“Whoa, son,” said Atticus. “Nobody’s about to make you go anywhere but to bed
pretty soon. I’m just going over to tell Miss Rachel you’re here and ask her if you
could spend the night with us—you’d like that, wouldn’t you? And for goodness’
sake put some of the county back where it belongs, the soil erosion’s bad enough
as it is.”
Dill stared at my father’s retreating figure.
“He’s tryin‘ to be funny,” I said. “He means take a bath. See there, I told you he
wouldn’t bother you.”
Jem was standing in a corner of the room, looking like the traitor he was. “Dill, I
had to tell him,” he said. “You can’t run three hundred miles off without your
mother knowin‘.”
We left him without a word.
Dill ate, and ate, and ate. He hadn’t eaten since last night. He used all his money
for a ticket, boarded the train as he had done many times, coolly chatted with the
conductor, to whom Dill was a familiar sight, but he had not the nerve to invoke
the rule on small children traveling a distance alone if you’ve lost your money the
conductor will lend you enough for dinner and your father will pay him back at
the end of the line.
Dill made his way through the leftovers and was reaching for a can of pork and
beans in the pantry when Miss Rachel’s Do-oo Je-sus went off in the hall. He
shivered like a rabbit.
He bore with fortitude her Wait Till I Get You Home, Your Folks Are Out of
Their Minds Worryin‘, was quite calm during That’s All the Harris in You
Coming Out, smiled at her Reckon You Can Stay One Night, and returned the
hug at long last bestowed upon him.
Atticus pushed up his glasses and rubbed his face.
“Your father’s tired,” said Aunt Alexandra, her first words in hours, it seemed.
She had been there, but I suppose struck dumb most of the time. “You children
get to bed now.”
We left them in the diningroom, Atticus still mopping his face. “From rape to riot
to runaways,” we heard him chuckle. “I wonder what the next two hours will
bring.”
Since things appeared to have worked out pretty well, Dill and I decided to be
civil to Jem. Besides, Dill had to sleep with him so we might as well speak to him.
I put on my pajamas, read for a while and found myself suddenly unable to keep
my eyes open. Dill and Jem were quiet; when I turned off my reading lamp there
was no strip of light under the door to Jem’s room.
I must have slept a long time, for when I was punched awake the room was dim
with the light of the setting moon.
“Move over, Scout.”
“He thought he had to,” I mumbled. “Don’t stay mad with him.”
Dill got in bed beside me. “I ain’t,” he said. “I just wanted to sleep with you. Are
you waked up?”
By this time I was, but lazily so. “Why’d you do it?”
No answer. “I said why’d you run off? Was he really hateful like you said?”
“Naw…”
“Didn’t you all build that boat like you wrote you were gonna?”
“He just said we would. We never did.”
I raised up on my elbow, facing Dill’s outline. “It’s no reason to run off. They