Chapter 6 Chapter Six

Jem asked Atticus if we could sit with Dill by Miss Rachel's fishpond, because it was Dill's last evening in Maycomb this year. "All right," said the father, "say goodbye to him for me, and say we'll see each other until next summer." There was a low wall between our driveway and Miss Rachel's yard, and we climbed over it, and Jem whistled a few times in imitation of a quail, and Dill answered in the dark. "Not a breath of wind," said Jem. "Look there." He points east.I saw a moon of unbelievable size rising slowly under the shade of the big walnut tree at Miss Rachel's house. "It made it look hotter," said Jem.

"Is there a cross in the moon tonight?" Dill asked without looking up.He was rolling a cigar with newspaper and string. "No, only the girl. Dill, don't set that thing on fire, you'll set the whole end of town on fire." People say that there is a woman in the moon in Maycomb who always sits at the dresser and combs her hair. "We're going to miss you, boy," I said. "I reckon we better go see Mr. Avery?" Mr. Avery boarded across the street from Mrs. Dubose's.Besides changing change from the church offering tray every Sunday, he would sit on the front porch every night and sneeze until nine o'clock at night.We had the pleasure of witnessing one of his brilliant performances one night, and it was most likely his last, as we hadn't seen him since.Jem and I had just come down the front steps of Miss Rachel's house when Dill called to us. "My God, look there!" he shouted, pointing across the street.At first we only saw the front porch covered by kudzu vines, but when we took a closer look, we found an arc-shaped water column flying down from the branches and leaves, just pouring into the dim yellow light circle cast by the street lamp.By our eye there was a drop of almost ten feet from the source of the water column to the ground.Jem judged that Mr. Avery missed his shot; Dill said he must have been drinking a gallon of water a day.Immediately afterwards, the two of them competed to see who could shoot farther and whose skill was better. This kind of competition can only make me feel like an outsider again, because I have no talent in this area. .

Dill stretched, yawned, and said casually, "I see, let's go for a walk." His words sounded somewhat suspicious.In Maycomb, no one goes out for a walk for no reason. "Dill, where are we going?" Dill shook his head towards the south. Jem said, "Okay." As soon as I objected, he said to me in a sweet voice, "You don't have to come with us, little angel." "You don't have to go, you have to remember..." Jem wasn't one to dwell on past setbacks: the only lesson he'd gotten from Atticus seemed to be a little sharpening in the art of cross-examination. "Scout, we're not going to do anything but go to the light and back."

The three of us walked along the sidewalk in silence, listening to the squeak of the neighbors' front porch swings under their weight, to the nighttime whispers of the adults who lived on the street, Occasionally Miss Stephanie could be heard laughing. "How?" Dill asked. "Well," said Jem, "Scout, why don't you go home?" "What are you going to do?" Dill and Jem's idea is simple, they're going to see if they can peek at Boo Radley through that loose shutter, and if I don't want to go with them I'll just go home, but close The restless big mouth came out crisp and clear.

"But why did you wait until tonight?" Because no one can see them in the night; because Atticus will be absorbed in some book and be ignorant of the kingdom of heaven; because if Boo Radley kills them, they'll miss school instead of vacation; And because it's easier to peek into a dark house in the dark than it is in broad daylight--don't I understand that? "Jem, please..." "Scout, one last time, shut up or go home—I swear to God, you're looking like a girl every day!" From what he said, I had no choice but to join their movement.We figured it would be better to get under the barbed wire fence behind the Radleys' yard, where it wouldn't be easy to see.The barbed wire fence encloses a large garden, and there is a small wooden toilet inside.

Jem pulled up the bottom wire and motioned Dill to slip through.I followed, and pulled the wire for Jem.He barely squeezed through. "Don't make a noise," he whispered, "don't run into the cabbage patch, it'll wake the dead." I kept Jem's warning in mind, and it took about a minute to take each step. I saw Jem walking in front waving at me from a distance under the moonlight, so I quickened my pace.We went to the gate that led from the garden to the back yard, and Jem put his hand on it, and the gate creaked. "Spit on the door," Dill whispered.

"Jem, now you've got us in a hole," I muttered. "It's not going to be easy to get out of here." "Shh-Scout, spit on the door." We spat till our mouths were dry before Jem opened the door slowly, lifted it a little, pushed it aside, and leaned against the fence.Then we went into the backyard. The Radley house was not as pleasing to the eye from the back as it was from the front: a crooked back porch ran from one end of the house to the other; there were two dark windows between the two back doors; Instead, a plank about two inches thick and four inches wide supported the roof; an old Franklin stove crouched in a corner of the corridor, above which a mirrored hat-rack gleamed in the moonlight. With eerie light.

