A Continuation of To Kill a Mockingbird

592 Words2 Pages

The day after my twelfth birthday, the money had almost completely burned a hole in my pocket. Scout and I started to town in the early afternoon to purchase a steam engine for me and a twirling baton for her. We took our normal path, right by Miss Dubose's house and unfortunately, she was out on the porch.

"Where are you going at this time of day?" she shouted. "Playing hooky, I suppose. I'll just call the principal and tell him!" She looked like the ugliest thing I had ever seen. Oh, did I ever hate her.

"Aw, it's Saturday, Mrs. Dubose," I said.

"It makes no difference," she screamed.

She went on and on about how Miss Maudie had told her that I had broke her scuppernong this morning and when my father found out how he would send me to reform school. As she crowed on and on, she reminded me of big, fat buzzard. I knew she was talking nonsense, because I had not been near Miss Maudie's scuppernong since last summer and she would never tell Atticus even if I had broke it. Then she started to pick on Scout.

"And you, what are you doing in those overalls? You should be in a dress and camisole young lady!"

Mrs. Dubose bawled on and on about how if anyone did not change Scout's ways that she would end up waiting on tables at the O.K. Café. I grabbed Scout's hand to reassure her. I told her to hold her head high and be a gentleman. I did not know what I was thinking right then.

"Not only a Finch waiting on tables but one in the courthouse lawing for niggers!"

I immediately became still. She continued on as I tried to shut it out. My blood was beginning to boil. I contained myself, I was known for being able to control my "slowfuse" temper and myself.

"…. goes against his rais...

... middle of paper ...

...s if Calpurnia knew exactly what had happened. I sat numb, neither Scout nor I making the choice to meet Atticus that day. She tried to cheer me up, saying I looked like a famous football player. At the time, not even Scout could cheer me up.

It seemed like a millennium before Atticus came home. I did not even look up when I heard the sound of his shoes on the steps or the screen door slam. He called my name, with a hint of calmness and much disappointment. Scout sat in the room, with a look of terror on her face.

Atticus did not say much, except to go right away and talk to Mrs. Dubose about what I had done. I was not angry, or scared as I let the screen door slam. Scout gave me a mixed look of sympathy and fright. Inside, I smiled.

I started down the street, ready to tell the biggest lie of my life. I was about to apologize to Mrs. Dubose.

Open Document