....Guilty, guilty, guilty. The sound of his gavel pounding onto his desk was like a shot through us kids' hearts. Nah, it didn't make any sense, of course not, but since when did racism make any sense in the first place. There he was, Ol' Tom Robinson, completely innocent and trustworthy of his word, but being punished for sumthin' he didn't do. My sister Scout was tremblin' right next to me and I couldn't blame her. Even though she didn't understand what rape was or nothin', I knew she understood justice and equality and honesty, qualities the Ewells' obviously didn't have...

"Let's go in," Dill said, lookin' around and Scout and I. We were right outside the courthouse, and if we had entered right then and there, Atticus would've caught us and sent us on home. If we were gonna watch the trial at all, we might as well sneak in the right way.

"Let's wait," I replied. "If Atticus catches us he might not like it much." Scout had kept eye contact on the crowd of people trying to crowd into the courthouse, and then looked up at me.

"Alright, let's head in." We jumped into the crowd and tried to make it upstairs. Many of the people were talking but mostly courthouse critics. As they were saying stuff about Atticus being a heavy reader and not doing anything else, I could see Scout eying them suspiciously. I knew what she was thinking about and mostly had to agree with her; I was just surprised that she hadn't opened her mouth about it. We noticed that the seats were all taken and then heard a voice behind us.
"Can you all get in? We can see what to do if we can't."

"Nome," Scout said next to me. "All the seats are taken."

"Yeah, cause ya'll messed up, Scout," I stated matter-of-factly. The reverend rubbed his chin in wonder and then traveled up the stairs. In moments he was back.

"Well, ya'll see, there aren't enough seats downstairs but there are seats in the balcony up yonder." He pointed into the room and up in a balcony filled with negros. A smile came onto our faces, almost as if to say 'thank you' non- verbally.
"Gosh yes!" I replied. "Thank you Reverend Sykes." We all began to head upstairs but then Dill, Scout and I broke into a run and then stopped at the door, waiting for the reverend. Once he had let us in and all the people eyed us, and some people in the front got up and gave us their seats. "Thank you very much," I said trying to sound grown up. They nodded to me with smiles and I took my seat next to Scout and Dill. I peered down to the witness stand and noticed Heck Tate, the town sheriff sitting down and twiddling his thumbs.
"Are those the Ewells?" Scout asked, squinting down into the crowd. I nodded and put a finger up to my lips.

"Hush now Scout. Mr. Heck Tate is testifyin'." Scout nodded as they began to talk below.

"That man, Mr. Bob Ewell had came trudgin' into my office and tellin' me to get to his house. Then be brought up Tom Robinson rapin' his Mayella."

"Did you go along with him?" Mr. Gilmer was the one questioning him.

"Yes sir."

"And what have you found?"

"Well, Mayella was on the floor where you first walk in and she looked pretty beat up. I asked her if she was alright and she said she was. Then, I asked her who did this horrible act and she told me that Tom Robinson had."

"Thank you Mr. Tate," Mr. Gilmer replied with no further questions. Judge Taylor had asked Atticus if he had any questions to ask as well, and he got up from his chair and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his vest. Atticus' eyes averted to Heck Tate.
"Mr. Tate, have you called a doctor? Did anyone call a doctor to see if Mayella would be okay?"

"No sir," he replied.

"Why not?"

"It was obvious that sumthin' had happened, Mr. Finch. There really wasn't any need to." The judge leaned forward in his chair, listening inattentively to the conversation.

"He was already asked that question Atticus, three times."

"I'm just checking, Judge," Atticus said matter-of-factly. "So she was banged up, how so? How badly?"

"Well," Heck Tate began. "She was beaten badly around the head and she had bruises comin' up on her arms. It had happened about thirty minutes before I got there."

