Boo Radley
By Yamiga'sLight
My name is Arthur "Boo" Radley. I live in Maycomb County, Mississippi. I have lived in my house for as long as I can remember. I have a mental problem, and since my father wouldn't let me go to an institution, he put me under house arrest, and I haven't been out of the house in many years. My only connection to the outside world is a window, and through that window I saw two children, a brother and sister. It would appear that they were as curious of me as I was of them.
I finally couldn't take being alone anymore and started to do little things to have them recognition my life. Little things, like putting little trinkets in an old oak between my house and theirs. Nothing much, just things I could get my hands on. I watched them take these objects out of the tree, and that gave me such gladness just to see their eyes full of amazement and of their anticipation what was going to be in the tree next. This went on until my brother, who was just as nasty and mean as my father, filled up the knot in the tree when he found out what I was doing. Part of my outside life was cut off again.
A couple of years went by and I got to know the children better, even if they did not know me. I knew that their father was doing a big thing in court, even if I did not know what. All I did know was that it had something with Bob Ewell, apparently the scum of Maycomb County. That's what I was heard from my brother at least. It seemed that this Bob Ewell didn't like the children or the children's father much. The strange thing is, I don't even know their names.
Then something terrible happened. I shall tell you as if it was happening this very day. It was near Halloween, the day of what the people of Maycomb probably most associate me with. It was the night of the pageant, and I finally knew the children's names, Jem and Scout. I saw Jem carrying a giant ham looking thing. It looked so funny in his hands. He and Scout went to pageant at the school.
Hours passed with nothing for me to do. I could hear all along the street either the sounds of people's radios, or of them sleeping. I then heard a shout go out. I looked out the window, and saw Jem dragging Scout in her ham costume! The next thing I saw was a man tackle Jem! I looked harder and saw it was Bob Ewell with a switchblade in his hands. I was so angry. How dare he attack MY children, the ones I have watched for most of their lives! I was so full of rage; my ears were ringing and eyes red. I don't know what happened next, but I do know that I was out in the street running towards them. But I was too late, Ewell snapped Jem's arm like a twig. Scout then ran headfirst into Ewell, and knocked him on the ground. Ewell than grabbed her and started to crush her.
I wasn't taking any chances. I ran into Bob Ewell, tore him off Scout, and jabbed something into his chest. I looked down, and saw a kitchen knife I had taken out of the house stuck in Bob Ewell. Ewell staggered around and then fell dead to the ground. I looked around and saw that Jem was lying unconscious on the ground with his arm bent at a funny angle. I realized that Jem's arm was broken. I picked him up with some difficulty, and carried him to his house.
I met his father, Atticus, on the front porch. "What happened?" he said. But I guess he really didn't need to ask. We took Jem inside, and I heard Scout running into the house while Atticus's sister called for the doctor. The sheriff came and questioned Scout about what happened. All the while I was in the corner watching but not really listening. I had finally met the children I had watched for so long. I noticed that Scout was pointing at me and I smiled, oh so slightly. She then recognized me. "Hey, Boo," she said.
So many things happened that night. I saved Scout and Jem, met their father, and killed the man who was trying to kill them. I'm still not sure how I did it, but I do know that they were my children and I was their Boo. After finally I said a silent goodbye to Atticus and Jem, Scout helped me to my house, though she made sure I led. As I walked into my house, I knew that I was never going to see them again, and Scout knew the same thing at the time.
Good neighbors give each other things. I gave them two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and I guess their lives. And even though they don't think they gave me anything in return, they did. They gave me the feeling that I was needed by someone for who I was, and realization that I needed them too