Remembrance: A Nostalgic Look at Friendships Past

I’ve known this day was coming for months. Yet, I’ve no idea how to feel about it. The late Mrs. Ewell was my best friend when we were young. Close as two can be, Elizabeth and I were. That doesn’t hide the fact that Thomas’s practically raised me. Mrs. robinson was a kid herself when she had Tom, but she raised him well from her practice from me. Memories of both women flooded my mind. Someone in the back of my head murmurs about right wounds and left hands, I think nothing of it. I glance at Atticus and my focus shifts. He has been there since before I can remember. Neighbors when we were younglings, friends also. He is four years my senior, so being an only child made me think of him as a brother. Ever since we were little I have trusted him. He’s always been stable to me and I had a gut feeling he was always right. My suspicions were confirmed when he disapproved of my husband, who evidently ran away with some babe of twenty-two and my mother’s gold

Perhaps Bob is left-handed. Perhaps Mayella’s bruises were on the right side of her. That would suggest that Bob hurt Mayella, not Tom. Everyone suspects Bob abusing the poor thing as such. Tom’s left arm is also impaired. That would close the case if this were a fair trial. Nevertheless, this case is everything but fair. This isn’t a case of Person versus Person, this is White versus Black. Regardless of Atticus’s defenses, this case will end one way, and one way only. The next thing I knew the jury was getting up to discuss the defendant. Mr. Adams was the first to speak, “The negro’s guilty.” he said blantly. A few heads noded in agreement. I shook my head at the inevitability of our verdict. Faces turned to me, a twinkle of unease in their eyes. I took that as a signal to express my opinion, so I