The Land

by Mildred D. Taylor

  I thought on how she’d given the harelipped boy one of her mama’s sweet-potato pies. “I happened to be at Luke Sawyer’s store the day you and your sister brought pies to sell, and you took a little boy’s part who, as you said, was sorely in need of something ‘to make him feel good.’ From the smile on that boy’s face, I think that pie you gave him was just what he needed.”

  Caroline halted and laughed outright. “You was there? You seen that?” She sounded somewhat embarrassed; then, if there was embarrassment, it fled quickly. “Yeah, Henry, he enjoyed that pie, all right.”

  “But what about you? What did your mama have to say about her pie when you got home?”

  “Don’t tell me you done heard that too? You heard me and Callie talkin’ ’bout Mama and that whippin’ I was sure t’ get?”

  I nodded. “Anybody standing near heard it.”

  She laughed again. “’Spect you right. Well, I gotta admit I worried a bit all the way home ’bout how Mama was gonna get after me, but when I got back, she wasn’t so bad. She fussed a lot, mind ya, but then again she always fussin’ ’bout how I’m too much like my papa, always givin’ stuff away and how we never gonna have nothin’ ’cause we ain’t got the good sense t’ realize we poor.” Caroline was still laughing as she ushered me out of the henhouse.

  I gazed out across the pasture, west of the barn, at the cluster of animals. “I’d hardly call you poor.”

  “Well, when it come t’ money we ain’t got much. But we thankful for what we got. What you see out in that there pasture, though, is ’cause of my daddy’s healin’ hands and God’s grace.”

  I nodded, understanding from Mister Perry’s words what she meant.

  “God give him the power in his mind and in his hands t’ heal critters when he was in slavery, and that blessin’ made his life and ours some easier. Fact, his knowin’ healin’ saved him from hangin’ during slavery days.”

  “How was that?” I asked.

  “Well, seems like there was a time my papa tried runnin’ away from that man called hisself his master. He done already run away two times before then when he was still a boy and was so-called belongin’ t’ another man. But he was now property of this man called Perry, and he ain’t run off on him before. Now, this Perry fella thought well of my papa ’cause of all he knew ’bout healin’, and he let my daddy go off his place t’ court my mama, who was livin’ on somebody else’s plantation. Well, on one of those times my daddy went off courtin’, he run away. He was figurin’ t’ get hisself free, then get my mama free. But then the white folks caught up with him and they was ready to hang him, but that ole master wouldn’t let them do it. He said, ‘I need this here boy. He more’n valuable t’ me. He got the healin’ in his hands.’ So them white men whipped my papa, but they ain’t hung him.”

  Caroline looked at me and gave a nod. “That’s a fact. Tell ya somethin’ else ’bout names too. In them slavery days my papa got called by the name of Sam for Samson ’cause he was so strong. White folks, they call him that still, and when he doin’ business, he go by that. But he had hisself a Christian name of Luke, like Jesus’ disciple, and his folks and all the colored folks called him by that, and my mama, when she and my papa was courtin’, she called him Luke too. My papa, he liked that. My mama says my papa’s a healer and he got the blessin’, and she’s right proud of that. Well, what I’m right proud of is, my daddy say of all his younguns, I got the blessin’ too and he be teachin’ me.”

  “You like the healing?”

  “I surely do,” she admitted. “May be selfish of me t’ say so, but I’m glad, of all my daddy’s children, I was the one got the gift.”

  I knew Caroline was saying exactly what she felt. I had nothing to say in return to her honesty. I just smiled as I opened the gate.

  When I left the Perry farm, it was almost sunset. As I mounted Thunder, I had with me not only the eggs Caroline had given me but a helping of food for my supper and for my breakfast too. All the Perrys saw me off, including Miz Rachel Perry. I thanked her for having me and for the wondrous food she had cooked. All she gave me for my words was a nod in return, and as I rode off, I realized that during all the hours I had spent at the Perry home, Miz Rachel Perry had not spoken one word to me.

