Arthur's Journal Part 2

Watching from the highest window in my humble abode, I see the same two children who I see very often in these parts, tussling on the ground with some man. Who this man was, I have no idea but he seemed to be unsteady and unsure of what he was doing with his body.  But like I said I have no idea who he is, so how could I be put into this situation.  I keep watching these children struggle, and then I decide its time to venture out of my comfortable house to save someone who is familiar to me. Many things race through my mind as I dart down the stairs. What if these kids think I will hurt them too? Will they let me help them? Will they hate me? I disregarded these pessimistic thoughts for there are kids in need.  Scooping the children in my arms I feel a sense of relief spread through my body, and my apprehension subsides.

Once I saw the boy, who I would soon call Jem, safe inside his home, I felt I had accomplished something.  I had taken a stand against the prejudices that people have against me, which made me feel empowered. Leaving my house was easier than it seemed.  For such a long time, I had longed to have a reason to leave and feel part of something.  I set Jem down in his bed and stand in the corner, not wanting to take up any needed space in the room. Watching Jem’s motionless body made me feel similar to how society views me.  My presence in Maycomb was like Jem’s motionless body, something that causes commotion but doesn’t move nor hurt anything.

The minutes go by like an eternity, but in a good way, I have enjoyed this time. During my excursion I met the little girl that I often see with Jem.  Her name is Scout, when I first saw her up-close she pointed at me and said “hey Boo”.  I knew that Boo was a name that I had acquired in the neighborhood, and that the community started rumours about me with out ever speaking a word to me.  I realized that once I had found the courage to venture out into humanity that gossip would flourish, but now I knew that it didn’t matter.  It had given me the chance to meet and help these kids.  Scout calling me Boo didn’t hurt and during our conversation she adjusted to calling me Arthur.  As her level of maturity rose by calling me by my proper name, I asked her to escort me home. We linked arms and she walked me home.  I didn’t know that that would be the last time I saw these fascinating children up close. Walking back into my house I felt more welcome in the neighborhood and less judged by the outside world.  I had a great feeling that I may have persuaded, at least a few people, that although a recluse, deep I am an innocent human being who just likes the comfort of their home, which society should accept.