Mrs. Dubose was plain hell.
She was two doors up the street from us,
Jem would either avoid Mrs. Dubose or
Walk the street with Atticus as
Dubose was unanimously the meanest woman who ever lived.
She was very old, spending most of the day in
Bed or a wheelchair. Rumours said that
She had a concealed CSA Pistol under covers.
Jem and I hated her. We would be raked by her
Wrathful gaze, subject to ruthless interrogation regarding
Our behaviour. We could do nothing to please her.
Jem concluded it was cowardly to
Stop at Miss Rachel’s front steps and wait.
Atticus would say
“Good evening, Mrs. Dubose! You look like a
Picture this evening.”
I never heard Atticus say a picture of what.
“Not only a Finch waiting on tables but one in the courthouse
Lawing for niggers!” Jem stiffened. He cut the tops of every
Camellia bush Mrs. Dubose owned and bent
My baton against his knee.
The result was a talk with Mrs. Dubose and she wanted Jem to
Read to him. So, Jem was in the house, and read Ivanhoe to Mrs. Dubose.
After a while, Mrs Dubose lay on her back with cords of saliva
Collecting on her lips.
The alarm clock went off and
We went home.
That routine happened every day until
Jem said he regretted tearing up her camellias.
We had not seen Mrs. Dubose for
A month already. Atticus had come back one night and said
“She’s dead.”
Mrs. Dubose was a morphine addict.
She had died conscious and cantankerous.
She had disapproved of my doings.
She had given Jem her Snow-on-the-Mountain which
She treasured very much.
Mrs. Dubose had won.
Joel Lye 2i2(12)
Seah Shao Xuan 2i2(15)
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