  It was in the next month that Sam Perry brought Caroline to the shed to paint her flowers on the rocker. Nathan was with her. Sam Perry left them both while he went off to tend some ailing horses on the other side of town. I felt a bit awkward at first, having the brother and sister in my work space, but when Caroline saw the rocker, she put me at ease. “Oh, Mister Paul Logan, it’s lookin’ mighty fine!” she declared as she slowly slid her fingers along the sanded grain of the chair’s rounded back, then rocked it gently. “Oh, it’s just so fine!”

  “It sure is,” Nathan agreed.

  “Why don’t you try it out?” I said to Caroline. “Go ahead and sit in it.”

  Caroline shook her head. “Oh, no, thank ya.”

  “Well, then, I’ll try it,” declared Nathan playfully. But before he could sit down, Caroline shoved him away.

  “Ah, naw, ya don’t! Nobody sits in this rocker ’til Mama do. She gonna be the first one.”

  “Ah, Caroline—”

  “It’s hers, and right is right!”

  Nathan laughed, shrugged, then knelt on the floor to study the rocker more closely. He felt along the curves and looked at me. “Mister Logan, how you get this here wood t’ do like this so this here chair rocks?”

  I pointed to a long wooden box in the corner of the room. It was supported with legs at one end, while the other end was set across a giant kettle. The kettle was set over a fire and was filled with boiling water. Nathan turned to where I was pointing and his eyes grew big as steam drifted from the box. “That’s called a steam box,” I said. “I soak wood I want to bend in water, then I put the wood in that box. You see how half the kettle is closed and the box is sitting over the other half? Well, there are openings underneath the box so that steam from the kettle can get inside.” I got up. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Nathan followed me over to the steam box. I opened the loading door at the end of the box over the kettle, and Nathan jumped back, startled, as steam blew out. Caroline, still by the rocker, laughed, and Nathan himself smiled. “I should’ve warned you about that,” I said, then waited until the steam cleared. Once it had, I pointed out the two pine cuttings already inside. They lay across rods set several inches from the floor of the box so that the steam could circulate around them. I closed the door and went to the other end of the box, and showed Nathan the vent holes. “The steam goes in from the kettle, circulates around the wood, and comes out here. After the wood’s been in the box awhile, it’s soft enough to bend.”

  Nathan’s eyes showed his amazement as he walked around the steam box, studying it.

  “Mister Paul Logan, you mind if I get started now?” I looked over at Caroline, who had been patiently watching us. “I don’t want t’ be in yo’ way.”

  “You won’t be,” I said.

  “Good.” She patted the headboard of the rocker. “I’m gonna put Mama’s flowers right here, and then when Mama sit down and rest her head, it’ll be like she lyin’ right in her flower bed.” She smiled. I smiled back as she began pulling out several small jars from her basket and placing them in a neat row on the workbench. “These here are my paints,” she said. “I got them from the store. I saved for them with my own pie money.” I brought a work stool over and placed it beside the rocker for her. She smiled her thanks, then sat down and went to work. I stood watching her.

  “Mister Logan,” called Nathan “can ya show me how it’s done? How ya bends the wood, I mean?”

  I nodded, glanced once more at Caroline as she began to lightly sketch an outline of her flowers onto the headboard, then went over to Nathan. I pulled one of the pine cuttings from the steam box and slowly bent it for another rocker, so that Nathan could see. He was fascinated. I then returned to the
cabinet I was making. Seeing that Nathan was so eager to learn, I let him help me. But even while I was instructing Nathan on how to fit the dowels of the boards for a drawer together, I was aware of Caroline across the room delicately painting bright splashes of yellows and reds and greens, oranges and blues, creating the bright flowers and the grasses too of her mother’s garden. She worked in silence at first, but as the garden of flowers grew, she began to hum, and I didn’t mind the sound of it. I was used to working in silence, with just my own thoughts for company. Caroline’s presence made the morning pleasant. When she stood, I knew she was finished, and I regretted that she was.

  “Well, what y’all think?” she asked, grinning widely. “And if ya don’t like it, keep yo’ words to yo’selves.”

  Nathan went over to the rocker and leaned close to inspect it. After a moment or two he looked at his sister and teased, “It’s okay, I reckon, but whoever told ya you could paint?”

  Caroline laughed and playfully swatted his arm. “Boy, told ya t’ keep yo’ words t’ yo’self.”

  Nathan laughed. “Ah, it’ll do. Main thing, Mama’s gonna love it.”

