, many still remembered his loyalty and tenacity to the situation. The old lawyer merely smiled and nodded in appreciation. He knew at heart that he was bound to be a servant of the law until the thread of his life was cut off, so he found no point in gloating or feeding his healthy ego.
Scout finally cleared her throat after her fiancé had toasted her. She began her long speech, though the speech was to an absent person, one who had greatly impacted her chain of thought. All eyes came upon the young woman, who spoke with a sense of pride and truth, lacking bashfulness and cowardly guts:
"Dull school days elongated my boredom, but it was summertime that provided my rite of passage and unveiled my innate character. Thick, musty summertime erased the thin line between seriousness and fun. Reckless daughter of Atticus Finch and naiveté sister of Jem, I am Jean Louise Finch, better known as Scout Finch.
When Dill came, a series of childish and solemn misadventures occurred. I noticed a change in character for everyone, though few were for the better, if I may add. But the most dramatic transformation was Jem's. Our rapport shrank in pettiness but grew in a deeper way. I miss jokes and childish fears, but I accept the situation now. I was a mere mockingbird when I encountered hypocrisy and hate, but my brother intended to help me. Cliché metaphors aside, a great deal of things and people were lost. Jem lost his youthfulness, but he gained insight and taught it to me. His moodiness bloomed into stronger integrity. And while the trial disposed an innocent life, it showed the truth and raised awareness. But Jem remained a teacher and a brother to me throughout the whole trial, despite of difficult obstacles. He deserves much appreciation, for without him, I never would have learned how to crawl into somebody else's skin…and walk in it.
Everyone faced a trial, not only Tom Robinson. I, myself, suffered from ignorance. But living with demeaning neighbors and hurtful words, I soon learned the awful disease of prejudice. My brother struggled, but redeemed himself to help me. Jem provided me with security and friendship. Silly memories come back, and I remember the time he foolishly feared my death when I chewed the stick of Wrigley gum. During the frigid night when Miss Maudie's porch burned down, my brother aimed to keep me safe and warm. And never, shall I forget the night, when our longest, most perilous journey began. Hate existed, but any meager amount of love could overcome anything.
I would like to toast Mr. Arthur Radley, for not only saving my life, but for courageously venturing alongside my brother and I on a journey of dignity. Although you are not here, thank you, Boo, now I know why Jem stopped me from hurting the roly-poly. It is never right, and never will it be, to kill a mockingbird."
Murmurs were cut short. Everyone froze for a moment, to absorb the amount of sentiment that the young woman had expelled. She raised her glass to the man that did more in silence then anyone with a gift for talking ever accomplished. A series of glass clinked to honor a legendary man of Maycomb.
Perhaps dull summer days have changed their meanings after all.
Fin.