Chapter 2

A/N: OK, so I finally decided to update this story since I had writer's block for my other ones…I own nothing except some of the twisted little thoughts in Nathan's head :^)

A/N 2: If anyone knows what Nathan's job was, could you please tell me in a review? I know it said he "bought cotton" or something, but I wasn't really clear on the meaning.

A/N 3: Never read The Grapes of Wrath--It's a stupid book (Has nothing to do with the story but it's true)

~~~

At about noon, I began to get ready for my daily trip to town. Mother had come down for a little while, mainly to eat breakfast, but now she was resting upstairs. Arthur sat in the living room carving God-knows-what from a piece of wood.

I put my key in my pocket and made my way to the door. I stopped before opening it, however, and turned to Arthur. "I'll be back in an hour or so," I told him. "Stay in here."

"I know," he muttered, his helpless gray eyes glaring at me.

"I'm done with the paper, if you-uh-want it," I added.

He nodded, and the door opened with a creak. I stepped outside; the sun was shining brightly overhead. I walked off the porch and out of our front yard.

As I made my way onto the street, I heard voices. Children's voices, coming from the Finches' yard.

"Jem--put the scissors away--he's coming!"

"Ssh, Scout, not so loud, he'll hear ya."

I glanced across the street at the children. Jem, the oldest, seemed to be trying to hide something while Scout, his younger sister, and Dill, their friend, exchanged anxious looks and snuck glances at me. They were whispering about something.

As I was walking in front of the Finch house, I heard Scout's youthful voice. "Hello, Mr. Radley," she said.

I turned around and saw the three children sitting on the Finches' porch. Jem had something behind his back. "'Morning Scout, Jem, Dill," I replied, nodding to each of them, making an attempt to be nice. "What're you children up to today?" I asked.

"We were just playing B-er-we were just…playing," said Dill shakily.

Jem gave him a dirty look, then said, "Uh, well, I think I hear Calpurnia callin' us in for lunch…"

"I don't hear any-ow, Jem," said Scout, after her brother kicked her lightly. "Why'd you-" she began, then glanced up at me. "Oh."

Jem gave a nervous laugh and then said, "Well, we'd better get goin'--see ya, Mr. Radley!" And with that, the three children rushed into the house. I saw that Jem was concealing a pair of scissors behind his back.

I returned on my way to town. I was puzzled by the children's behavior today. Usually, Jem and Scout, like their father, were much friendlier to me than most of Maycomb. But today, they had been jumpy and nervous, and the fact that they had been hiding a pair of scissors from me was peculiar, also. And if I, the brother of Arthur Radley, thought something was peculiar, then it must have been beyond belief to others.

Soon, I was in downtown Maycomb, which looked more like a suburban area of Chicago. There were a few stores, two restaurants, the jail, the courthouse, the town hall, and some other buildings. One thing we didn't have here was a theater, which I would have liked. For a few cents, I could spend about three hours forgetting about my family and home.

I spent about an hour and a half downtown. I bought a magazine and stopped for a quick lunch in the diner. As I was returning home, my thoughts wandered back to the Finch children and what they were doing. I told myself to let it go, that it was just kids acting strange, that I was obsessing over it, but I couldn't help but feel that something was out of the ordinary. I mean, hiding a pair of scissors…

Then it hit me like a five-pound bag of potatoes. I couldn't believe that I hadn't figured it out sooner (I guess living with Arthur for so long had somehow effected my brain). They were acting out our family's history, namely my brother's history.

All the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit together then. They had the scissors because that's what Arthur had stabbed our father with. And I was willing to bet my life savings on the fact that the stabbing wasn't the only part of Radley history that they were mocking. There was the trial, the imprisonment, the list went on and on. Fortunately, I wasn't that big a part of Arthur's life at that time or ever, so I wasn't being imitated directly, but still, this was my family.

I didn't know whether to say something to Atticus or just let it go. My gut told me to let him know about this, but I wasn't fully sure that they were imitating us. This whole event was bringing back memories I thought I would never have to face again.

The memories of Arthur's trial danced scornfully around inside my head. The trial took place over two days, but I only went the last day. Our parents went both days, however.

The last day was painful. I remember watching Arthur make his way to the front of the courthouse, his grayish-blue eyes full of poison. Mother was crying softly on Father's shoulder. I remember her muttering, wondering where she went wrong with Arthur (after all, at that time, I was considered the "good son"), asking God to help her son. Father showed no emotion whatsoever. He just glared at Arthur, not saying anything. I was just there. I don't remember feeling good, bad, anything. I just watched the trial as if it was a movie, and I was void of all feeling.

