Today was the day of the trial. I was extremely nervous as I walked into the courtroom to see hundreds of white faces glaring at me and hundreds of black faces looking down on me with the sympathy a person would have for a deceased loved one. They must’ve known that the case was hopeless. The only chance I had was Atticus getting me through this, or Mayella by telling the court what really happened on that day. I sat down in my chair beside Atticus, shaking. I placed my right hand on the table, and let my crippled left hang to the side of me. Mr. Tate was the first called to testify. He didn’t mention me once in his testimony, which relieved me. He only spoke about how Mayella had bruises on the right side of her face, and hand marks around her neck. Because he didn’t say my name or see me at the Ewell house, I felt more confident. This was only temporary, though. Mr. Ewell was called up to present his story next. I began to sweat. I knew of Mr. Ewell’s personality, and he had seen me run from his home. I was definitely not expecting a positive outcome. I was so nervous now. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I prayed silently that he would tell the truth...
I heard him finish the vow with “…so help me God” and grew even more anxious. The only comforts I had now were Atticus and Mayella. I knew Mayella very well. She was a right nice, honest girl. Mr. Gilmer began questioning Ewell, asking him simple things like “Are you the father of Mayella Ewell?” and “Is this your first time in court?” These questions, though, only made my anxiety worse. The longer this trial took the more nervous and anxious I’d get. When Mr. Gilmer asked Ewell what happened on the night of November twenty-first, Ewell responded with saying he was coming home from the woods before sundown with firewood and heard Mayella scream. He said he ran as quickly as he could to the window and said he saw “that black nigger yonder ruttin’ on my Mayella!” His statement both nauseated me and made me angry beyond belief. How could he say that? I would never take advantage of anyone, yet alone Mayella. He continued to get questioned, and, with every answer he gave, I grew angrier. He said when he saw the room Mayella and I were in, it was “slung about, like there was a fight” and he tried to come in the house, but said that I ran out the front door, but he didn’t chase me because he was too distracted by Mayella. He then said he ran for the sheriff as quick as he could. I was really upset by his testimony. He didn’t tell the truth one bit. I was growing angrier until Atticus came and asked Ewell questions. He asked if Ewell ran for a doctor, and he said no. He then asked if Ewell agreed with the sheriff’s description of Mayella’s injuries. He said he did. Atticus also asked a question that confused me. He asked if Mr. Ewell could read and write. He said he could. Atticus asked him to write his name on the envelope and he did. I didn’t think this was a very relevant question until Atticus pointed out that Mr. Ewell wrote with his left hand. This gave me a new hope. I was more excited than anything at the moment. This one piece of evidence alone could prove that I couldn’t hurt Mayella, but her daddy could’ve. (He had a history of drinking and anger and I had heard of him abusing his children before)
Finally, Mayella was called to testify. I was relieved at this because she was there and knew what happened. After asking where she was, why she was scared of Atticus, and how old she was, Mr. Gilmer asked her what happened. I was very happy because I just knew she’d tell the truth; Mayella was a right good person. She said she was on the porch and I came along and she asked me to bust up a chiffarobe. I sat in stunned silence. She did not ask me at all to bust up a chiffarobe. Well, not then anyway. In the spring of last year she had. This time, though, she asked me to take a look at a door hinge. She then said that she turned around in the house to go get me a nickel, and then all of a sudden I was behind her. This wasn’t true either. She was leading me to the door she needed me to look at. After, she said…I got her around the neck and I was swearing and saying dirt and that I hit her over and over again…I would never ever lay a hand on Miss Mayella. What really happened was she asked me to get something off the top of another chiffarobe and she grabbed me from behind, hugging me. She kissed me and said something like “kiss me, nigger. I’ve never kissed a grown man before and what my daddy does doesn’t count.” I just looked at her then; she seemed unable to stare me in the face. I couldn’t believe how much of a liar she was being. She was never like this. The final question she was asked was if I had taken advantage of her and she said yes I had. She also said she tried to fight back. I was the one being kissed against my will and she was saying this…is was hurtful after the friendship we developed. I just stopped listening at that point on. I was too shocked…
When it was my turn, I was terrified of being ridiculed and ridiculously confused as to why Mayella would do that. I gave my whole side of the story. From how she asked me to come inside to check on a door hinge, to when she kissed me, to when I ran. When Atticus asked why I ran, I simply said “Sir, if you were a nigger like me, you’d be mighty scared too.” Mr. Gilmer questioned me next. I was very scared of him; he was intimidating. He asked me how long my previous sentence was, if I was strong enough to choke a girl, why I helped Mayella, and why I ran. Every answer that I gave, he’d contradict me and argue with me. He’d come up with some reason why I couldn’t have just helped Mayella out of friendliness. It was terrible…
The trial finally ended. It was up to the jurors to prove that I was innocent. I was feeling mighty down after Mr. Gilmer…but Atticus kept my spirits up. He was with me throughout this whole ordeal, after all.
It was very late in the night when the jury reached a verdict. I had been found guilty. I was very upset, though not surprised. I was one black man against a jury of white folk. There was no way I stood a chance, even with Atticus defending me. I knew this was the end for me. I only wished people could see me as a regular person and not just a black man. The trial was completely unfair, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time…