The Land(92)

Finally we sawed down a circle of stumps for sitting, dug a fire pit in the center to do our cooking, and sat down to eat more of the good food Miz Rachel Perry had sent. After supper I kept my end of the bargain I’d made with Nathan’s father. Or at least I tried to. I started on the cabinet I’d contracted with Luke Sawyer, and it was my plan to have Nathan help me with every step. But Nathan, though his interest was there, was too tired to do anything much after such a long day. Finally I told him to go on to his bed. Maybe, I decided, the teaching would have to wait awhile, at least until Nathan was accustomed to his new job of logging.





A few days after Nathan and I settled into our work routine, we had an unexpected visit from Charles Jamison’s boy, Wade. He was on foot. He came right up to where we were working on the slope. I was chopping a tree at the time, but I had given to Nathan the less hazardous job of sawing the branches from the fallen trees. Both of us were hard at work, our attention only to the job at hand, when Wade suddenly announced his presence.

“Hello!” he called.

His words were shouted above the buzz of everything else. Both Nathan and I stopped our work and looked toward the sound and the boy who’d issued it.

“Hello!” Wade hollered a second time, and waved at me up the slope. “Remember me, Mister Logan? I’m Wade Jamison!”

I remember thinking he was a boy sure of himself. I gave him a nod.

“My daddy and me, you know we’ve got a place right up the road, so I figured I’d come see ’bout the neighbors.”

“That’s obliging of ya,” said Nathan, not sounding at all impressed.

“Not at all,” said Wade, taking no offense, it seemed, to Nathan’s tone. He looked around. “My daddy said you’re clearing all the trees through here. Forty acres of them. Got your work cut out for ya.”

“Yes, we do,” I said.

“Y’all need some help?”

“We’ve got help coming,” I replied.

“Well, I’ll let y’all get back to it,” said the boy. “Just wanted to say hello.”

“We appreciate that,” I said.

“Oh, I’ll be stopping by again.” He turned to go, took a few steps, then turned around. “’Ey!” he said, looking at Nathan. “What’s your name?”

“Nathan.”

“Well, Nathan, you like t’ fish?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well, how ’bout us goin’ fishin’ sometime?”

“I work mos’ the time.”

Wade nodded like a wise old man in understanding. “But you ever get a break in your day and wanna go fishing on a Saturday, when I’m out of school, I got some poles and I know some real good spots. I’ll check back sometime when I’m on my way to the Rosa Lee. That’s what we call the creek yonder. That be all right with you?”

Nathan glanced back at me, then looked again at Wade and gave a nod.

“All right!” said Wade with a smile. “See y’all, then!” He waved us a good-bye and went on his way. Nathan and I returned to our work.

A week later on a Saturday morning Wade Jamison was back again, and this time he had his fishing poles with him. “Can’t go,” said Nathan when Wade asked him to join him.

“Well, ya know, fishing is really good this time of morning,” said Wade.

“Know that,” replied Nathan. He hesitated. “But I got too much work t’ do.”

I looked at Nathan eyeing those fishing poles, and I knew he was longing to go. He had been putting in nearly the same hours as I and without complaint. I figured he needed some enjoyment and to be with someone near his own age. “Nathan,” I said, “some catfish would sure taste good for supper. Why don’t you go on with Wade and catch us some?”

“But what ’bout the branches?”

“They’ll be here for you when you get back. Just make sure you’re here come noon.”

Nathan grinned wide. “Yes, suh, I’ll do that.” Then he went off happily with Wade. Each boy was holding tight to a fishing pole.

After that, every Saturday Wade Jamison showed up with his fishing poles and I let Nathan go with him. I limited the fishing to just that one morning a week because of all the work to be done, and neither Nathan nor Wade pushed for more. But despite Wade’s showing up just once a week for fishing, we saw him more than that. Every day or so he was on the forty after school, wanting to help if he could. I politely declined his help; still, he often stayed awhile keeping Nathan company as he worked. Since Nathan’s work wasn’t slowed by his presence, I saw no harm at first in his being there. But then as Nathan began to look forward to Wade’s visits and began to parrot Wade’s words to me, with “Wade said this” and “Wade said that,” I decided to speak to Nathan about keeping his distance with this new friend.