Chapter 21 Chapter 21

Calpurnia stood timidly outside the fence, waiting for Judge Taylor to notice her.She wore a clean apron and held an envelope in her hand. Judge Taylor spotted her and said, "Isn't this Calpurnia?" "It's me, sir," she said. "May I give this letter to Mr. Finch, please? It has nothing to do with . . . this case." Judge Taylor nodded, and Atticus took the envelope from Calpurnia.After he opened it and read it, he said: "Judge, I... this is from my sister. She said that my two children have disappeared and have been missing since noon... I... can you... ..."

"I know where they are, Atticus," exclaimed Mr. Underwood, "they're sitting in the black stands on the second floor--since one-eighteen in the afternoon, to be exact. there." Our father turned and looked upstairs. "Come down, Jem," he called, and then said something to the judge that we didn't hear.We stepped over Reverend Sykes and through the crowd to the stairs. Atticus and Calpurnia waited downstairs.Calpurnia looked annoyed, Atticus just looked tired. Jem jumped up and down with excitement. "We won, didn't we?" "I don't know," Atticus said curtly. "You've been here all afternoon? Go home with Calpurnia and have dinner—and stay home."

"Oh, Atticus, let's come back," begged Jem. "Please, let's come back for the verdict." "The jury will probably come back soon after going out for a while, no one can tell..." Atticus's attitude was seen to be a little more relaxed, "Well, since you've all heard it, it doesn't hurt to listen to the rest. That's it. Well, you go home first, and come back after supper--go ahead and eat slowly, you won't miss anything important--and if the jury isn't back by then, you can wait with the others. But I hope it's all over before you come back."

"You reckon they'll be acquitted in court soon?" Jem asked. Atticus opened his mouth to answer, but shut it again and walked away. I secretly prayed that Reverend Sykes would save us seats, but then I realized that people would get up and swarm out after the jury was gone, so I stopped praying.Grocery stores, diners, and hotels are bound to be full tonight, unless those people bring their dinner along. Calpurnia ushered us home, babbling, "...I want to skin you all alive! Look at this shitty idea, you little bastards, hear all that stuff in your ears Don't you know, Mr. Jem? How can you take your little sister to trial? Miss Alexandra will have a stroke if she finds out! Children are not fit to listen to that..."

The street lights came on, and we passed under them, glancing at Calpurnia's angry profile as we walked. "Mr. Jem, I thought you had some brains--look at your bad idea, she's your little sister! Look at your bad idea, sir! You should be so ashamed--don't you Any brains?" I was overjoyed at this moment.With so much going on at once, I think it'll take years to sort it out, plus Calpurnia's calling out her doting Jem for nothing - who knows what miracles will happen tonight ? Jem chuckled and said, "Calpurnia, don't you want to hear it?" "Shut your mouth, sir! You should be too ashamed to hold your head up and have a smile on your face..." Calpurnia threatened Jem with her old routine again, but Jem did not arouse remorse, and walked away. As they went up the front steps, she pulled out her classic line: "I can't spare you if Mr. Finch doesn't settle with you—come in, sir!"

Jem entered the room with a smile on his face, and Calpurnia nodded to Dill without saying a word, as a tacit consent to have dinner with him. "You call Miss Rachel right away and tell her where you are," she said to Dill. Lydian." Aunt Alexandra saw us and nearly fainted when Calpurnia told us where we were.I guess she was even more distressed when she learned that Atticus had allowed us to go back to the courtroom, because she didn't say a word during the meal, she just moved the food on the plate and watched Yu Weiwei with concern. Calpurnia brought food to me, Jem, and Dill.Calpurnia poured us milk, put potato salad and ham on each of our plates, and grumbled, "No shame," softly and loudly.Finally, she gave an order: "Eat slowly."

Reverend Sykes reserved a seat for us anyway.We were amazed to find that we had been gone for nearly an hour; and we were equally astonished that the courtroom was almost as it had been when we had left it, with only minor changes: the jury box was empty, the accused had left, Judge Taylor wasn't there either, but he showed up as soon as we sat down. "Everybody hardly moved," said Jem. "After the jury left, they went back and forth for a while," Reverend Sykes told us. "The men downstairs bought the women supper, and they fed the dolls." "How long have they been gone?" asked Jem.

"It must have been about thirty minutes. Mr. Finch and Mr. Gilmore said some more, and then Judge Taylor addressed the jury." "How is he?" added Jem. "What's your question? Oh, he's done it right. I can't fault it--he's been fairly fair. What he's saying is, if you believe this, then you've got to give a verdict accordingly; if You believe that, and you'll have to give another verdict. I think he's leaning a bit on our side..." Reverend Sykes scratched his head. Jem smiled knowingly. "Pastor, he's supposed to be impartial. But don't worry, we've won." He said with worldly vigor, "Based on what we've heard, I don't think any jury can decide The plaintiff is guilty..."

"Mr. Jem, you can't be too confident now. I've never seen a jury decide for a black man against a white man..." Jem was very disapproving of what Reverend Sikes said, and we were all forced to listen to Jem's tirade again.Based on his knowledge of rape-related laws, he analyzed the testimony and evidence in this case: If the woman is willing, it is not considered rape, but she must be at least eighteen years old. Rules—Majella was nineteen years old.Of course, the victim has to be kicked and yelled, and must be completely subdued by the opponent, unable to fight back, and in the best case, knocked unconscious.None of this is considered if the victim is under eighteen.

