The Land

by Mildred D. Taylor

  “Now, Sam Perry here,” said Luke Sawyer after the introductions, “come to see you ’bout making him a piece of furniture.”

  “That’s right,” said Sam Perry. “Heard ’bout you, seen some of yo’ work too. It’s mighty fine.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Seems he thinks it’s so fine,” Luke Sawyer interjected, “that he’s thinking on having you make his wife a rocking chair.”

  Caroline hooked her arm into her father’s. “Mama’s been wantin’ a really fine one for the longest time, ain’t she, Papa?”

  “That’s a fact,” Sam Perry confirmed with a loving glance at his daughter. “Sho’ has. Had an old rickety one ’til a few years back, and I kept mendin’ it best I could, but finally wasn’t no more I could do with it but chop it up for firewood. Now I figures t’ get her one made, if we can come t’ some understandin’.”

  “And it’s got t’ have tiny little flowers painted on it,” specified Caroline, “right ’cross the back top of it on the headboard. I seen a rocker like that once, and it was sure pretty.”

  I looked at her. “I’m afraid I don’t do that kind of paint work.”

  “Well, I do.”

  I liked her outspokenness, but I frowned. “You’ll do it?”

  “Yes, suh. When you get finished with yo’ part, I’ll do mine.”

  I was silenced.

  “Well, before we go to talking about any decorations, we best get us an agreement about price first,” said Luke Sawyer, always the businessman. With that, he and Sam Perry got down to the specifics of the wood and style of the chair. Luke Sawyer asked me how long I figured it would take to make the rocker. I told him, and then he and Sam Perry began to haggle price. Now, Luke Sawyer always set his price within fair limits, though a little high because most folks, when it came to having something made, didn’t like set prices. They liked to bargain so they could have some say-so and feel in the end that they had themselves a fair deal. When an agreement was reached, they felt good about the price and figured they’d gotten themselves a bargain and were happy.

  I always stayed out of this part of the transaction. I listened and learned from Luke Sawyer, just as I had learned from my daddy, but both Luke Sawyer and I were in agreement that haggling price was his domain. I noticed, though, that the young lady, Caroline, took great interest in the price debate and greatly influenced her father in the terms he was asking. She stood right by his side and shook her head at Luke Sawyer’s price demands and backed her daddy up with a nod when he pointed out the unreasonableness of each price Luke Sawyer set and countered with a price of his own. I smiled, amused, then moved away and sat again at my bench. I picked up a table leg I was sanding and went back to work.

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  I looked up. It was the boy, Nathan. He was staring curiously at the table leg.

  “Doing some sanding to make this table leg smooth as possible. I’ll do the same with the other legs too, then attach them to the tabletop over there.”

  Nathan moved closer and ran his fingers along the wood. “Sho’ is smooth. How you do that?”

  “With sanding paper,” I said. “It’s quite rough, like sand. Some folks use sand instead of the paper, but I prefer this. You ever used it?”

  Nathan shook his head.

  “Then try it,” I said, giving him a piece.

  Nathan grinned and took it. He rubbed the rough paper with his fingers and grinned again.

  I smiled. “Why don’t you take that table leg from the shelf there and have a seat on the bench.” Nathan got the leg, and when he was seated, looked at me for further instructions. “Now, just rub the paper over it like this,” I said, continuing my sanding of the table leg I held. “Just a little at a time, back and forth, but go with the grain of the wood and not too hard.”

  Nathan watched me, then timidly began to sand. He did a few motions back and forth, then looked over at me for approval.

  “That’s right,” I said, and went on with my own sanding.

  A few minutes later Luke Sawyer and Sam Perry reached an agreement, and Luke Sawyer went back to his store. Sam Perry and Caroline then came over to the bench. Sam Perry put his wide hands on his hips, and laughed. “Look like ya done took up yo’self a helper.”

  I glanced at Nathan and smiled. “Looks that way.”

  “Let me see,” said Caroline, stooping over the boy’s shoulder to take a look at his work.

  “Feel,” said Nathan. “Right here.” Caroline ran her long fingers over the sanded wood. “Done that with this,” the boy proudly announced as he held out the sanding paper.