  “Yeah, she gonna, ain’t she?” Caroline beamed and leaned against her brother’s arm as they both admired the rocker. She then glanced over her shoulder at me. “You ain’t said what you think ’bout my flowers.”

  “Well, maybe he was thinkin’ same as me,” said Nathan, “so he keepin’ his words to hisself.”

  Caroline turned on him. “Was I talkin’ to you?”

  Nathan laughed. I smiled. “You said flowers would brighten up the rocker. Well, you were right.” I left my bench and went to take a closer look. The flower garden was spread all across the headboard. It was wild, alive, and inviting. “You do good work,” I said.

  “Thank ya,” she said. “So do you.”

  I smiled at her again, then walked around the chair. “I’ll put several coats of linseed oil on it to bring out the natural beauty of the wood, and when it’s dried, it’ll be ready for you to give to your mother.”

  “How long that gonna be?” asked Nathan.

  “Could be several weeks for a good linseed stain. To me, linseed oil on wood looks better than shellac.”

  Caroline’s disappointment showed on her face. “I was hopin’ we could take it home t’day.”

  “It takes a while for a good coating,” I said, “and I want to make sure each coat is totally dry before applying another one.”

  “Well . . . we want it right.”

  “I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”

  “You ain’t gotta do that. We can come get it.”

  “That’s all right. I’ve got some business out that way I’ve been thinking on taking care of, so it won’t be any trouble. I’ll just check with your daddy about it when he comes back.”

  “Well, whenever you bring it, we’ll be ready for it.” She smiled happily now. “I can’t hardly wait!”

  I returned her smile.

  When I finished staining the rocker, I spoke to Luke Sawyer about taking it to Sam Perry, and he said that was fine by him as long as I collected the remaining money that was due. I said I’d take care of that. Luke Sawyer told me to take his wagon, so I covered the rocker with a tarp and set it in the back of the wagon and tied it down. Then I headed out for Sam Perry’s farm. I didn’t tell Luke Sawyer I had other reasons for wanting to deliver the chair. I wanted to see Caroline again, but I figured to keep that to myself.

  When I got to the Perry place, I halted the wagon some distance from the house and went on foot to find Mister Perry. I wasn’t sure how he wanted to present the rocker to his wife, and I didn’t want to spoil his surprise. I came across Nathan first. I asked him to get his daddy for me and told him I’d wait at the wagon. Nathan ran off to do my bidding, and when he returned, not only was his daddy with him, but several of his brothers and sisters, including Caroline.

  “Ow, let’s see it!” said Caroline joyously, clapping her hands together like a little girl.

  I smiled at her and untied the rope as all the Perrys crowded near. I lifted the tarp from the rocker and a raucous shrill rose from them all.

  “Ah, my good gracious, that there’s sho’ fine! That there sho’ is!” exclaimed Sam Perry as he walked around the wagon admiring the rocker from every angle. “Can’t nobody say nothin’ ’gainst yo’ work! Ya done us proud!”

  Callie had words too. “Ain’t never seen no furniture this fine and pretty,” she said. “Mama’s gonna jus’ love it!”

  “It sho’ is a beauty, all right,” joined in Nathan. “Jus’ look at that wood!”

  “Just look at the flowers,” I said, and looked pointedly at Caroline. Caroline beamed back at me.

  “My girl, she sho’ done dressed it up, ain’t she?” said a proud Sam Perry.

  “That she did,” I agreed, my eyes still on Caroline, but she seemed not to notice now as she competed in chatter with her sister and brothers about the rocker.

  Amidst it all, Sam Perry dispatched Nathan and another of his boys to get his wife, who, I learned, was with Risten at her place. “Tell her I need her here now, nothin’ else!” he ordered. He also sent someone to gather the rest of the Perrys from the fields to the house. Then he laid his hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you and me finish up our business,” he said. I nodded and pulled out the bill Luke Sawyer had written and handed it to him. Sam Perry glanced at it, then called to Callie and Caroline to come over. With no embarrassment, he openly admitted, “Can’t read. All my younguns of school age can. I done seen t’ that.” The young women read the bill to their father, and Sam Perry nodded in agreement to the balance due, then pulled out a tiny sack from his pants pocket and counted out the money due. “Can’t read,” he laughed, “but I sure ’nough can count!” I smiled and wrote “Paid” across the bill, along with my signature, and handed it to him again. “Now, you don’t mind, Mister Logan, let’s drive on up t’ the house and put this here rocker on the front porch. I want it there waitin’ when my Rachel show up!”