"Mr. Jem," Reverend Sykes objected, "it's not appropriate to say these words in front of a little girl..." "Oh, she can't understand what we're talking about," said Jem. "Scout, don't you have any idea at all?" "Of course not. I caught every word you said." I guess I said it too convincingly, because Jem stopped there and never brought up the subject again. "What time is it, Reverend?" Jem asked. "It's almost eight o'clock." I looked downstairs and saw Atticus pacing up and down with his hands in his pockets.He walked slowly past the windows and walked along the fence to the jury box.He looked into the box, then at Judge Taylor sitting on the throne, and then walked back to the starting place.I waved to him as he looked over.He nodded slightly, responded to my greeting, and continued to pace.

Mr. Gilmore was standing at the window talking to Mr. Underwood.Court reporter Potter, with his feet on the table, smoked one cigarette after another. Still, Atticus, Mr. Gilmore, Judge Taylor, who was drowsy, and Porter, the court reporter, were among the normal-looking people present in the courtroom.I have never seen a courtroom so packed that it can be so quiet.Occasionally, I could hear a baby crying irritably, and I saw a child running out in a hurry, but the adults were all sitting upright, just like in a church.In the stands, the black people around us either stood or sat, with complete reverence and patience. The old clock on the county government building was wound up to strike the hour, and the ensuing eight strokes were so deafening that our bones were shaken to pieces. By the time the big clock struck eleven, I was so drowsy that I could no longer fight against drowsiness, and let myself doze off comfortably on Reverend Sykes' shoulder.I woke up suddenly. In order to keep myself awake, I forced myself to look downstairs and concentrated on studying the heads. I found that there were sixteen bald heads, fourteen people could be counted as redheads, and forty people could be counted as redheads. Personal hair is somewhere between brown and black, and... I recall Jem saying to me in a short psychological study that if there were enough people—let's say a gymnasium full, everyone would Concentrate on one thing—let's say set a tree on fire in the woods, and that tree will really burn.On a whim, I silently beg everyone downstairs to focus on the acquittal of Tom Robinson; but then I figured it wouldn't work if they were as tired as I was up. Dill was fast asleep with his head on Jem's shoulder, and Jem sat quietly. "Has it been a long time?" I asked him. "Of course, Scout," he replied beaming. "But, according to what you said, five minutes is enough." Jem raised his eyebrows. "There are things you don't understand," he said.I was so sleepy that I really didn't have the energy to argue with him. But I must have been quite awake then, or the impressions of that night would not have crept into my memory.This impression is somewhat similar to last winter, although it was a sweltering summer night, I actually shivered.The feeling grew stronger and stronger, until the atmosphere in the courtroom was as bleak as that cold February morning: the robins were silent, the carpenter who built Miss Maudie's new house stopped knocking, and every neighbourhood. The neighbors are all locked up like the Radleys.The empty streets looked deserted and waiting, and the courtroom was packed.This steaming summer night turned out to be no different from a winter morning.Mr. Heck Tate was back in court, talking to Atticus.He may have been wearing high leather boots and a bomber jacket afterwards.Atticus stopped pacing peacefully up and down, put one foot on the bottom rung of his chair, and slowly stroked his thigh up and down as he listened to Mr. Tate.I waited eagerly for the words to come out of Mr. Tate's mouth: "Mr. Finch, take him away..." However, what Mr. Tate said was: "Ready to start the court." His voice was majestic, and the heads downstairs suddenly lifted up.Mr. Tate left for a moment and returned to the courtroom with Tom Robinson.He made Tom sit down beside Atticus while he stood aside.Judge Taylor was startled, and sat upright all of a sudden, looking at the empty jury box. What happened next was like a dream: I watched as the jurors returned to the courtroom as if they were swimming underwater.Judge Taylor's voice sounded so faint, as if it came to me from afar.What only a lawyer's kid might see, fear seeing, was like watching Atticus walk up the street, raise his rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and pull the trigger, but seeing During all this, I knew very well in my heart that there were no bullets in the gun. If the jury verdicts are guilty, they don't even look at the defendant.When the jury came in, not one of them looked at Tom Robinson.The foreman handed a piece of paper to Mr. Tate, who passed it to the clerk, who in turn handed it to Judge Taylor... I closed my eyes.Judge Taylor asked each juror one by one for his opinion on the verdict: "Guilty... Guilty... Guilty... Guilty..." I stole a peek at Jem: his hands clutching the railing turned white, and his shoulders shrugged. Yes, as if every "guilty" stabbed him like a knife. Judge Taylor was saying something in his mouth. He held the gavel in his hand, but he didn't knock it down.Dimly, I saw Atticus put the papers on the desk into the briefcase, snap it shut, then go to the court reporter, say something, nod to Mr. Gilmore, go to Tom Rubin He stood beside him, put his hand on his shoulder, and whispered something to him.Atticus took his coat from the back of the chair, threw it over his shoulders, and left the courtroom, but this time he took an unusual exit.He walked quickly up the middle aisle leading to the south gate, and it seemed that he was definitely trying to take a shortcut home.My eyes followed the top of his head as he walked toward the door.He never raised his head to look upstairs. Someone poked me, but I didn't want to take my eyes off the crowd downstairs, Atticus walking alone in the hallway. "Miss Jean Louise?" I looked around and saw that they were all on their feet.All around us, and in the stands across the way, all the Negroes stood up.Reverend Sykes' voice seemed to come from as far away as Judge Taylor's: "Miss Jean Louise, stand up. Your father is coming."