  “Umm . . .” Caroline murmured with approval. “Feels good.” Then she felt the paper. “Here, let me see that,” she demanded, but Nathan shrugged his sister away and went back to his sanding. Caroline gave him a soft thump to the back of his head in playful annoyance, then turned to me. “You got another one of these I could try, Mister Paul Logan?”

  I nodded, somewhat taken aback that she’d used my full name in addressing me. I reached for another sheet of sanding paper, but Sam Perry said, “Not today, daughter. We gotta get in that store and get them things yo’ mama wantin’. Come ’long now. You too, son.”

  “But, Papa—” protested Nathan.

  “Son, we been here long ’nough. Mister Logan, he got work t’ do. ’Sides, it’s gettin’ late. Time t’ go.”

  “Come on, boy,” Caroline said to her brother, pulling at his arm, and Nathan reluctantly stood and laid the table leg on the bench. “Thank the gentleman,” she ordered.

  Nathan looked at me with regret at leaving. “Thank ya.”

  Caroline too looked at me. “I’m glad you gonna make my mama’s chair. You do fine work.”

  “Well, thank you,” I said.

  “Remember, though, I’m gonna do them flowers when you finish.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  Sam Perry extended his hand to me, and I stood to shake it again. “My daughter’s right ’bout that,” he said. “Ya does mighty fine work, and I’m gonna be lookin’ forward to that rocker, Mister Logan.”

  “I’ll do my best and hope your wife likes it,” I returned.

  Sam Perry ushered Nathan and Caroline out of the shed before him, but when his own great frame filled the doorway, he turned back and said, “I understand from Mister Luke Sawyer that you a man of color.”

  I met his eyes. The words were almost a question, though they were forthright and without fear. “That’s right.”

  “Then I’d like t’ invite you to our church up at Mount Elam come Sunday next, then have dinner with my family after church. My wife’s a fine cook and we always got plenty.”

  I hesitated, not knowing exactly what to say to his invitation. “Well, I thank you, but I pretty much stay to myself.”

  Sam Perry didn’t seem surprised or put off by my reply. “Understand that. But if you changes yo’ mind, you be welcome any Sunday you choose. All you hafta do is show up. You be welcome.” With that said, he gave me a nod and left.

  I sat again on my bench thinking on the invitation and on the Perrys, particularly Caroline. Then I picked up the table leg Nathan had been working on and started sanding again.

  By the time the next Sunday rolled around, I had thought aplenty on Sam Perry’s invitation, but I didn’t make up my mind to go until I walked out into the sunshine of that morning. Before Luke Sawyer and his family left for church, I asked Luke Sawyer if I could hire out the palomino. He said I could just take Thunder; he wouldn’t charge me anything. After all, the horse was practically mine. I said I’d rather pay him for the horse. Though I didn’t say it to him, I wanted to keep everything business between us. I didn’t want Luke Sawyer doing me any favors. He told me to suit myself, and I paid him fifty cents for the day.

  Now, if the Mount Elam church had been in walking distance, I would have gladly walked, but I had learned that it was some miles away and I needed a horse to cut the time. But even on horseback the
distance was long, and I found that I had misjudged how long it would take me. I had no intentions of racing Thunder over the badly rutted roads, and the leisurely pace made my arrival at Mount Elam much later than I had intended. Since services had already begun, I chose not to go in, for people were often put off by me at first and I didn’t want to have to explain myself. So instead I dismounted and stood outside listening to the sermon through the open windows. When the services were over, I led Thunder into the woods. I figured to stay there until the churchgoers left, then to head back to town without letting Sam Perry know I had even been at Mount Elam. I found a creek lined with brush. Both Thunder and I drank from the creek, then I sat on the bank gazing out at the water while Thunder grazed. Soon I heard voices nearby. I looked around. Two young women had entered the woods and they were arguing. One of them was Caroline Perry.

  “Listen here, Val,” Caroline said, “I ain’t hardly interested in that little Negro of yours, and if you had any sense, you wouldn’t hardly be interested in him either.”

  “I seen him lookin’ at you!” declared the one called Val.

  “Well, what he do with his eyes just ain’t my business,” stated Caroline.

  “I know you, Caroline Perry! You tryin’ to take my man away from me!”