The trial seemed to take forever. It was terribly hot in the courthouse, and I was so very tired by the end of it. Eventually, though, the judge decided to send Arthur and the rest of the gang to an industrial school. Personally, I was a little glad about this. Arthur would be out of my way for a while, and by the time he returned, I would probably have moved out.

My father, on the other hand, was a different story. As soon as Arthur's punishment was said, he stood up. Mother jumped a little bit, and I rolled my eyes, as did Arthur. Here it went.

"Your honor," said Father, as everyone in the courtroom stared at him. "I do not agree with Arthur's punishment."

"Why not, Mr. Radley?" asked the judge, a little impatient. "Everyone else in this courtroom, including myself, seems to think that this is a fair and just punishment for the crime these boys did."

"For Christ's sake, Father, just let Arthur go to the damn school," I muttered.

"Shut the hell up," Father hissed at me. "Your honor, I see it as an embarrassment to Arthur and to the family name…"

"Would you rather him go to prison?" retorted the judge.

"Well, no, but…" Father struggled to think of something. "But if you let Arthur go, then I would make sure he never did anything of this nature ever again."

The judge thought for a moment. "If it was anyone else but you, Radley, I would decline, but I trust that you'd never go back on your word. So it's settled. Arthur will be released, providing he never does anything of this sort again." My father nodded. Arthur looked positively repulsed when he was to return home. If I were him, I would have rather gone to the school, too.

The car ride home was dead silent. Arthur had a mournful look in his eyes the whole time. It was then I decided to move to Pensacola.

A couple days after the trial, I got my parents and Arthur together to tell them that I was leaving. They didn't exactly take it as well as I wanted them to.

"You're what?" exclaimed my father once I had told him.

"Moving. To Pensacola…it's only about an hour or so away. One of my friend's brothers is selling an apartment there, so I already got a discount and…" my excitement died upon seeing the looks on my parents' faces. "What?" I asked.

"Do you really think that it's right to move now?" asked Mother. "I mean, right after Arthur's trial and everything?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, you won't really be needing me anymore," I replied.

Father had been pretty calm through this whole thing, well, calm for him at least, until he spoke then. "You're not going," he said simply.

"What do you mean I'm not-" I started.

"You won't be moving," said Father. "We need you more than ever, what with Arthur and-"

This time, I interrupted him. "And what do I care about Arthur? His trial's all done, what do you expect me to do now?" Father was about to say something, but I cut him off. "What, do you want me to watch him now?" Father and Mother looked at each other. "That's it, isn't it?" I asked.

"Well, we just thought that since we promised that Arthur would stay out of trouble, you could-" started Mother.

"Watch him?" I asked, finishing her sentence. That was it, I knew. Well, I wasn't going to be tied down by this family anymore. "I am not going to baby-sit Arthur anymore," I said. "From the day he took his first steps, you both had me watching him every single day, and I'm downright sick of it. I was the one who wanted him to go to the school…I thought that you two would've wanted that too. But no, Father, the family name is just so damn important to you that God forbid anything happens to it or anyone from the family does something against your wishes. Well, I don't care what you say, I'm moving out. I'm twenty-one years old and legally, I'm not in your custody anymore. Neither's Arthur, but apparently, he likes obeying you like a dog. But I don't, so I'm moving. End of story."

And with that, I strode swiftly towards the door. I already had a suitcase with all of my belongings in it. Father got up from the couch and started for me; I knew he was going to do something physical, so I had packed the suitcase beforehand. However, he moved much faster than I expected him to, and was nearing me quickly. I was not in any mood to fight him off, but luckily Arthur was. Before Father knew what was happening, Arthur leaped off the couch and punched my father hard, right in the face. Father fell to the ground, and Mother let out a shriek. Arthur looked up at me and said, with a strange smile. "Bye, Nathan."

"Bye, Arthur," I replied, opening the door. I slammed it, but then stuck my head back in. "I'm takin' the car, too," I called, over my father's cursing and my mother's shrieking. And with another firm slam of the door, I was gone.

I know I probably should regret that day, but, to tell you the truth, it was one of the few things I admire myself for doing.

~~~

I had arrived back at my house. Jem, Scout, and Dill were still outside, and, once again, they hid the scissors as I walked by. I did not speak to them, however.

When I got in the house, I found my mother knitting, and Arthur, on the floor, listening to the radio and cutting up this morning's paper. "H'lo," I mumbled to each of them, and I sat down next to Mother and began to read my magazine. I was still thinking about how the children were imitating, even mocking us. They weren't doing it deliberately, at least I thought they weren't, but it still hurt all the same. Their role-playing had opened up my wounds that I had thought were healed, but apparently weren't.

The next day, right before I left on my trip to town, I saw Atticus take the scissors away from the children. It made me feel a little better than before.