From the perspective of Mrs. Dubose:
My life was going pretty well. Myself and everyone I knew were getting older and older, but nothing very significant was happening in my life. Occasionally I would get really sick, but overall I was doing fine. Just the other week I started to get real sick. I figured it would be best if I went on pain medication, it would be better for everyone around me. So I did.
I didn't have much to do with my time, so I would sit out on the front porch and talk to anyone that came by. If they got too close to my plants I would teach them a lesson. For the most part, people walked on the other side of the street, trying to stay inconspicuous I believe, which bothered me a lot. I didn't see why they couldn't walk on my side, so I'd speak my mind.
One day, these kids that live down the street from me named Jem and Scout walked by; on my side of the street, just how it was supposed to be. Even though they did that right, the girl didn't even look or act like a lady. She acted like a boy her age, and I knew her mama wouldn't be proud of that. So, I taught her correctly. She was very improper and if no one else was going to teach her then I would have to. People probably thought of me as cantankerous, which didn't bother me because I was just trying to put things the way they should be.
Another thing was wrong. Why weren't they in school? I though children were supposed to be in school all of the time not lallygagging by my house. Once again, I spoke my mind. They talked back to me, saying what day of the week it was, but why did I care that it was a Saturday? Supposedly they were going to town. This is also very improper; I should talk to their father about this. Actually, Atticus was defending negroes, he didn't deserve to be talked to. No matter how much peril the negro might be in, he didn't deserve to be represented. Once again I spoke my mind about that. The kids got an angry look on their face, and I have no idea why. I wouldn't be angry, they needed to be told the truth.
I kept taking my pain medication. Jessie said I was addicted, but I was not. It made me feel better. I couldn't live without it because the pain was so unbearable. No one knew what I was sick with which frightened me. I could die any day at any time. With nothing left to do in my life, I hoped something interesting would happen.
Indeed something interesting did happen. Jessie came in a little while after the confrontation with the children. He said something about all of my flowers cut down at the stems. I didn't believe him but I couldn't go out and check. I didn't really care who did it as long as they would repay me somehow. A little while after, one of the children named Jem came to me. I had a feeling it was him all along. I scolded him. Then he asked me how he could repay me. I thought for a moment. I wasn't really in need of anything because of my crucial health state. It wouldn't be bad to have someone read to me again. It would remind me of my mother. That would be nice; a simple reminder of my mother. I made him come over everyday for about a month. I'd surely be dead by then.
And so it was. He came everyday with his snot nose sister. She still didn't listen to me about being a proper lady. Maybe she'd realize no one will treat her like a lady if she didn't act like one. He read and I didn't listen. Just the simple pleasure of remembering my mother was good enough. Also the pain medication helped sooth me. These readings were the only significant events going on in my life, even though to my old ears the boys voice was inaudible.
About 3 weeks into the readings, Jessie mentioned making a will. I didn't know anyone or particularly care for anyone in specific. I didn't have any contemporaries especially close to me. My husband had died many years ago, and I didn't care about my will.
One thing I wanted before I died was to give the children a simple little present. They stuck true to their promise of reading to me, which needed to be repaid. I decided to forgive the boy for chopping down my flowers. I wasn't going to live much longer so the plants didn't mean anything to me. I let it go, and hope he got the significance of the present I gave him. I felt myself at peace at my last moments, nothing left to do or say. I had lived my life long and well, and hopefully tought children things along the way.
2 comments:
1. For your writing I would recommended you spell check first. I would also recommend making it into paragraphs. Otherwise it was really well written.
2. I don't know if she was just angry. I personally think that at such an age she get frustrated all the time. I would also think that her age made her think differently. I would also think taht she just dosent like children or anyone else.
1. I thought that the grammar in the post was really good except for when you said “Myself and everyone I knew…” it should’ve been written as “Everyone I knew and I” but that was the only problem with the grammar. In this post you also did a good job in using the vocabulary words correctly.
2. I feel that you did a great job capturing Mrs. Debose’s emotions. I really liked how you mentioned her feelings on how people walk on the other side of the street even though she didn’t mention it in the book. The way that you had her justify her remarks was really good. I really liked it.
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