The Land(100)
I didn’t see John Wallace again until he came back into these parts some years later and a man grown. By that time he was changed, but he never mentioned either of us being on that ridge again, at least to my knowing. But it wasn’t John Wallace I was worried about that day as he left the forty. It was Digger. I worried, for no matter how drunk and cowardly Digger was, he was still a white man.
The day after John Wallace left, Mitchell and I came from chopping and found Wade Jamison helping Nathan hack branches from the fallen trees. We called Nathan over. “What’s that Jamison boy doin’ here again?” demanded Mitchell.
“He helpin’ wit’ the brush,” mumbled Nathan.
“How come?”
“Said he wanna help.”
“There’s no money to pay him,” I said.
“He don’t care. He jus’ said he wantin’ t’ help us out.”
“I don’t like it, Paul,” said Mitchell. “We already had that one white boy round here, and look where that got us.”
“I’ll talk to him,” I said.
“Don’t make him go, Paul,” pleaded Nathan. “Wade’s my friend.”
Mitchell scowled down at him. “Friend? Boy, you still carryin’ that foolishness round in yo’ head?” Nathan didn’t say anything, and Mitchell walked off in disgust.
I looked at Nathan, then went over to talk to Wade. “Your daddy know you’re doing this?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“He ask you why?”
“Yes, sir, and I told him about how hard you all are working and I didn’t want you to lose your land.”
I looked long at Wade Jamison, then said, “Why should you care?”
“Because you make good neighbors,” he answered without hesitation.
“I suppose you know about my agreement with Mister Granger.”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Nathan told you?”
“Told me, all right, but my daddy already knew.”
I was silent. I didn’t like everybody knowing my business. “I can’t have you working here. I appreciate your willingness to help us, but I can’t have it.”
“I don’t need pay,” said Wade.
“Maybe not, but everybody works here gets paid in some kind of way, and the thing is, I’m not figuring on paying another hand.”
“But you don’t pay Nathan.”
“Not in money.”
“I know. He told me about you teaching him cabinetmaking.”
“Nathan’s told you a lot.”
“We’re friends.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was thinking, you let me work here this summer, you could teach me cabinetmaking too. I’d like to learn. That could be my pay.”
I studied the boy with his blond hair and his blue eyes. He looked much like Robert. I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”
“’Cause I’m white?”
The boy was blunt. I decided to be the same. “That’s right.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you understand enough. What you don’t, ask your daddy.”
Wade Jamison looked at me. “Can I stay on ’til it’s time for the next load to go down the creek?”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Like to complete what I start. I’d like to help out until Mister Granger doesn’t need so many trees, and Nathan said the next time Mister Granger comes with his men, you’d have all the extra trees he’s been wanting chopped by then.”
I thought on it. “It’s important to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. You tell your daddy what you’re doing, though, and make sure it’s all right with him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, Wade—”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’ll pay you wages for this week’s work.”
The boy’s lips parted as if to object to that, but then he seemed to sense my need to pay him for his work, and he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, and went back to chopping the branches.
The day following that talk with Wade, Charles Jamison himself rode over to the forty. He looked around and commended me. “You’ve certainly gotten a lot of clearing done. Looks like you’ll soon be ready to do some farming.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“You know, my boy Wade’s taken a real liking to working here on your place.”
“He’s been a big help. But I told him his being here had to be all right with you.”
Charles Jamison nodded to that. “Understand you told him too you didn’t want him working here.”
I thought on my words. From all I’d heard and from my few dealings with Charles Jamison, he was a fair man. Still, I couldn’t get over the fact he was a white man. One unwise word and I figured I could find myself in deep trouble, Charles Jamison being a fair man or not. “I decided not to take on another hand right now,” I said. “We’ve just about got all the trees we need cut for the next run down the creek.”