All characters and some plot points belong to Harper Lee...Scouts POV
Rated M.. i don't know what i want to happen yet.. so to be safe...
"Atticus?"
"What, hun?"
"How old were you when you got married?"
"Oh, around 35."
"Thats how old walter Cunninghams daddy is now!"
"Well, i started out late."
"I know it." Jem had come in from his room, hearing me and Atticus's conversation.
"Jem," Atticus started in his deep voice, like he hadn't been talking in a while "Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed?"
"My reading lights burnt out." Jem said leaning in the doorway between our rooms.
Atticus eyes fell but his eyebrows rose. They had a funny way of doing that. He sighed staring at his lap and then put his hands on his thighs by his knees and started to stand up.
"I'll fix it in a minute, son. Go rinse your teeth."
jem nodded and left, turning on his heels, a known skill he aquired from a life spent stepping on hardwood flooring.
" Scout, i think its time for bed."
"Oh, but i wanted to keep readin'." We always kept on readin for a good half an hour.
"i know scout, but i think we started too late tonight." He seemed to have a knack for doing that.
"alright?"he asked.
"Alright." I answered a little disappointed.
He took the book from my hands and put it on the nightstand next to the bed.
He leaned down over me his hand in a fist against the mattress. He kissed me on the forehead and I hugged him around the neck. I could feel the soft hairs by his starched collar with my finger tips. I wondered how many had already gone grey.
I first noticed my fathers age on a car ride coming back from the landing. The sun was starting to fall in the sky, but to my memory it was unnaturally silent. I could hear the rumble of the car on the gravel and Jem's light snoring, but thats it. No Birds. Hardly any other cars. I remembered sleepily looking over to Atticus who was looking straight ahead. His eyes were shiny because of the setting sun.I could also see, glistening in the magnificent orange, small silver hairs on the back of his neck. He was silent that whole ride home. I didn't bother him none,I knew he was frustrated with Aunt Alexandra. Normally Atticus could deal with her constant judgements, that is, except when she insulted his children. I didn't hear exactly what she said, but i knew it was about me. Francis and I had gotten into a fight and i ran after him, but he went into the house and told Auntie something about me beating him, and she believed him as always even though there waddn't a darn scratch on 'em. When Auntie was done listening to Francis he stormed into the living room where Uncle jack and Atticus where in deep conversation about the Alabama state legislature. She started by saying something about his "wild daughter" which is when Uncle Jack ushered me out of the room. Jem who was present for this spectacle said that Atticus came close to raising his voice at least three times, which almost never happened. That day, we left before dessert.
Atticus tucked me in, turned off the light, and walked across the floor (not avoiding the loose floorboard that squeaked under his weight) to the door.
"Good night, Atticus."
"Good night, Scout."
I listened as my father walked from the door to Jem's adjoining room, a few paces from mine. Then there was silence. Then more footsteps , these ones passed my room into what I assume, must have been the supply cupboard near the kitchen. Why, yes, it was, for I could hear the faint 'Click-Clink' of the dangling metal chain as its pulled from the light, and jumps back up to hit it.
Silence.
Step, step.
Click-Clink.
Atticus walked passed my room a second time.
"Jem, unplug the lamp please. DON'T touch that now, its hot."
"Yessir."
More silence.
"Please hand me my handkerchief Jem. Jem?Ahh!" Atticus yelled softly (if that makes sense) followed by the faint crack of glass breaking on what I only assumed was the floor.
"OH! I'm sorry! Atticus?"
I heard Atticus whisper something, but it was too quiet to tell what exactly it was.
He probably didn't want me to hear what he said anyway.
"Thats quite alright Jem, just, get on the bed and don't get off, 'hear?" When he got flustered, Atticus's tone seemed to get more southern.
"Yessir." Jem replied.
Atticus walked past my room a third time, into the cupboard, accompanied by the 'click-clink' and then more footsteps outside my door intent on their journey down the hall for the fourth time.
"It be a lot easier if we had light, to see where I'm sweeping." Atticus said a little louder then his last inaudible grumble.
I enjoyed entertaining the thought of Atticus Sweeping the floor. Except in my imagination, He was dressed like cal, apron and all.
"Can i help?"
"No jem, i don't want you getting glass in your foot. You might hand me that waste paper basket though. Thank you."
There was relative silence, that is except for the light scratch of the brooms thick fibers against the hardwood.
"well then," it was Atticus speaking, just as the scratches stopped, "i think i've got most of the pieces. It should be alright"
"Thanks Atticus, i'm really sorry again. I didn't mean to-"
"I've already told you, its quite alright Jem. We'll get you a new bulb in the morning"
Then atticus said something blurred about for him to get in bed and a goodnight but i was fading out of the room. My eyes felt heavy. It hurt them to be open. I opened them and closed them a few times to make sure the room was still around me, and then i felt as though i slipped, gracefully away...
Kind of short.. Ok, REALLY short...More to come if you Review!!