To Kill a Mockingbird
Arthur Radley
The death of Bob Ewell
Ma and Pa ain't ever happy. They always look at me with a mean look. They had the same eyes. Same blue-grey colour, same shade, same spiteful, hateful look. They ain't ever nice to me. Ma tried. Once. Pa beat her around about it though so she ain't ever gone near me anymore. Nate's the same as Pa. Didn't used to be though. That's the reason why Pa sent him out – to make him learn his lesson and bare his sins. Pa beat him too, same the reason as he did Ma.
Pa was a strict man. He made sure the Lord was watching everyone. He made sure to make everyone knew that He was watching. Everything and everyone was a sin. Niggers were sin, pleasure was sin, and I was a sin. The Lord was the innocent and the just. Pa read the bible every night, recited preaches and kept a cross in every room. He had a picture of Christ in each room but he refused to have one in mine. He didn't want me "tainting the Lord All-Mighty with my damned sinful abomination". Pa made Ma and Nate recite the rosary until their fingers bled.
Nate took over the family when Pa died. He watched Ma when she got sick and passed. He took care of the foods and the fixing up. Nate never cleaned though, said that "time was a'wastin' when botherin' with that cleanin'". Nate kept the house in shape though. The floors creaked when he walked around, taking care of his business.
He talked to me about the Tom Robinson case. Told me that the nigger raped and beat the Ewell girl in Mr Ewell's own property. Said that the nosy neighbours weren't bothering us no more – said he should thank that Robinson-nigger for letting us leave be.
Nate kept me locked up in a room most of the day, but he let me leave once or twice to have some food and do some of my business. He kept two keys wherever he went. One for my room and one for his. Nate never let anyone near his room since Pa died. Not even Ma when she had to clean the house. He ain't ever let me step passed the living room. I didn't mind. I never had business to be in his property.
It was near evening. I don't have a clock or anything like that; Pa never let me have anything other than a bed. The room he kept me in ain't got no windows. I had carved a small square through though with a spoon that I took. I could tell the time by the sun's movement. I could hear the high squeals of the children outside, their mother's scolding them with empty threats. The peals of laughter, the ring of doorbells and knocks ran across the whole of Maycomb. Nate told me that it was Halloween today. Nate hated Halloween. The large overbearing sun gloomed over the horizon, its orange-red streaks of light layered the trees and houses. The light hadn't reached my room. The Radley place had always been real dark. Barely any sun ever reached here.
Miss Stephanie Crawford lived across the road. She often glanced at the house, seemingly frightened and fascinated at the same time. She often talked to the other ladies of Maycomb. Her eyes constantly followed Nate's glooming form during his daily walks to the shops. She lived next to the nice Miss Maudie. The Finch children often talked to her. Miss Maudie was he only person who's nice to me. She made sure to drop a few bloomed azaleas next to the old tree with the filled-in knot-hole.
The children of Maycomb did their annual ritual of knocking on people's doors yesterday and disturbed the good people's peace. They ain't seemed to mind. They seemed to be prepared for it, passing out a small piece of mint or candy to each child. The children were all dressed as different things. Many witches, wolves, vampires. The Finch children were different; the boy carried the smaller girl's costume, a giant piece of ham. Heard Miss Stephanie Crawford talk about some school play or performance and I supposed they'd be part of it.
The Finch children looked like they were on their to the school. The both of them were just talkin'. The sun was going down now. Looked late. The air was crisp and dry; the birds seemed to have lost their voice. A cold breeze flew by, making the Finch girl noticeably shiver. I watched from the small hole in the wall as the Finch children drew closer and closer to the woods. It was bad for children to walk in woods.
A lone bird's shrill call cooed through the silent air. Soon enough, there ain't a moon no more. The girl tripped and the boy had dropped the large ham costume to help her and soon they were at the dark patches of the school yard. A looming figure walked by them. A sharp yell of fright echoed in the dark and soon enough, laughter. It was just a boy. It was simply a small prank.
The night grew longer and soon the children were back. The boy seemed to have heard something and kept turning his head. He suddenly called out a sharp "Hey!" as if to catch attention. The noise echoed and yet there was no reply. This wasn't a simple prank.
The shape of a large man formed under the small light. The children ain't seen him. Everything seemed to stop. The wind grew still and the night air grew cold. Then, there was screaming. The children ran as fast as they could and the boy was suddenly pulled back.
I stopped looking. Had to help. Nate was sleeping, his door was locked. I could break out easy. Nate knew I could. I grabbed a small wire and fit it through the small key-hole. It clicked after a few attempts. No time to think about bein' quiet. The children were gonna get hurt. A bad man was gonna hurt them. The chilled air flooded the night and the harsh and laboured breathing echoed through the broken house. Couldn't think of nothing. Had to get there faster. Couldn't waste no time.
The children were in trouble.