BOO!... RADLEY

This time of year always brings back memories of sitting in Mrs. Taylor's Honor's English class, shivering.

Whether due to an ice cold desk or the fact I might have been misplaced; in over my head with much more honorable English students, I held my hands and arms close to my body between my knees and legs, waiting for Mrs. Taylor to call on me. Whether define a prepositional phrase or correctly place an adjective, I was nervous the whole hour. The only thing that saved me was when she gave me a book and let me read it and write about it;--- dissecting it's wordy body parts was akin to a foreign language.

One day, as I sat in the dim lit room, ice cold upon my desk, we watched: 'To Kill A Mockingbird' in black and white.

Movies made with amateur footage should be rated R; the unfocused footage of the 70's time period alone gives me the hibbie-jibbies. Now movies are so full of gore and laser, life-like treachery, it isn't that scary. Or maybe my senses have dulled.

Yet, they go beyond life-like so when you walk outside, breathe in open air and see the birds chirping, squirrels foraging for the upcoming winter and it seems quite boring. Your vision has changed.

For instance imagine being near-sited and not knowing it, but your mother takes you to the Eye Doctor. Sitting in a Barber shop chair with your poor eye sight, a mask is lowered in front of you like Aniken in Revenge of the Sith, strapped to the table after being badly burned; his computer mask slowly lowered then secured over his once hot face.



With the first: "kuuuuhhhh" he takes, you know his outlook on life is going to be forever changed. (because they show you the computers goin on inside of it that he gets to see through from then on.)


In the Dr.'s office the letter E similarly comes into such crisp, clear focus, you, like, Vader, about fall out of your chair.

Movies now are so clear, our once fine tuned senses make it initially thrilling and fun but gradually our expectations are amped and it's: "ho-hum" after a few viewings. That is until the next bigger n better thriller!

For me, you put on ANY movie made before technology got hold, and all they have to do is show a shadow, some fuzzy fake scenery footage and I am spooked. It makes the simple task of pulling back a shower curtain,


disturbing.

Because I am a visual wimp, I have to be careful what I watch, especially scary movies. So I banned them from my near-sighted eyes.

However, I could not ban the consequences of this Sophomore English class. Whenever my classmates and I saw or heard: "Boo!", we'd instinctively chime: "Radley" at the end of it due to Harper Lee's memorable book.

For those who don't know, Boo Radley is a character in Harper Lee's book, rumoured to have been a maniac; one day cutting paper with his scissors, his Dad walked by and Boo sunk the long sherling scissors into his thigh. yikes. The town put him in prison, but conditions were so bad Boo's Dad brought him home and didn't let him leave, except at night.

Newly re-located to the little neighborhood, Jem, Scout, and Dill all peer at the Radley home and wonder about the mysterious locked up lunatic that only walks the neighborhood when the sun has been tucked into bed and the moon keeps a dim eye on things for her.

Old movie, black and white and lots of night footage and a character that only shows up at the end behind Jem's bedroom door!



The actor, Robert Duvall's impersonation of the young man forced by his father to stay inside the creepy Radley home,



a recluse, held hostage from the rest of the small town society because of his unpredictable behaviour, was DEAD ON Scary.

Little Jem and Scout all dressed up for a Halloween pageant, walking home sends shivers up my spine. The old school house out in Osgood (out cropping farm land west of IF.) built up my anxiety about "old school" Halloween parties. Set out in the country. Creaking building. Smelling of chalk and old wood mixed mixed with the polish coupled together with that eeriness built up by movies.... pure creep for me.

Scout trapped in a restricting ham costume, with 3 inches of a rectangular cut out for her to see but limiting her overall vision, clumsily walking along a dirt path for home was spooky. Then to happen upon a drunk man ticked off that my good looking attorney father was defending a black man,



during a time period of major racial tension, whose daughter had been caught flirting with the black man, Tom Robinson; was just plain horrifying!

Filled with anger, hate and vengeance the drunk lies waiting in the brush for the children of lawyer, widower, and dashing Atticus Finch.....



"Old school" Halloween pageants are spooky by themselves especially in "old schools". Like the one out in Osgood, just west of IF, Idaho. Add losing your mom like Scout, livin' through the Great Depression in the south with all its tumultuous times along with a mysterious man that is holed up in his house.........

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Heck, even the parallels that tom boy, Scout, has with Dill, brings to light the differences with women and men and when they start; age six. Dill's promise to be her companion for life but hangin with her brother, Jem, more than her; ignites the 6 year old to beat poor Dill to a pulp. Which resonates with poor J's girls woes at school.

I had to bolt to the library and get the last copy of Harper's book and rent the video to show J. Not only will it answer his question to me the other day about why girls are so vicious and then sweet with his but it will surely scare him!!!!!!!!!

(author side note: he watched it and said: "That wasn't scary." humph. kids these days.)

