The first day of November had brought her a mere ten seconds of peace. It brought her ten seconds of serene tranquility before reality came crashing down hard. She squeezed her eyes shut tight against her thoughts, hoping vainly that sleep would find her again and she wouldn't have to deal with the nightmare that was going on next door. She wouldn't have to deal with the guilt of knowing that it was all her fault.
Jem was lying unconscious, and it was all her fault.
He'd told her to remember where she left her shoes and her dress, and she had remembered, but they hadn't been in the little storeroom off the stage when she went to collect them. Scout knew it had been Cecil Jacobs who had taken them, and she'd told Jem then and there that she would fight him once they got back to school. He'd hidden her best dress, the one Cal had starched and ironed especially for the pageant, and now she was going to have to spend all night looking for it. She bet Cecil had been evil enough to take it home with him. Oh, she'd get him for this!
Jem had continued telling her that they had to leave because it was getting dark but she had ignored him. She wouldn't be seen dead walking around Maycomb in her stupid ham costume, and Cal would go ballistic if she came home without her dress.
"I have to find 'em, Jem! I can't go home like this!" She had tried to move her arms to gesture to the costume before remembering how it restricted her. "And Cal will whip me if I lose my dress. It's my best one!"
Her brother had let out an exasperated sigh. "No, Scout! C'mon! Atticus said we had to come straight home, and everyone has left now so we're gonna be alone. Come on!" He had grabbed at her costume and forced her out through the auditorium doors. "You can get the janitor to let you in tomorrow."
Everything after that she was trying to forget. Everything after that she wanted to forget. If she hadn't lost her dress and shoes then they could have walked home with everyone else, they wouldn't have been alone and Mr Ewell wouldn't have hurt Jem. It was all her fault.
Her guilt was so overpowering that she had failed to notice just how quiet the house was, but when she did it caused huge knots of worry to form in her stomach, knots so big she was sure she was going to be sick. Had Jem died during the night? Was that why everything was sitting so still? Usually, she would be able to smell breakfast being made in the kitchen and hear Cal singing to the radio; she would hear Atticus walking about in his bedroom getting ready for the day ahead; she would hear Jem doing whatever Jem did in the mornings.
This morning there was silence. Deafening silence.
Deciding that she couldn't hide from the day any longer, Scout pushed back her covers and shivered violently as her feet hit the icy cold floor. Atticus hadn't been in to keep her fire going during the night. When she pulled her bedroom door open and peered out into the hall, she saw that everything was still as it always was. She could see the little table where Atticus would drop the post, the door to the dining room was open and she could see her mother's tea things sitting on the sideboard, and she could see Jem's football sitting by the front door. Everything was how it should be, but yet something felt different, almost like she was living in an alternate universe.
Scout began creeping down the hallway towards Atticus' room, feeling like she was an intruder in her own home. She half expected to find the room empty and Atticus and Jem gone, but when she reached the doorway her fingers dug into the wood of the doorframe. Nothing had changed and Jem was still lying motionless in the bed. She let go off the little bit of hope she hadn't realised she had been desperately clinging to.
"Atticus?" Scout called to her father, for some reason finding she was whispering. He was still in the same spot he had been the night before, one hand holding tightly to Jem's uninjured one. At the sound of her voice he looked up, gave her what looked to be a smile, and nodded his head for her to come in. "Did Jem wake up?" She asked, her voice shaking just a bit.
"No, honey." Atticus sat up a little on his chair, making room to lift her onto his knee. "Dr Reynolds said it might be a while. We just have to wait."
Scout curled herself into the warm comfort of his chest, finding that the longer she looked at Jem in that bed, the more her bottom lip began to quiver. "It's my fault, Atticus," she said, feeling hot tears spring to her eyes.
Atticus' hand went to her hair and he began to stroke it. "What's your fault, honey?"
"That Jem's gonna die!" Scout exclaimed, feeling something in her burst. "It's my fault! If I hadn't lost my dress and my shoes then we could'a came home with everyone else and then Mr Ewell wouldn't have hurt Jem and he wouldn't be dying!" She started to cry into his chest.
How many times had she wished Jem wasn't around? Too many. Now that she was faced with possibly not having her big brother anymore, she regretted every time she had wished she hadn't got one. If Jem died then who would teach her how to ride her bike? Who would take her swimming in Barker's Eddy? Who would stand up to Mrs Dubose for her and buy her ice cream after? She couldn't be Scout without Jem.
In response, Atticus began to rock her gently back and forth. "Shhh, honey, shhh. Jem's not dying, he's just unconscious," he murmured. "And not one bit of this is your fault. You did nothin' wrong. You're the innocent party." He reassured her, and she felt his vague, dry kiss on her temple.
Her tears refused to subside and she was hiccuping violently into Atticus' cardigan. It was her fault. It didn't matter what Atticus said, she was still blaming herself for being the reason Jem got hurt so bad. Atticus always said to mind Jem when he could make her and she hadn't. Now look what had happened.
"So...so Jem is gonna be alright?" Scout managed to hiccup out, her thoughts so scrambled that she could focus only on Jem's recovery.
"He's going to be just fine, baby. Just fine." Atticus replied, and Scout knew he was always right.
oOoOoOoOo
When Jem did begin to regain consciousness, Scout was hanging off her father's doorframe once again. Atticus refused to go back to work until Jem was alright again, and divided his days between sitting beside his son and doing what work he could in his study. A lot of the time when he sat watching Jem, Scout would stand and watch him. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking that Jem was going to die? Was he getting as much time as possible with him because he thought Jem wasn't going to make it? What would happen to them if Jem died? What would happen to her if Jem died?
But Jem wasn't going to die. She saw that with her own eyes on a Thursday evening.
As she stood watching Atticus hold Jem's hand and stroke his hair, she saw the exact moment her father became a little more alert.
"Jem?" Atticus was calling to him. "Jeremy?" Scout could hear the hope and excitement in his voice.
Scout's own heart leapt and she ran the short distance to Jem's bedside. Her brother was turning his head a little to the left and then a little to the right, his face was scrunching up and it looked as though he was trying to speak. Scout thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Jem was ok!
"Jem! Wake up, Jem! You won't believe who carried you home! Jem! It was Boo Radley, Jem!" Scout did her best to coax him awake, grinning wildly and feeling the first sense of relief since Halloween. "Jem, you gotta wake up!"
"Scout, honey, let him come round on his own. Don't touch his arm." Atticus reminded her, and she saw his own grip on Jem's injured hand tighten.
Together they watched. They watched Jem's eyes begin to flicker open and he came fully back to them. Scout thought she would faint with relief.
"Atticus..." Jem's voice was hoarse and he sounded groggy, but he was speaking! "Atticus."
"Yes, son. I'm here," Atticus replied, smiling at him.
"Atticus, where's...where's Mama?" Jem asked, and Scout's head snapped towards her father in alarm. Why was Jem asking about Mama? He knew that Mama was dead. Something was wrong.
As if to confirm her fears that something wasn't right, Scout saw Atticus' face go white. "Jem, son, you had an accident. You hit your head. You're just confused. Your mother's dead and she has been for seven years," Atticus said, deciding to be blunt.
Jem's brow came together. "What?" His voice sounded alarmed. "No! Mama was here...we were on the porch...we were waiting for you...she was right here!" His voice was fully back and he was half shouting at Atticus, almost as though he believed Atticus was hiding their mother somewhere.
"Jem, Mama's dead, remember? You were six and I was two. You told me." Scout took her chance to talk to her brother, speaking softly and putting a hand on his cast.
Jem turned his head to look at his sister, his eyes showing clearly his fear and utter confusion, and he turned back to look at their father. "Atticus, who...who's she?"
Scout took her hand off his cast as if it had burned her. She looked quickly at her father for reassurance, but her heart plummeted when she saw nothing but plain fear in his own eyes. Something was wrong with Jem.
"Jem, it's me! It's Scout." Scout said, moving even closer to Jem's side. Maybe if he got a better look at her he'd remember. "I'm your sister!"
Jem was shaking his head against the pillow. "No. No. Atticus, who is she? What's she doing here?" He turned to look at their father again, making Scout's heart begin to race with panic.
"Jeremy, that's your sister, Jean Louise," Atticus told him, quietly but firmly.
"No it's not! Get her out of here, Atticus! I don't want her here!"
"Jem, stop it you're scaring me! It's Scout! It's me!" Scout felt the catch in her throat as she began pleading with her brother to remember. He had to remember her. "Look!" Scout pulled back the sleeve of her shirt to expose a scar on her arm. "Remember you pushed me in the tire a few weeks ago and I fell out and got this scar? Remember, Jem? You thought Cal was going to be so angry at you!"
"Atticus, get her out of here! I don't want her here!" Jem was getting more and more angry by the second, and breaking his sister's heart in the process. Where had her Jem gone?
"Scout, honey, why don't you go and get Cal to call Dr Reynolds? Tell him we need him to come over right away," Atticus asked her gently while trying his best to calm Jem down.
Scout felt completely deflated. It was as though someone had stuck a pin in the happy little bubble that had formed once Jem woke up. Her brother couldn't remember her. The human being she had spent all her life with and formed an almost unbreakable bond with now saw her as a stranger. How would they be able to get through this?
She followed Atticus' instructions and ran down the hallway to the kitchen and Cal, flinging herself at the woman and feeling all the pent up tears finally spill over.