"Ah-yeah," said Jem softly, lifting his foot. "What's the matter?" "Chicken shit." His voice was as soft as breathing. We had no choice but to be wary of unseen dangers coming from every direction, and if Dill, who was walking in front, gave a low voice of "Jesus," something must have happened.We tiptoed to the side of the house and went around to the shutter with its loose leaf.The ledge in front of him looked a few inches higher than Jem's. "Let's hold you up," he murmured to Dill inarticulately, "you wait." Jem grabbed his left wrist and my right wrist, I grabbed my left wrist and Jem's right wrist, and then the two crouched down, seated Dill on the shelf we'd set up, and lifted him up so he was clinging to the ledge.

"Come on," whispered Jem, "we're going to give up." Dill punched me on the shoulder and we put him down. "What do you see?" "Nothing. Just curtains. But there's a light coming from somewhere deep in the room." "Let's get out of here," said Jem, in a voice as soft as his breath, "and look around the back." I was about to object when he gave me a "shh" to shut me up. "Let's try it out the back window." "No, Dill," I said. Dill stopped and let Jem go ahead.Jem had just lifted his foot onto the bottom step when the stairs creaked.He stood motionless on the spot, and then shifted his weight up little by little.The stairs made no more noise.Jem stepped up two steps, landed on the porch with one foot, then lifted his body up hard, shaking for a while before regaining his balance.He got on his knees, crawled to the window, and looked up.

It was at this time that I discovered the shadow.It was the figure of a man, also wearing a hat.At first I thought it was a tree shadow, but the shadow was moving—there was no wind, and the trunk couldn't walk at all.At this moment, the whole back porch was bathed in moonlight, and the shadow could be seen walking briskly across the back porch towards Jem. Then Dill saw it too.He covered his face with his hands. Only when the shadow passed Jem did Jem realize that he was frozen with his arms round his head. The shadow stopped about a foot in front of Jem, an arm stretched out from the side, dropped again, stood motionless, then turned, passed Jem once more and walked back. , turned along the corridor to the side of the house, and then disappeared. It really came without a trace and went without a trace.

