fingers went to her mouth to try to stop it. “ Your father’s no better than the niggers and trash he works for.”I think for that second, my heart stopped. Scout nearly cut off the circulation in my hand. I let all the anger build up inside of me as I grabbed Scout and continued to town. She kept looking up at me with a confused, horrified look on her face. I kept on moving. We got to town and I bought the steam engine I had been wanting. I did not really care, just tossed it in my pocket like a gum wrapper. We went by Elmore’s for Scout’s baton that she had been longing for. I could not think of anything. I was not mentally there. I don’t think any part of me was there, except my body.As we were passing Mrs. Dubose’s empty porch and gate, I lost it. With as much force as I could I yanked Scout’s baton from her and ran wildly up the wicked lady’s steps into her yard forgetting everything I knew. There was not a thought in my mind about what Atticus had taught me about being a gentleman, or the kind of pistol Mrs. Dubose carried in her shawl.I did not stop until I had cut the top off every sickeningly beautiful camellia bush the old hag owned. As the ground collected green buds and leaves, I bent and cracked Scout’s baton in half on my knee. She was wailing after that, so like the mad man I was being I grabbed her by the hair and told her if she did not shut up I would pull it all out of her head. She did not cease, so I kicked her so she fell on her face. I helped her up as gently as I could but even that was hard. Hurting her was the only thing I regretted out of my entire episode.We continued home as not even a small hint of regret, guilt, sorrow, or sympathy went through my head. When we got inside, it seemed as if Calpurnia knew exactly what had happened. I sat numb, neither Scout nor I making the choice to meet Atticus that day. She tried to cheer me up...