"Atticus wants you to call Dr Reynolds," she got out between sobs. "Jem's awake, but he doesn't remember me. He's asking for Mama!" She was holding onto Cal for dear life and shaking with the force of her tears, but she felt Cal's strong arms wrap around her.
"Hush, baby, hush. Breathe, deep breaths. Tell me what's wrong now." She spoke kindly, stroking Scout's hair to encourage her to calm.
"Jem...is...awake," Scout said, tears making her take an involuntary deep breath between each word. "He...can't...remember...me. Atticus wants...you to...call...Dr Reynolds. He...asked...for Mama." Scout finished, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Oh, Lord almighty," Cal whispered to herself while she held Scout tight. "You stay in here with me, baby. It's all gonna be ok." She smoothed Scout's hair down with both hands and then left to use the phone.
Back in the kitchen Scout wrapped her arms around herself, still hiccuping pathetically. Jem was hurt. Jem couldn't remember anything. It was all her fault.
oOoOoOoOo
Dr Reynolds had come over soon after Cal had called, but neither she nor Atticus would allow Scout to be in the room with Jem. She had stood outside the bedroom door and listened to them mumble within, but she could pick up nothing about what was wrong with Jem. What if it was something that Dr Reynolds couldn't fix? What if it was something so terrible that Dr Reynolds had no way of fixing Jem and he was stuck like that forever? What if she never got her Jem back?
Scout's worst fears were confirmed when she caught a glimpse of Dr Reynolds coming out of Atticus' room shaking his head.
"...do what I can, Atticus, but there's no way to be sure. With the blow he took it could be permanent. I'll send word to Montgomery, maybe Boston too."
Atticus looked completely defeated as Dr Reynolds left, and Scout was scared to ask him just what was wrong with Jem. Atticus seemed to have aged twenty years in the time that the doctor was over, and he practically collapsed onto the chair in the hallway. Sensing he was upset, Scout ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, remembering how it had cheered him up considerably the night of Halloween.
This time he didn't hug her back.
"Mr Finch?" Cal had followed her out of the kitchen, one hand clamped over her heart.
"Amnesia," Atticus replied simply. "Retrograde amnesia." He sighed and put his head in his hands.
"Oh, my Lord." Cal answered, her hand now moving to cover her mouth. "Is it..can they fix him?"
"I don't know, Cal, I don't know." Atticus shook his head. "Dr Reynolds is sending for some specialist in Montgomery, and he might go as far as Boston."
"Atticus, is Jem dyin' now?" Scout asked quietly, not fully understanding anything that had been said.
Her father gave her a weak smile and put his arm around her. "No, baby. Jem isn't dyin'."
If Jem wasn't dying, then why did everyone look so sad?
oOoOoOoOo
In the days that followed, Scout saw more of Dr Reynolds than she ever had in her life, and he was soon accompanied by two other doctors. Atticus had explained that Jem was suffering from amnesia which meant that he had lost his memory. Some things he could remember while some things he couldn't. The doctors from Montgomery and Boston were here to determine just how bad Jem was going to be affected.
She hadn't been allowed near Jem since the evening he came round because Atticus was worried it would agitate him, so other than her father giving her updates on Jem's condition, she was completely in the dark. She needed Jem to be ok. She regretted every mean thing she had ever said to him, she regretted every time she had said she hated him in a moment of anger, she regretted every time she had made him upset or angry. If Jem pulled through this she promised that she would be the perfect example of a little sister. She would be nothing but sweet and helpful to Jem all the time. She would sell her right arm to Satan if it meant Jem would be ok.
Atticus had told her that Jem had been given another sedative. The doctors thought that maybe he hadn't been ready to regain consciousness when he did and his brain still needed some time to heal. They thought, they hoped, that if his brain was given the proper time to rest, then the next time he came round parts of his memory would have returned at the very least. If not, then there was a very strong chance his memory loss would be permanent.
When he did start to regain consciousness again on a Friday morning, Atticus and Dr Reynolds were in the room with him. At the sound of their voices calling to Jem, Scout was out of the kitchen like a flash and racing down the hallway to Atticus' bedroom. She stopped abruptly in the doorway again and watched them both talk to him, but it was impossible for her to determine if Jem had come back or not.
"Jem!" She shouted over the tops of Atticus and Dr Reynolds' voices. "Jem, do you remember me now? It's me! It's Scout!" She had ran to Jem's bedside again, almost on her knees begging him to remember. "Please say you remember me! Say you remember me, Jem! Please!" She was crying again, huge tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, Jem," she whispered.
Jem looked away from her towards Atticus, and she swore she felt her heart stop beating inside her. Please let him say he remembered her.
"Atticus, why is she still here? Who is she?" He asked, his voice hoarse and rough again.
Scout's heart shattered. Jem had no idea who she was anymore, and it was all her fault.