  “What!”

  “You know it’s the truth!” Val accused.

  “Girl, if you ain’t the silliest—”

  “Well, you can’t have him!”

  “Shoot, child, I don’t want him!”

  “You do so!” thundered Val, then in a rage lurched for Caroline’s massive head of hair.

  Caroline, not caught off guard, promptly grabbed Val’s arm. “Val, girl, don’t you mess with me!” she warned. She thrust the girl back.

  Val chose not to heed the warning. “I’ll mess with you long as you be messin’ with my man!” she vowed, and lunged again at Caroline. Caroline at that move pulled back and, with a right hook as solid as any man’s, knocked the girl right across the jaw. Val fell flat.

  “Now get up!” Caroline ordered. She put her hands on her hips. “And stop actin’ so foolish!” She waited for her orders to be carried out. But Val didn’t get up. She lay there not moving. From where I sat, I couldn’t see if Val’s eyes were open or closed, but I could see the look on Caroline’s face. “Val?” Caroline said, and her voice was changed. “Val!” She knelt over her stricken friend. “ ’Ey, Val . . . Val, you all right? Val!”

  I got up and headed toward them to see if I could help. Caroline turned as I approached, but she said nothing. She just looked at me. I looked down at the girl Val. Her eyes were closed. I checked under her jaw with my fingers and found her pulse was strong. I didn’t figure Val to be bad hurt, just knocked out. I pulled away and said to Caroline, “I think she’ll live.” Now, I don’t know if it was the look on Caroline’s face at that moment or what I had witnessed of this striking young woman that made me tease her, even though I wasn’t a teasing kind of fellow. “You don’t tell, I won’t tell.”

  Caroline glanced at me, finding no humor in my words, then back at the motionless Val. She softly patted at the girl’s face. “Come on, Val, get up. Val, you know I ain’t meant to hurt ya, so you wake up now.” It was an order, and it seemed from her tone she expected to be obeyed, but Val still didn’t move.

  “Maybe a wet, cold cloth might help,” I suggested. I took out my handkerchief, went to the creek and dipped it in. I squeezed out the water and brought the handkerchief back to Caroline.

  “Thank ya,” she said without looking at me as she kept her eyes on her friend. She dabbed the handkerchief over the stricken girl’s face.

  Soon Val began to groan. She sat up slowly with her hand holding her jaw and glared accusingly at Caroline. “What ya do t’ me?”

  “Nothin’ you ain’t deserved,” declared Caroline unremorse-fully. “Here, come on, get up. I’ll help you back t’ the church.” Val stood shakily, without even noticing me, and Caroline put her arms around her waist to support her. Then she looked at me once more. “I’ll let my papa know you here. He’ll be ’spectin’ you for dinner.”

  “No, I wasn’t going to—”

  “He’ll be ’spectin’ you,” she repeated. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and smiled.

  She didn’t smile back. She turned with Val and went back toward the church. I watched them go.

  When I met up with Sam Perry, I told him what I had tried to tell his daughter, that I was heading back to Vicksburg and wouldn’t be staying for dinner. Sam Perry, however, wouldn’t hear of it. “You done come all the way out here and now you leavin’ without Sunday dinner?” he questioned. “No, suh! You comin’ on home with me!”

  I protested, but Sam Perry insisted. Now, I know if I had had a true mind to leave, nothing would have persuaded me otherwise, but the truth was I was wanting to be with a family again. I had been without mine for so long. Sam Perry told me his family had gone on ahead of him to take care of chores, and that he had a bit of church business to settle before he headed home, and he asked me if I didn’t mind waiting. The wait was fine with me, seeing that I was a bit nervous about sitting down to dinner with folks again.

  It took Sam Perry about an hour to finish up at the church, and it was then I learned he was on foot, so I walked too, holding the reins to the palomino. Sam Perry, as soon as he had seen Thunder, looked him over and gave his approval. “Heard ’bout him and them races you and him been winnin.’ He’s a fine horse, all right,” he said. “I know animals, and he’s mighty fine.” For some reason, his approval pleased me.

