The Land(91)

That next morning I left the camp early while it was still dark in order to reach the Perry farm in time for breakfast. When I got there, I found my heart racing upon seeing Caroline. She looked even prettier than I remembered. As we sat down to breakfast, I said, “I’ve just come back from the lumber camp over by Mud Creek. I was visiting a friend of mine there. Turns out the two of you know each other.”

Caroline’s eyes seemed to dance as she looked at me. “Do?”

“Yes. . . . His name’s Mitchell Thomas.”

“My Mitchell?” exclaimed Caroline.

“Ya don’t say!” added Mister Perry.

“You really know my Mitchell?” Caroline almost squealed with delight.

I nodded. “Since we were boys. We came into Mississippi together from East Texas. We grew up together on my daddy’s land in Georgia.”

“Well, ain’t that somethin’!” said Sam Perry. “You hear that, Miz Perry?” he asked his wife. “What ya say t’ that? Mister Logan here knowin’ the young man our Caroline gonna marry?”

Miz Rachel Perry glanced at her husband, then to my great surprise turned to me and spoke. “You think he a good man?”

I looked straight into her eyes. “Yes, ma’am, I do. Since the day he became my friend, he’s never let me down, not even one time.”

Miz Rachel Perry kept her eyes on me a moment longer, looked at her beaming daughter, then back at me again, and nodded. She had no more words for me right then, even though the rest of the family had plenty as they asked question after question about Mitchell and me. But after breakfast was over and Nathan and I were packing to go, Miz Rachel Perry pulled me aside. “Mister Logan,” she said, “I wants t’ thank you for my rockin’ chair.”

“No need,” I said. “It was your husband’s doing.”

“But he ain’t made that rockin’ chair. You done that. I know he done paid ya for it and it was yo’ job t’ make it, but still I’m thankin’ ya for it. It’s a finely made piece of furniture and I ’preciate that. I always ’preciate good work and I wants ya t’ know that.”

“Well, I thank you, Miz Perry. You know, though, I can’t take all the credit for that chair. It was your daughter Caroline painted the flowers.”

“I know that. I know.” She looked away for a moment, pressed her lips together, then turned back to me. “I wanna ’pologize t’ ya too.”

“Apologize?”

“That’s right. My husband and my daughter Caroline, they both done told me I ain’t been the best I coulda been when you come for supper that Sunday. But they ain’t had t’ tell me that. I know’d I wasn’t bein’ a Christian woman, welcomin’ a stranger t’ my house. It wasn’t nothin’ t’ do with anythin’ ya done I acted that way, and I wants ya t’ know that. You seems t’ be a fine young man and ya does fine work. You welcome here . . . anytime.”

I was overcome by Miz Perry’s words. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because I saw my mama in her. Maybe it was because I saw her pride and felt her pain about her name and what her mother had suffered to give it to her. I was so overcome, all I could do was nod, and she accepted that without another word. She looked into my eyes, and I believe she saw what I felt.





On the way back to the forty acres neither Nathan nor I had much to say to each other. I had my thoughts on Caroline and Mitchell, and clearing the trees in time, and I reckon Nathan was already missing his family. By the time we reached the forty, it was nightfall. I halted the wagon at the head of the trail because of the stumps, then Nathan and I unhitched the mules and led them to where I had built a shed. We fed and watered the mules and the dog too; we unloaded the wood and my tools, and set them in the shed along with all the other supplies. Once all that was done, Nathan and I settled in the shed as well. I had made only one bed, a crude one at that, and I let Nathan have it. I built a fire, rolled myself into a blanket, and lay on the ground beside the fire. Nathan was already snoring. I was tired, but it was way over in the night before I could fall asleep. The news of Caroline and Mitchell had hit me hard, and now with only my mind for company, that’s all I could think about.

The next morning before the dawn, I rose before Nathan and rekindled the fire. Then I woke the boy and sent him to the creek for water. When he returned, I put on a pot of chicory and unwrapped the biscuits and ham Miz Perry had given us, and we settled down to breakfast without a word. Afterward I began to show Nathan what a day’s work on this place was going to be. I had already cleared the roadway. Now I set Nathan to leveling the stumps that lined the roadway while I chopped more trees. The work was hard, but Nathan didn’t complain. In the afternoon I began chopping trees to build a cabin, for it was already fall and we would soon need sturdier shelter. As soon as the trees fell, I had Nathan hack off the branches, and when the evening came, we gathered all the branches and burned them.