These days we don't make kids go to churches and old town meeting halls to have Halloween pageants. Parking lots, maybe, for safe Trunk or Treating. They are lucky to have parents accompany them and x-ray all the candy they've received, wearing their store bought costumes.

When J complained that we weren't Halloween Festive, I had to tell him that in the old days, a picture in the window and the school crafts he brought home were all we had to have a 'Happy Halloween'.

Now we have to compete with with lights, graves, and ghost ornaments hanging from tress. Sam's Club peddles blow up decorations used to only be seen at auto dealerships. It causes kids to feel oppressed with their meager Xbox, Guitar Hero and Ipod.

So days until the spooky day, my guilt ridden heart motivated me to try and do just that, make us happy halloweeners.




But by Wednesday the ghost of Halloween present was waning. I listened to the incessant costume woes of a 2nd grader, in a Dr.'s office none the less, the child was mauling the chair, blanketing me and my magazine and flailing on the exam table-- all along begging me to answer: "What am I going to be for Halloween?"

Under our limited options and the sad fact the Jedi costume didn't come into fruition, I was horrified as well. Thankfully, the nurse came in, notified me they were out of butterfly needles (the small ones for your hand veins and diverted J a moment as he watched me bristle at the horse needle she brought out.

Inside I grincheshly started to loathe the holiday. Single mom, limited resources, child born in age of store bought costumes; sinking into me like that straw into my vein. I tried to read a magazine whilst the begging commenced again.

When I tried to convince him that wearing last year's costume which was worn at Dad's in a different state, and putting the holiday ordeal into an eternal perspective; fell on deaf ears.

He countered with convincing evidence: falling limp- like onto the floor and groveling.

Sooooo... I made him work. If we couldn't have his Jedi costume made in time, we would have to improvise, just like in the old days!The spooky spirit revived in me and we headed home to get to work!

While he mowed the neighbor's lawn for dinero we found that she had some items to pull together a costume that he will be uncomfortable in while at school all day.

We finished up as the last star light finally reached earth. Thankfully, our stomach es took in a hot cooked meal; Funeral Casserole, unknowingly made for the holiday by Madre. When I asked a sibling to pass the Funeral potatoes, J said: "These potatoes are dead?"

He ate likety -split and was ready to go to Halloween City with his money to buy a hat. "Want to come Poppa?" J asked excitedly as the clock neared 7:30; past my bedtime.

"Nah, those places scare me." he replied and pulled the WSJ up to eye level.

So we drove across town to Halloween World, picked the perfect Pirate hat, stood in line for 20 minutes and he plunked down his money for the hat. Wearily, we drove home, set out his costume and slept like the dead.

MOrning came and I knew we'd need time to put his costume together so I woke him up early:

"Well, come on Cinderella! We've got to get you ready for the ball!" I said excitedly. (Watch Dumb and Dumber)



he shot out of bed like it was Christmas morning.

By 6:30 he had a gold hoop dangling from his ear, an old bandana of mine with a red zorro mask tied to the side so as to dangle like Cap'n Jack Sparrow. He finally agreed to wear a white dress shirt. The first time in months. (he hates church clothes) But with the button undone, sleeves and denim jeans rolled, waste sashed in red and belted with gun holster; he was ready to mop the galley.

He opted out of facial paint which the school said to avoid any "obscurruing make-up" which confused me, but J flinched at the idea of me putting chest hair and a goatee on his chin with an eye-brow pencil. He obviously has not got the true Halloween spirit.



I thought I could enjoy making breakfast and quizzing him on his spelling words, but no. He was too busy whining about WANTING to go to school! It wasn't even 7 yet!


This attitude did give him the perfect pirate personality: onery, AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGH



Improvising to buy time of peace and quiet I carefully placed lil sis's chincy parrot on his shoulder and snapped a few pics to remember the holdiday fun.



While wearing an apron to avoid spillage J at french toast from a spider web plate, put on his coat and hat and raced out the door like a flurry of leaves in the Idaho wind smelling of maple syrup.

I poked my head out and talked to him till he was passed the Bradley's scary yard with it's Grim Reaper,



etc. ONce the I could close the door I let out a sigh of relief. However, I had to decide what to be for school! Where is Cinderella's fairy Godmother when you need her!

She magically appeared, sprinkled some dust on us renegades and I ended up a Boarding School Teacher.


Or I liked the nice compliment Cubby, a sorta sibling said to me: "You looked like Nicole Kidman in: The Others, Amanda!"

Why, that was the nicest compliment- seriously. My pale face looking even somewhat like the woman who suffocated her children and was stuck in some spirit prison in the house they lived in suffering with amnesia, well, made me almost cry.



Rapping the naughty child's knuckles!



All the hard work, sweat and tears paid off once we hit the Bradley's house. The mannequin that has stood menacing day and night in their yard made the children shy to go and get candy but when I offered J 5 bucks to go touch it with his sword and he gathered the bravado and some Capn' Jack fortitude to slash at Grim only to have Reap sweep his sword down at him and chase him, wulp I had to grin and it turned out to be a: