Finding Ourselves
a To Kill a Mockingbird story
by me211152004
I was back in town for the first time in many years. It was a sad affair I was here for too. My father had just passed away and I was currently standing in silence before his dark coffin with a curtain separating me from the rest of the funeral home.
He would be buried beside my mother, and they would finally be together for the first time in nearly two decades.
I bent my head in respect as memories flooded through me. I may not remember my mother, but I certainly had memories of my father.
"Het-Ccshhh!"
A soft muffled sneeze startled me out of my musings. I looked up to see it was my big brother, Jem though he didn't go by that name anymore; he was now Jeremy Finch a proud father and court judge.
"Jem!" I cried forgetting about his insistence that he was Jeremy; "Oh, are you going to take his case?"
I was referring to my father's case.
He hadn't dropped dead of natural causes.
A lot of the townsfolk think that Tom Robinson's wife murdered him. She was going through a tough time at the moment. Half insane with persistent depression that had worsened when the town had deemed her incapable of taking care of her kids she certainly seemed a likely murderer. Not to mention many thought she held hostility towards my father for not winning his case on her husband.
"Yes," Jem answered clearing his throat uncomfortably.
There was something very adult and...stiff about Jem now. He had no more of his child play, but that had faded away long ago. It was more that he didn't look, or sound like the Jem I used to know.
His sentences were always measured carefully, and his attire was pressed and pristine. With a strong jaw bone and prominent nose he looked like a stranger. His dark skin from moving south only added to the effect.
It was only with his wife and kids that I saw flickers of the old Jem shine through.
I eyed him now though as I caught something in his voice. His eyes were red with purple bags drooping down and his hair was a bit more haphazard than he usually let it go. The edges of his nose were a faint pinkish color.
I soon grew suspicious as he reluctantly pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. When I noticed that it looked more than a little used I couldn't stop myself from raising an eyebrow.
"Hehhh-Cssh! Cushhh!" he sneezed quietly rubbing his nose gently clean and tucking it back away, but soon his nose twitched again; "Ahhh-Ccsshuh!" He sniffed wetly after this in a very un- Jeremy Finch way.
I tried to catch his eye in question, but he looked away at the floor a slow creeping tinge of red staining his dark cheeks.
Well, I reasoned, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Jem was ill. He'd always been the sort to get embarrassed over something as trivial as a head cold.
For a few moments we both stood in silence staring grimly at my father's coffin. Jem's hushed sniffles punctured the silence every once and a while, but for the most part we stood...remembering.
It hurt so much remembering though. I wondered how Jem had dealt with memories of my mother. After all he'd been old enough to remember her.
"Hek-Cshhh! Hih-Csshhoo!"
Startled out of my reverie once again by Jem's ailment I realized he really had the worst end of the deal. He had been heavily urged to accept the case on my father, and I suspected the case and death had caused him to catch something nasty from the sounds of it.
I listened to him release a small, damp cough into the folds of his handkerchief and mutter a weak apology.
I accepted it silently. He couldn't help getting sick after all. Reaching into my pocket I pulled a fresh, slightly wrinkled handkerchief out for him.
He might not look well or sound at all well, but the handkerchief would be a welcome change to his rather wet one and would keep him from spreading germs. I placed a gentle hand on his arm and guided him out of the crowds so he could escape further notice from other people.
Once outside in his car he waved to me in that Jeremy Finch way, but his eyes sparkled with something Jem like. I smiled genuinely at him realizing it was the first time I'd done so in many years; we'd both been turning away from each other. Now, I could sense we were at least halfway found again.
The End
Written for weekly hatching bunny #23.
This is my crummy attempt at writing a To Kill A Mockingbird fic using a challenge. Not sure if I mastered it completely and it's a bit short, but I thought I'd give it a try.