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Leah Sauter

Several weeks after Jem's arm began to heal he started running a high fever.

He hardly did anything once he had begun to recover. His arms were weak; he could not move his legs or sit up unaided. Each morning Atticus would carry him out to a cot on the front porch where he would lie as I played or as Calpurnia hung laundry or tended the yard. Sometimes neighbors would come by to talk with him or bring him little treats, but he hardly ever spoke to them and would not touch the food they brought to tempt him. Calpurnia would bring him his lunch though he hardly touched it. When he got home Atticus would carry him back to bed, where Cal would try to tempt him with supper, he was listless and sad. He hardly ever talked anymore. He grew very thin over those weeks, he had always been slender but now you could count every rib, every joint of the spine. His shoulders became rounded, his back began to curve, and his legs bent stiffly at the knee. Dr. Reynolds came about every other day at first. He would prod Jem's unresponsive legs, take his temperature and pulse, shake his head grimly and speak to Calpurnia and Atticus for awhile before leaving. About five weeks after he got sick I decided to listen to what they were saying.

"It's like I have said everyday Mr. Finch if he doesn't try to help himself nothing can be done. Even if he does make an attempt there is no guarantee of improvement, he was severely paralyzed during the fever and little movement has returned since. His arms are not badly affected if he worked them I think he could regain some strength, maybe enough to propel his own wheelchair or walk with crutches. But the weeks are going by and contractures are beginning in the legs and back, if we don't start any kind of preventative treatment now his legs will be permanently deformed. Like I have explained before there is no cure for polio. All we can do is use splints and braces to support limbs and prevent deformity, beyond that it's in god's hands."

"I understand what you are saying, I have waited this long because I suppose I had hoped for a miracle. But it has been too long, do what you need to make him well." Atticus said resignedly and walked into Jem's room to sit with him awhile. I was stunned; of anything I had expected it was not this. I let out a little cry and Calpurnia's sensitive ears sought me out and she pulled me from my hiding spot.

"Scout? What are you doing? We thought you was outside."

"I came in 'cause I wanted to know what Dr. Reynolds was sayin'. Is it true, is Jem not gonna get any better?"

"Even doctors make mistakes Scout, maybe he'll get better in time. How about you go in there now and keep him and Atticus company, all right?"

"Alright Calpurnia."

"Run along now."

When I walked into Jem's room Atticus was sitting silently by his bed, tears were rolling slowly down Jem's cheeks and Atticus seemed close to tears too. He turned to me and started to explain what was going on. I cut him off not needing to hear it again.

"I already know Atticus; I listened when you and Dr. Reynolds were talking."

"Then you know that we will do everything we can to help your brother get better, right."

"Right, I know."

"Good." Jem spoke then.

"What's the use? Why even try, there's no point. You said that Dr. Reynolds said that maybe, maybe I could get well enough to walk on crutches or push my own wheelchair. What kind of life is that, why even bother. I might as well stay the way I am."

Atticus took Jem's weakened, thin body in his arms.

"Never say that Jem, there's always a point. How about we just give it a shot?"

Jem just turned his head away, shutting us out of his pain and bitterness. As if he was closing an invisible curtain between himself and those who cared for him.

The next day he was measured for splints and braces. He stopped fighting, stopped talking, and stopped caring. I tried to talk to him, I had many a one sided conversation, but nothing interested him anymore. The splints finally came, they were long rods of metal which came up to, and strapped around his waist, leather straps were at the knee and sock like leather pieces wrapped and laced up around his feet and ankles to keep them straight. His back too was braced in a corset like contraption that encircled his entire torso and came over his shoulders. After several days of moping around Atticus came to Jem's door with a surprise. It was a wheelchair with a seat long enough so that Jem's legs could stick out in front of him and a slightly tilted back so he wouldn't tire from sitting up. The whole thing was padded with soft cushions and the wheels were large enough for Jem to push himself or have someone else do it with the metal bar on the back. I was impressed but it only seemed to make Jem sadder. "How on earth did you get it Atticus?" I asked, we were not wealthy and Jem's splints must have cost a lot.

It turned out that Atticus hadn't bought it at all. When Calpurnia had told her minister that Jem might be paralyzed for life he had gotten all the men he could find to help and had built it just for him, the women had sewn the cushions and gotten Jem's needs and measurements from Dr. Reynolds. When he was finished explaining this to me he turned to Jem and said cheerily, "Why don't we try it out, Jem?"

"I don't want to." Jem stated. Atticus however, had strict orders from Dr. Reynolds not to take no as an answer. He picked him up; Jem had no way of stopping him. I could see the pain in his face at every movement.