  As we walked, I found myself very much enjoying Sam Perry’s company. He was a storytelling man, and a good one at that. The minutes passed quickly and almost before I was ready, we were at Sam Perry’s farm. The house was small and had the look of a sharecropper’s shack. There was a shed to one side of it and the two buildings were connected by a breezeway. I figured the smaller structure to be the kitchen. Several long-legged boys sat in the breezeway. “Ya know my boy Nathan,” said Sam Perry. “Them other two is Elliott and Jonah. Boys, this here’s Mister Paul Logan.”

  I nodded at the boys and they did the same toward me.

  “You boys now, y’all come on down and take this fine horse of Mister Logan’s t’ the pasture. Give him some water and feed.”

  The boys hurried to obey their father’s orders. I thanked them, then watched as they led Thunder away.

  “Don’t worry. He be fine,” said Sam Perry. “Pasture’s fenced. That horse, he ain’t goin’ nowheres. My boys take good care of him.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said.

  Sam Perry led me up a path toward the porch. On either side of the path was a multitude of flowers, petunias and snapdragons, marigolds, pansies, and even roses. I stopped to admire them. “They somethin’, ain’t they?” said Sam Perry. “They my wife’s and the Lord’s doin’. Lord sends the seeds, the rain, and the sunshine, and my wife, she do the plantin’ and the tendin’, and she mighty good at it too. She don’t ’low no weeds. Ole weed show his face, he be yanked outa there ’fore he know’d what hit him.” He laughed and motioned toward the porch. “Why don’t you rest yo’self up here a spell. It’d be cooler than inside. I’ll see ’bout gettin’ us somethin’ t’ drink and let my Rachel know ya here.”

  “Well, I thank you,” I said, “but I think I’ll just admire your wife’s flowers a bit longer.”

  “Admire all you want,” said Sam Perry with another laugh. He went into the house and I remained on the pathway taking in the beauty of the garden. The flowers were splendid, planted knowingly to bring out the best of each. The tallest were in back, the most delicate, the smallest in front, and there was a pattern to them, with rows of purples and reds and oranges and yellows arranged in intricate designs. Each side of the flower yard was bordered neatly with stones. The garden made the little shack look almost grand. An artist had been at work here.

  “So, you like flow
ers, do ya, Mister Paul Logan?”

  I turned. Caroline was standing at the side of the house holding a bucket of water. I smiled and tipped my hat. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “Well, good,” she said, “’cause one thing we sho’ got plenty of, it’s flowers. Might not have much else, but we sho’ got plenty of them.” She glanced at the porch. “Papa with you?”

  “Yes. He went inside to let your mama know we’re here.”

  “Then he be back in a minute, I reckon,” Caroline said. She switched the bucket to her other hand as if to alleviate its weight. “I got to carry this bucket on to the back of the house.”

  I moved toward her. “I’ll be happy to carry it for you.”

  “No, sir, thank ya. This water goes to the kitchen, and one thing my mama can’t abide is a lotta folks in her kitchen.” She then looked toward the house and called, “Papa! Papa! You comin’?” She received no response and looked at me again. “You go on up t’ the porch there and wait outa this sun. Papa won’t be long.”

  Her words were an order, and for one so young she seemed mighty sure in giving orders. I tipped my hat to her again and started up the path just as Sam Perry opened the porch door and came out holding two large tin cups. Caroline glanced at me with a smile, then disappeared around the side of the house. I stepped onto the porch and took both the cup and the seat Sam Perry offered, and he sat down beside me. Just about that time several of the Perry children came onto the porch. Two of the youngest, who looked to be about three or four, immediately climbed onto Sam Perry’s lap, while the older ones stood bare-foot, leaning against the posts and staring at me.

  Sam Perry laughed. “I got me quite a houseful, ain’t I? And this here ain’t all of ’em. Got me a baby crawling in the house and another boy older’n Sylvester and Calvin there, and course I got my girls, Callie and Caroline. Now they’s all the ones still at home. Got two others, my oldest boy, Hugh, and my girl Risten, married and on they own. Eleven in all! Got me three grand-babies, and this here’s one of ’em.” He tickled the neck of the little boy sitting on his knee. “This other one here with these big eyes and pretty smile, she’s another one.” He grinned wide and the little girl giggled, then hid her face. Sam Perry laughed.