Jem reminiscences about Halloween and a certain enigma living next door.
It was still warm outside that afternoon. The perfect weather to be playing football, and the only thing keeping me from playing was the pain in my arm, and Aunt Alexandra's watchful eyes and her insistence in me staying in bed. I sighed and shifted a little. Laying still seemed to be the easiest task in the world, yet still hard to do when forced to.
A moving figure outside my window caught my attention. Mr. Nathan walked by swiftly, slowing down near our front yard to tip his hat, probably to Scout, and then he was off again.
My mind unconsciously drifted to the house next door, to the person living inside. It's been two days since the pageant.
I positioned myself on the bed so I could at least see some shred of the Radley house from the window. I couldn't see anything. I stole a quick glance at the door, hoping that neither Aunt Alexandra nor Calpernia would think of checking in at this hour. I heard women's giggling and laughter from the living room. Company.
That was enough assurance for me and I crept carefully to the window. I could see the gate and some of the yard, the swing on their porch unmoving as it had always been.
I wondered if he was still watching over us like he used to. Remembering how I described him to Dill shamed me, but it was a child's imagination. That was the only excuse that put me at ease. But somewhere in those two years made the 'six and a half; dined on squirrels and cats; a long scar on the face; had yellow teeth; popping eyes and drooled all the time' vision of Boo Radley disappear. Ever since that night I found my mended pants and Scout's discovery of the knothole.
Yet, after almost begging Scout to tell me about him, I still can't imagine him. I know he's not all that scary, but I needed to know how he looked, for curiosity's sake. But all Scout could say at first was that: "He was nice."
"I know he's nice Scout, but what'd he look like."
"Well, he was tall…"
"Yes…" I urged.
"And he definitely wasn't droolin'."
"I know that! Scout, describe 'im to me."
She was quiet for a while. I didn't know what was hard in just telling me what he looked like.
"His skin was so white, and he was coughin' a lot. He had blond hair and he didn't speak much. But he was the nicest person in the world Jem. He patted your hair when you were unconscious."
That led to another one of our childish arguments.
What would we tell Dill, I wondered. How would he react?
I remembered something that Scout mentioned yesterday, about how Arthur Radley would have easily been watching us. The Radley game and the letter; was he watching that too?
Realizing that he might have, I groaned and rested my head on glass. I kept it there until a sharp voice caused me to bump my head on it. Hard.
"Jeremy Finch! What in blazes are you doin' out of bed!"
I hoped to capture Jem's voice here. Criticisms are most welcome.