Free Let the Circle Be Unbroken by Mildred D. Taylor Page A

have no light. I remember reaching for my specs, trying to feel them on the nightstand with my hand, but I was so nervous and Jim Lee was already at the door going into the living room, and I was ’fraid he was goin’ downstairs by hisself.”
    “So you didn’t have on your glasses—which you say you need—and you did have a flashlight, and you started down the stairs—”
    “That’s right.”
    “And did you and your husband go straight down the stairs and into the store—”
    “Yes—”
    “—or did you stop on the stairs, just for a moment or two?”
    “Come to think of it, you know we did stop. That’s when we saw them.”
    “Saw whom?”
    “The nigras.”
    “I see. About how far would you say you were from the intruders? Could you tell us in relationship to the courtroom?”
    Mrs. Barnett frowned again. “’Bout as far back as them middle benches there, I’d reckon.”
    Mr. Jamison nodded. “About twenty feet then.”
    “Yes,” she agreed.
    “And just where were the intruders standing when you first saw them?”
    “Well, one of them was at the gun counter and them other two was by the safe.”
    “You stated previously that one of the intruders struggled with Mr. Barnett and another one hit him from behind with the axe. Now which two men were involved in this? The ones at the safe, or did the one from the counter join in?”
    “It was them two by the safe, but I figure that other one would’ve joined in if he’d’ve gotten a chance.”
    “Just answer the question, Clara,” Judge Havershack said from his bench. “Wade didn’t ask you about what that fella
would’ve
done.”
    Mrs. Barnett heaved an exasperated sigh.
    “It was the two by the safe,” Mr. Jamison repeated. “Did that third person—the one by the gun counter—strike Mr. Barnett at all or attempt to harm him physically in any way?”
    Mrs. Barnett conceded that he had not.
    “Now, Mrs. Barnett, when your husband went down the steps, did he still have the flashlight?”
    “He did. Used it to defend hisself ’gainst them murderers. Dropped it when he fell. Light stayed on though, so’s I was able to see.”
    “Mrs. Barnett, you said that you saw three Negroes. I understand from Dr. Crandon that for many people with uncorrected myopic vision—nearsightedness—everything is blurred from a distance of twenty feet and that they would not be able to define any facial features. Were you able to distinguish the facial features of the intruders?”
    “I know a nigra when I see one!” she snapped.
    “Yes, ma’am, no doubt, but could you describe these particular Negroes to us?”
    “They was black, that’s all I know.”
    “But you did not see their features?”
    “No, I didn’t.”
    “What about other features, such as height? Could you distinguish the height of the intruders at the distance of twenty feet?”
    Mrs. Barnett seemed uncertain.
    “Mrs. Barnett, I wonder if you’d take off your glasses so that we can try a little experiment?”
    Mrs. Barnett turned toward Judge Havershack, a surging rebellion on her face, and Mr. Macabee stood to object.
    “What’s this leading up to, Wade?” asked Judge Havershack.
    “Mrs. Barnett has told us she didn’t have on her glasses. I think that we all need to know just how much she could see.”
    The judge considered. “All right,” he decided. “Take off your glasses please, Clara.”
    Mrs. Barnett let out another sigh and took them off. Mr. Jamison then went down the aisle and spoke to several men seated on a bench near the center of the courtroom. The men stood and came into the aisle; R.W. and Melvin Simms were among them. Mr. Jamison asked Mrs. Barnett if she recognized any of the men. Mrs. Barnett squinted fiercely, but finally admitted she couldn’t see who they were. He then asked if any of the men were the same height as the intruders. She was not to worry, he said, that the men standing were white; they were simply helping out the court. With no