Atticus began to ask her more about the injures and then about what eye was black. Heck Tate told him it was her right. Once he was done testifying, Mr. Tate sat in one of the rows.
"Robert E. Lee Ewell, come and swear in," Judge Taylor told him. Bob Ewell looked creepy from where I sat, not someone I would want to mess with. He grudgingly put his hand on the bible and then sat in the witness chair.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"Yessir," he replied as he thuded into his seat. Mr. Gilmer looked at him.

"No obscene speculations, Mr. Ewell, I mean it.

"All right, Mr. Gilmer."

"Very good. Now, tell me what happened the night you found your daughter."

"Well, let's see...I was acomin' in through the woods and I heard screamin' when I came acloser to the fence. I realized it was my Mayella and when I looked through the winda I..saw that nigger on top on my daughter!" Everyone in the courthouse started to talk and Judge Taylor wouldn't have it. He slammed his gavel down a couple of times to disrupt the ruckus. Reverend Sykes who was sittin' behind us tapped my shoulder lightly and said, "Ya'll might wanna take Scout and Dill home. They are all too young to hear what's going on."
"Aw, it's alright Reverend, she don't understand what it means anyway."

"Sure I do," Scout said, buttin' in to our confabulation.

"Hush! Reverend, she ain't even nine yet, has no idea what's going on." We had begun to listen to Bob Ewell lie through his teeth about everything that had supposively happened. Non racist people who were smart enough could see through him like glass, but I should have known that racist people wouldn't care, just as long as it was another black person to go to jail, to get hurt, to die. It was the same when Mayella had come up to the witness stand. She was a good little actress and all, but not one to fool me or anyone in the black balcony. Finally, it had been the moment all of us had waited for; Tom Robinson's testomony. I leaned foward in my chair and rested my elbow on the rail to support my head. Tom had to take his right hand and move his left arm to touch the parchment of the bible. I felt bad for him, mainly because I think he didn't commit the crime at all with his arm bein' paralyzed and all.

Tom Robinson gave an interesting testimony, sumthin' different from the Ewells. He had stated that Mayella had wanted him to fix a door in his house and then basically jumped on him. The truth ran out of his mouth perfectly with no stutter, well, before he had to admit to Mayella tryin' to seduce him. I felt incredibly bad for him, but thought that he'd be okay. But it was when Mr. Gilmer came up to interview him that it all went downhill for poor Ol' Robinson. I could literally believe him when he stated, "if you were a nigger like me, you'd be scared too."
"Robinson, are you good at cuttin' up all them chifforobes; all with one hand too, am I correct?"

"Yes suh, I am."

"So are you also stating that you could sling her to the floor and choke her with one hand as well?"

"I never done that suh, had no intention to ever to sumthin' that cruel."

"So you were bein' polite, were you boy?"

"I reckons so."

"You had your eye on her for a long time, haven't you boy. C'mon spit it out."

"I never looked at her, so no."

"So you done this all for her to be generous. That's mighty kind of you, boy."

"I just felt sorry for her, suh; it didn't look like anyone was there to help her out."

"You what? You felt sorry for her?" Uh-oh, I thought silently in my head. From the corner of my eye I could see Dill cryin' silently.

"Scout, take him on outside."

"But-"

"Go on Scout. If you don't take him out I'll make ya'll do it."

"Just do what your brother is tellin' ya'll to do, Scout. I promise that ya'll ain't missin' nothin' big." They got up from their seats and I continued to listen.

"Can you tell me, Mr. Robinson, why you would feel sorry for Miss. Mayella? If you accusin' her of lyin' you shouldn't feel sorry for her."

"I neva' said she lyin' suh, I jus' think she's got things mixed up." And on went the whole aggravation of Mr. Gilmer against Tom Robinson. I think it was then when the jury could easily pin Tom Robinson as guilty. They had never given him a chance and just judged him by his skin color, and not his character. I just wish that I could have all the answers and change the world in which we live. I just wish that I could end racism all together, but most importantly, I wish I could have saved Tom Robinson.