Young Writers Society

Author's Note: I wrote this my freshman year for a project. It was supposed to tell the story of a character from To Kill a Mocking Bird by Harper Lee, but from that characters perspective. I choose to write about a day in the life of Boo Radley. Tell me what you think!

Tick tock...tick tock...tick tock. The clock never stops. Tick tock...tick tock...tick tock. The short hand lines up with the six and the clock begins to sound. Dong...dong...dong...dong...dong...dong. The last note echoes across the entire house. It pierces the silence and scrapes every wall. The echo bounces along until it eventually fades away, returning the house to a heavy silence only broken by the ticking of the clock. Light pours in through the windows of the house serving as the only light. It paints the house in shades of pale and dark blues, while the corners of the home remain shrouded in shadows. Occasionally I can hear birds chirp, but the house swallows their song and the silence remains.

To avoid making noise, I roll out of bed, placing each foot carefully on the floor: one at a time. I tiptoe across my room to my window, avoiding the floor boards that I know creek. Then I hook my finger around the end of one curtain and gently pull it back. I flinch as the morning light hits my face, temporarily blinding me. My eyes adjust and I gaze out at the world that I haven’t touched in so long. Small particles of dust float around me. They catch the light, allowing me to see them as they flitter up and down. I look across the street at all the homes I’ll never go in. All those people I’ll never talk to. I like the early hours of the morning. They're always so much calmer that the rest of the day.

Across the street a door opens and a woman walks out of her house. She walks around her yard watering an assortment of flowers. I cock my head to the side as I watch her. I wonder what she'd say about me if someone asked her about me. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything at all. Maybe she wouldn’t know what to say. After all, I wouldn’t know what to tell anyone about her. She looks up and across the street at my own house. Her eyes zip up and down as she examines my home. Then her eyes trail up towards my bedroom window. They fall on my window and then her and my own eyes meet. Locked in an invisible bond. My heart begins to race. What am I supposed to do? I wonder to myself. Stop looking at me, I urge her in my mind. Though it’s only a mere few seconds, it feels like our eyes are locked together for ages. Looking to break the silent contact, I reach out and grab the curtain. I pull it forward and the light is blocked away. My room is once again enveloped by darkness. My heart continues to race, and I realize that I was breathing fast, in short shallow breaths. As my heart begins to slow, my breathing does as well. I take a deep breath and feel myself start to relax.

Once I feel safe again, I turn around and tip toe my way back across my room to my door. I grip the cold door handle and twist it to the side. Then I open the door. The hinges let out a long soft whine and stop only when the door has stopped moving. I tiptoe out into long hall, past my parents bedroom where I can hear father still snoring. Being extra careful, I start to descend down the stairs. I put one foot on the upper stair step, then I bring the other foot down to meet it. Then I put one foot on the next stair step, and bring other down to it. Slowly but surely I make my way down the stairs, one stair by one stair. I come to the bottom of the stairs where I then turn to look at the grandfather clock. Tick tock...tick tock...tick tock.

I begin to wonder how many times I’ve heard it tick in my lifetime. How old am I? Old. Old enough to conclude that it’s probably been more than a thousand. I look at my front door and remember back to the time that my friend rolled into my yard in a tire and ran into my front porch. It was the first time I had laughed in what felt like forever. Scout’s my only friend. Seeing her do something so silly made me so happy. I think it’s the first time I’ve smiled in a long time as well. Just thinking about Scout makes me smile. Sometimes I wish I could talk to her. But I wouldn’t know what to say. It would also mean I’d have to go outside. I don’t think I’m ready to do that yet. Really, I am just happy to watch her from within here. She knows I’m here; she knows I’m watching. She understands. Even if we’ve never spoken to each other, I think she understands me more than anyone else. She’s special like that. She doesn’t need to know someone to understand them. That’s why I like her.

Suddenly I’m snapped out of my ticking induced trance. I wonder if Scout has a grandfather clock. I look at the thing. It truly is deseving of the grand in its name. All of the cogs working together in harmony. All doing their part to make the individual hands turn so that when the little one aligns with a number, it can make it’s deep dongs. Just so that we can know the time. I wonder what it'd be like if just one of the cogs was missing. The clocks wouldn’t be able to work anymore. The whole thing would be left screwy and it get all messed up. But what if the clock could continue working without the missing cog? What if the cog never returned to the clock but the clock could keep working? Would the clock miss the cog? What would the clock do if the cog ever returned to it? What if just one cog in the great clocks understood how the missing cog felt? It would make me very happy.

Right, Scout. I shake my head. Focus Arthur, focus. Then an idea pops into my head. I know what to give Scout. I sneak into Dad’s office and carefully pull open the drawer that he keeps his old pocket watch in. It doesn’t work anymore and the chain is broken. But I don’t have anything else. And it is beautiful, it’s golden; so I always thought it was beautiful. I smile as I look down at it in my hand. Now I just have to give it to her. I take a deep breath and look at the front door. My heart already begins to race. Slowly I walk towards it. My knees begin to shake and so do my hands. The shaking pocket watch rattles. I take another deep breath to calm myself down.

My hand grips the front doors doorknob. Shakely I twist it and push open the door. Once again I flinch as the light of day hits my face. I peer around the door. The woman from earlier is no longer outside. Now’s the perfect opportunity. I take a small step out onto the porch. Fresh air fills my lungs and chills my skin. Goose bumps begin to rise on my arms. After a minute or so of mental preparation I take another step. Then another, and another. I walk down the steps of my porch and then out toward the towering tree in my yard. My eyes zip around, watching out for any sign of another person. No one is outside so far. Before long I find myself at the foot of the tree. I reach up and stick it in the hole of the tree knot. The other gifts I put in there are gone. Good. That means she’s gotten them. I drop the watch inside and smile. She’ll find it, she’ll find it because she found all the other stuff I put in there for her and her brother Jem. When she finds it, she’ll think of me, her friend.

I then look at the open door and remember where I am. My heart starts to race. I once again sprint back into my home and make sure to not slam the door and wake mom and dad up. I’m glad that I have that over with. I may have done this before, but it never gets easier to do. But it’s done. Now Scout can find it. She’ll have another one of my gifts. Giving her gifts give me this warm and fuzzy feeling inside. It makes me happy to know that they make her happy. I can’t wait till she finds it. Will she like it?I hope she does.

Quietly I make my way back up the stairs. Step by step. Stair by stair. I then tiptoe back down the hallway and silently close my bedroom door. In the darkness, I continue to smile. I pull the curtains back so that only a sliver of light cuts through. It slices my room in half in a single beam. I stick my eye in the crack and peer down at the tree. I wish I could wait here forever-until Scout came and found my gift. I wish I could see the smile it brought to her face. Silently I wonder to myself: Do my gifts make her as happy as she makes me? If they do, then I’ll never stop giving them to her. After all, she gave me the greatest gift of all: friendship. It’s more than could have ever asked for. I’ll never be able to repay her for it. But I can at least show her my appreciation. Even if it means giving her small little presents.

I close the curtains and sit a while in the darkness. Then I get up and return to my bed. I take note that a little bit of stubble has grown on my chin. I’ll have to shave later. The gentle ticking of the clock eventually lures me back to sleep. Tick tock...tick tock...tick tock.