Jem jumped off the back porch and came running towards us.He slammed open the courtyard door, gesticulating with his hands and feet, telling Dill and I to retreat quickly, and then drove us to run between two rows of rustling cabbage.Just halfway through the run, I suddenly tripped and fell to the ground. Just as I fell, I heard a bang gunshot, breaking the surrounding tranquility. Jem and Dill flung themselves down beside me.Jem wheezed and sobbed: "Run to the school fence!--quick, Scout!" Jem pulled up the bottom wire, and Dill and I scrambled through the ground and sprinted toward the lonely oak tree on campus, looking for shelter.Halfway through the run, we realized that Jem hadn't followed, so we turned back and found him struggling under the wire fence, kicking off his pants before breaking free, and running towards the oak tree in only his shorts. We were finally safe under the cover of a big tree, and we almost collapsed to the ground with a sigh of relief, but Jem's mind was still racing wildly: "We have to go home, they will find us." We ran all the way across the campus, under the fence, to the deer field behind my house, over the fence in my back yard, and up to my back steps before Jem stopped us to catch our breath. After our breathing eased and became normal, the three of us tried our best to look as nonchalant as possible, strolled to the front yard, looked down the street, and found a circle of neighbors gathered in front of the Radley house. "We'd better go and see," said Jem, "they'll think it odd if we don't show up." Mr. Nathan Radley stood by the gate with a freshly fired shotgun across his arms.Atticus stood between Miss Maudie and Miss Stephanie, with Miss Rachel and Mr. Avery on one side.None of them saw us coming towards the crowd. We approached Miss Maudie calmly, and when she turned round she spotted us. "Where did you go? Didn't you hear the commotion here?" "What happened?" asked Jem. "Mr. Radley shot a Negro who ran into his cabbage patch." "Oh, did you hit it?" "No," said Miss Stephanie, "he shot in the air. Still made the guy pale with fright. He said if anyone saw a pale black person they'd have been in his yard He also said he had a shotgun waiting, and the next time he heard something in the vegetable patch, he wouldn't shoot into the sky, be it a dog, or a black person, or—Jem Finch !" "What's the matter, ma'am?" Atticus said, "Son, where are your pants?" "Pants?" "Pants." There is no way to quibble.Jem just showed up in front of the crowd in his underpants.I sigh. "Oh—Mr. Finch?" In the glare of the streetlights, I could see Dill was hatching an idea: his eyes widened, his fat cherubic face rounded out. "Dill, what's the matter with you?" Atticus asked. "Oh—I won his trousers," he mumbled. "Win away? How did you win away?" Dill scratched the back of his head with his hand, then wiped his forehead again. "We were playing 'strip poker' over the fishpond just now," he said. Jem and I's hearts sank back into our stomachs.The neighbors didn't seem to question the claim either: they were all stunned.But what exactly is "strip poker"? We never had a chance of finding out, because Miss Rachel was already yelling like a town fire siren: "Jesus, Dill Harris! Gambling by my fishpond? See if I don't peel you skin, boy!" Atticus hastened to free Dill so that he would not be tortured. "Wait a minute, Miss Rachel," he said, "I've never heard of them playing this before. Are you playing poker?" Jem closed his eyes and caught the "ball" Dill threw him: "No, it's just matches." I admire my brother so much.Matches are dangerous, but poker is a deadly mistake. "Jem, Scout," Atticus said, "I don't want to hear about you gambling any more. Jem, you go to Dill's and get your pants back. Go your own way. " We trotted up the sidewalk, and Jem said, "Don't worry, Dill, she ain't gonna do anything to you, Atticus'll talk her through. Boy, you were thinking fast enough just now. Listen... y'all Did you hear that?" We stopped and faintly heard Atticus say: "...not that serious...they all go through this, Miss Rachel..." Dill had a heart in his stomach, but Jem and I didn't.We have another problem before us: Jem has to show up in pants tomorrow morning. We got to Miss Rachel's door, and Dill said, "Here's my pair of trousers for you." Jem said he couldn't get them in, but thanked him anyway.We said good-bye and Dill went into the house.He evidently remembered being engaged to me, and he turned and came running back, and gave me a quick kiss in Jem's face. "Write to me, hear?" he called after us. Even with Jem's trousers on him intact, we were doomed to sleep badly that night.Lying on my cot on the back porch, every sound of the night was tripled; The laughter of a black man is like the jerk Radley wandering on the road to catch us; the insects making noise on the screen window is the jerk Radley frantically tearing the wire with his fingers; the two neem trees outside the window The tree has no good intentions, swinging and circling like a demon possessed.I was drifting between half asleep and half awake when suddenly I heard Jem muttering in a low voice: "Little Three Eyes, are you asleep?" "Are you crazy?" "Shh--the lights are out in Atticus' room." In the fading moonlight I saw Jem's feet swing to the ground. "I'm going to get my pants back," he said. I sat up straight all at once. "You can't go. I won't let you go." He is fumbling with his shirt. "I must go." "I'll wake Atticus if you go." "If you wake him up, I'll kill you." I dragged him over to sit next to me on the bed, trying to make sense of it. "Jem, Mr. Nathan's going to find the trousers tomorrow morning. That way he'll know you left them there. He shows Atticus, and it's really dire, but that's all. You better go back to bed and sleep." "I know," said Jem, "that's why I'm going to get it back." I'm starting to feel distraught.Jem's going back there alone--I can't help thinking of what Miss Stephanie said: Mr. Nathan's got a shotgun waiting, if there's any more noise, black person, dog...that Jem knows better than I do. I tried to dissuade him: "Come to think of it, Jem, it's not worth the risk. It hurts, but it's gone. He'll shoot you in the head, Jem." M. Please..." He exhaled slowly. "I... well, Scout," he murmured, "Atticus never hit me as long as I can remember. I want to keep it that way." This is just his idea.It seemed to me that Atticus was threatening us almost every other day. "You mean, you've never been caught by him, have you?" "Maybe, but—I'd rather keep it up, Scout. We shouldn't be taking chances tonight, Scout." I think that's when Jem and I went our separate ways.Sometimes I don't understand what he's doing, but it's just momentary confusion, but this time I find him completely unreasonable. "Please," I begged, "can you think again—going to that place alone..." "Shut up!" "It's not like he'll never talk to you forever, or do anything to you... I'm going to wake him up, Jem, I swear I'm going to..." Jem grabbed me by the collar of my pajamas and twisted it hard. "Then I'll go with you..." I was so strangled that I could barely speak. "No, you can't go, you will only make noise and trouble me when you go." I had no choice but to unlatch the back door, hold the door, and watch him slip quietly down the steps.It must have been two in the morning by this time.The moon was setting slowly, and the shadow of the pane became a hazy one.The back of Jem's white shirt was bouncing and bobbing, looming, like an imp bouncing up and down to escape the approaching dawn.A breeze blew, and the sweat under my ribs suddenly became chilly. I pictured him walking down the back passage, across the deer field, across the schoolyard, and around the fence—at least that's where he was headed.It will take longer to walk across this way, so there is no need to panic just yet.When it was time for my heart to rise to my throat, I pricked up my ears and waited for Mr. Nathan's gunshot.Then I thought I heard a creak in the fence behind me.That's just an illusion. Then I heard Atticus cough.I hold my breath.Sometimes when we go to the toilet in the middle of the night, we will find that he is still reading.He said that he often woke up at night, came to see us, and then had to read for a while before falling asleep slowly.I waited for the lights in his room to come on, keeping my eyes open for any light streaming in from the hallway.The light never came on, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The night owls have already rested, and the ripe neems are blown down by the wind, knocking on the roof, and the barking of dogs in the distance makes the night look more desolate and lonely. There he was, running towards me.His white shirt grew bigger and bigger in my eyes as it climbed over the backyard fence.He went up the back steps, bolted the door behind him, went to the bed and sat down.He didn't say a word, just held up the pants.He lay down, and for a moment I heard his bed shaking.After a while, everything was quiet, and I didn't hear him make a sound again.