  Sam Perry and I re-covered the chair, then climbed onto the seat of the wagon and his children climbed onto the back, surrounding the rocker, and we rode to the house. When we reached it, all the Perrys jumped down, and I pulled the tarp from around the chair. Sam Perry then gently lifted the rocker from the wagon and set it on the porch. There were then more words of praise for the chair as more Perrys came in from the fields. I chose to go at that point, but Sam Perry wouldn’t hear of it. “No, suh!” he exclaimed. “You done made this chair, and ya got a right t’ see how much my Rachel gonna love it. You stay right here!” At first I protested, but the truth is I wanted to see Rachel Perry’s face when she saw the chair. Though I did stay, I wasn’t figuring Rachel Perry would be any too pleased that the rocker so special to her husband and her family had been made by me.

  After a bit, a wagon came rattling up the trail. The wagon held the eldest Perry daughter and her family, Nathan and his brother, as well as Rachel Perry. “What’s the matter?” Rachel Perry cried, standing up before the wagon was stopped. “Them boys ain’t said! Ah, Lord, one of my babies hurt! That’s what the matter, ain’t it?”

  “No such thing!” denied Sam Perry, going over to the wagon. “And stop all that hollerin’, woman! Ain’t nothin’ wrong!”

  “Then how come you t’ send for me like that?”

  Sam Perry helped his wife from the wagon. “Ah, sugar pie,” he said soothingly as he placed his arms around her. “Jus’ wanted you t’ come.”

  Rachel Perry pulled away furiously. “And you hafta go and send for me like that?”

  “Now, don’t be mad, Miz Perry. No need t’ be mad! No need for worry neither . . . ’cepting for what’s on that porch!” He then put his massive arm around his wife again and pointed her toward the rocker.

  Rachel Perry stared at the rocker and her mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “You love it, Mama?” cried Caroline.

  “Ah, naw . . .�
�

  “So, you don’t love it?” teased Sam Perry.

  “Ah, Luke . . .”

  “Done had it made special for ya, baby, jus’ for you. Man here done made it, and Caroline done painted them there flowers—”

  “All your favorite flowers, Mama!” exploded Caroline. “Every kind you done planted in your garden—your petunias and your marigolds and snapdragons, even your roses!”

  “Your pansies too!” added Callie. “Ain’t they fine?”

  Rachel Perry shook her head, unbelieving.

  “Well, come on!” ordered her husband. “Don’t jus’ stand way back here gazing at it. Go on, take a closer look.”

  “That’s right, Mama!” cried Nathan. “And sit in it! Caroline ain’t let me.”

  “It’s your chair, Mama,” said Caroline with a chiding glance at Nathan. “Ain’t nobody sat in it yet. You be the first.”

  “Come on, sugar,” said Sam Perry, and with his eldest son, Hugh, led Rachel Perry to the rocker as if she were a queen. Gingerly, Rachel Perry touched the arms of the chair. Then she touched the headboard and slipped her fingers across the flowers.

  “You like it, Mama?” asked Caroline eagerly.

  “Ah, sugar . . . it’s jus’ . . . it’s jus’ too much.”

  “Well, go on! Sit in it!” ordered her husband. Rachel Perry obeyed.

  All the Perrys clapped.

  “Ain’t it grand, Mama?” asked Caroline, kneeling on the porch floor beside her. “Ain’t it jus’ too grand?”

  “Ah, yes, sweet-pea.” Rachel Perry smiled and folded her hands over the knuckles of the chair. “Ah, yes.” Then she began to rock. Again all the Perrys clapped.

  Sam Perry grinned. “So, I takes it ya like yo’ rocker, huh, Miz Perry?”

  Rachel Perry grinned too. “Well, what you think, Mister Perry?”

  “Well, if ya likes it, then you gots this man here t’ thank for it!” Sam Perry then extended his arm toward where I stood near the side of the porch. “’Cause Mister Logan, he the one done made it!”