Essay on Notes On ' Coming Home '
The distinct scent of cigars and smoke burned my nostrils as I made my way along the crowded platform. People surrounded me with dirt-smeared faces as they walked quickly, eager to get home to their families… their perfect families. The station felt like home, I knew every twist and turn, crevasse and corner. I counted how many cracks there were on the weathered stones and waited for the clock to slowly tick to 3 O’clock.
My new father had dropped me off in a hurry, he was glad to get back to his orderly life without me ruining it. He was happy to get rid of my constant nagging: “Pease come play with me,”
“excuse me father, but why won’t you read to me like Atticus does?” My new father was a strange man; he sat by himself all day in his office doing secret business. I wrote to Scout and told her that he was a secret agent working for the president but she didn’t believe me. Instead, she told me about her encounter with Boo Radley, her secluded neighbour. I was upset I wasn’t there to see him, to uncover the mysteries of his past. Her letter was the reason I went back to Maycomb County; Jem broke his arm when Bob Ewell attacked him and Scout. I needed to see Jem, to see if he was okay. My new father and my mother happily agreed.
A speck in the distance caught the iridescent rays of the sunlight. In the vast distance, I saw a red flash moving closer and closer until it appeared, a steaming red train. The doors opened and a flood of people rushed out as I ran…