Summary Of To Kill A Mockingbird Alternate Ending

Coming back to the courtroom from home couldn’t have taken longer. I was anxious to get back even though it was sweltering in the building. We were gone for about an hour. I wanted to know everything that had happened. Luckily Reverend Sykes had saved our spots. Hardly anyone had moved since we left.
I asked Reverend how long the jury had been out.
He said, “ ‘Bout thirty minutes. Mr. Finch and Mr. Gilmer did some more talkin’, and Judge Taylor charged the jury.”
“How was he?” I asked.
“What say? Oh, he did right well. I ain't complainin’ one bit - he was mighty fair-minded. He sorta said if you believe this, then you'll have to return one verdict, but if you believe this, you’ll have to return another one. I thought he was leanin’ a little to our side.” Reverend Skyes scratched his head.
I was glad to hear this and it let me have some relief, but I still said, “He's not supposed to lean,
Reverend, but don't fret, we want it. I don't see how the jury could have convicted on what we heard,’’ with a smile on my face.
“Now don't be so confident, Mr. Jem, I ain't ever seen a jury decide in favor of a colored man over a white man.”
Jeez, can’t you have any hope, I was ‘bout to say. I disagreed with this; I really wanted to see Tom go free. I also know a lot about rape and wanted to share my wisdom, “It wasn’t rape if she let you, and Mayella was nineteen. Apparently you had to kick and holler, you had to be overpowered and stomped on, preferably knocked stone cold. If you were under eighteen, you didn't have to go through all this.”
“Mr.
Jem, these ain't polite things for ladies to hear,” Reverend snapped back.
“Aw, she doesn't know what we're talkin’ about. Scout, this is too old for you ain't it?” I said, hoping that she would play along and say she was too young, so she could still listen in on our conversations.
But of course she had to sound bigger than her britches and said, “It most certainly is not, I know every word you're saying.”
I just decided to stop. I asked Reverend, “What time is it?”
“Gettin’ on toward eight,” he responded.
I don't know why, but that started to get me nervous. What was taking them so long? Perhaps they knew that Tom was innocent and were just making sure that he was, and not come out with the wrong verdict and put the white man in jail when of black should’ve. Or they might just think it’s taking too long so let's put the colored man in jail and no one would think anything of it. My heads started to spin. I started to pace and move around trying to comfort myself. I went over all the things we heard in court that would make Tom free, assuring myself that he wasn't
guilty.
After a while I decided to go sit down next to Dill to see what he thought, but whenever I asked him a question he just answered with, “mmm or ya.” I saw that he was tired and let him be. I was getting sleepy myself but didn’t want to miss a single thing. I started to try and distract myself from sleeping by looking around the room watching the people and what they were all doing. Mothers making sure their babies were fine or fast asleep with them. Most everyone was sitting still waiting. There were two groups of men softly talking. A few went out for a smoke. I started to wonder how Mr. Robinson would be feeling ‘bout now but I got too tired and closed my eyes.
I woke up not even an hour later. I looked around and saw things were the same. I wasn't nervous anymore that they were taking long because I knew that they had to have been trying to show Tom’s innocence. Scout didn't seem as happy, she asked, “Ain't it been a long time?” “Sure is,” I said feeling like they already called Tom’s innocence.
“Well, from the way you put it, it’d just take five minutes,” she said.
I knew she wouldn't know what was going on but didn’t feel like going into detail.
I told her, “There are things you don't understand.”
Mr. Heck Tate walked into the room and Atticus went over to talk to him. Mr. Tate did most of the talking while Atticus listened. Then a small movement made me feel sick. Atticus ran his hand slowly down his thigh. I didn’t know what this meant but it didn’t look good. Mr. Tate went to the stand and called, “This court will come to order.” Heads bobbed up and backs straightened as they were getting ready to listen. Mr. Tate left and returned with the defendant and placed him next to Mr. Finch. They stood side by side as the swiftly moving jurors came into their box. I started losing hope again. From what Atticus has told me, I knew that the jury never looks toward the guilty man. Not a single person from the jury looked at Tom. I started to feel sick like I was the one on trial, like it was my life that was now on the line. My heart started to beat even faster than before. I placed my hands on the railing. Judge Taylor was polling the jury; my eyes were glued on the jury. Guilty....guilty...guilty…. my heart stopped beating and I twitched as if I was stabbed at each guilty.
Then a sudden rage and sadness came into me. How could someone do this? It was complete racism. How could God let this happen to an innocent man? I wanted to go kick and scream and run and punch the walls or trees outside. I knew my dad wouldn’t be proud of that so I tried to get my anger out by squeezing the railing. I couldn't show weakness. After all my dad has done for Maycomb and this case, I had to prove to him I am strong.