Gathered in the courtroom, we sat waiting for Judge Taylor. Although everybody knew why we were here, nobody cared to tell me the reason as to what we were doing in the courtroom. I sat with Atticus’ arm around my shoulder, shivering due to the cold draft coming in from the open door. As I looked around the room, I observed that there were only a few less than a dozen people, a small amount, especially for the town courtroom.
“Atticus Finch, stand up.” Judge Taylor’s voice boomed through the courtroom, awakening people from their ‘Sunday daze’, as Atticus liked to call it. Atticus stood up, removing his arm from my shoulder, and placed his thumbs in the pockets of his suit as he walked towards the front of the courtroom.
“Yes, Judge Taylor?”
“Mr. Finch, may I ask if you think you hold any prejudice?” I frowned slightly as Judge Taylor’s tone; he asked the question as if he knew it could frighten Atticus, although it didn’t.
“I don’t believe that I hold much prejudice, in fact, I may not hold any at all.” Atticus leaned against the railing behind him, a railing that would normally hold the jury, but instead they were sat with everybody else.
“Jean Louise Finch,” all heads turned to face me, “do you believe your father, Atticus Finch, holds prejudice?” Although I understood the question fully, I couldn’t conclude an answer. Atticus is my father, and I’m his daughter. Would I be breaking his trust if I said ‘yes’? It took Judge Taylor two more times of asking the same question to finally receive my answer.
“Sir, Atticus ain’t prejudiced. At least I don’t think so…” I looked down at my feet, unsure of my answer. Was Atticus prejudiced?
“Jeremy Atticus Finch.” This time, the judge turned to Jem, and so did everybody else. “Do you think your father is prejudiced?” Jem’s eyes shifted to Calpurnia’s, looking for an answer. Her head tilted towards his ear, and she whispered something incoherent. Jem nodded and looked up at Judge Taylor with a bit of confidence....