The Land (26 page)

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 flowers, 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.

Before dinner was ready, all the Perry children appeared on the front porch. I figured I was a bit of a curiosity to them, and they mostly just stared at me with only mumbled words to say. Caroline came out, and so did Callie, to order all the children to the back porch to wash up, and their older sister Risten brought a bowl of fresh water, a towel, and some soap for their father and me. Of all the Perrys, only Miz Perry didn't make an appearance on the porch. When dinner was announced, Sam Perry ushered me into his house.

The main room of the Perry home was small and full. A bed sat in a corner, a fireplace was on one side, and a long table took up the middle. A bench was on either side of the table, and a chair was at each end. The table was laden with food—butter beans with crowder peas and rice, biscuits and corn bread, fried chicken and beef spareribs in gravy, plus pickled preserves of onions, tomatoes, and cucumbers. There were vinegar beets too. It was a grand spread of food and hardly looked like the table of a sharecropper's family. Both Callie and Caroline were busy circling the table pouring tall glasses of cold buttermilk as Sam Perry continued to make me welcome, and there was even hot coffee poured for Mister Perry and me. Sam Perry smiled with pride as he gazed down the table to where I was seated at the other end, and I had the feeling he had read my mind. “You know it taste even better'n it look,” he said. Then he let out a loud holler. “Rachel! Rachel! Where you at? Come on now! Come on in here, sugar, so's we can thank the Lord and show Him how much we thanks Him for His good food!” He then turned to the rest of the Perrys. “All y'all old 'nough t' sit with company, find yo'selves a seat. Rest of y'all stand back for prayer, and then yo' mama and yo' sisters'll see t' yo' plates.”

Caroline and Callie, along with Nathan and the older brothers still living at home, and the two married children with their spouses, all took seats at the table. But Sam Perry's wife had not come in, and Sam Perry called to her once more. When Miz Perry still did not appear, he turned to Nathan. “Boy, go get yo' mama and tell her we waitin' on her! Tell her not t' be stayin' off in that kitchen all through this dinner. We wants her here at the table.”

Nathan hurriedly carried out his father's command. He returned shortly, followed by his mother carrying one last dish, which she placed on the table. Then she put her hands on her hips and stared down at her massive husband. “What you doin' wit' all that hollerin' at me, Sam Perry?” she fussed. “I come when I got all my food ready. Ya knows that!”

“Wanted you t' meet our company, Miz Perry,” said Sam Perry in explanation. “This here's Mister Paul Logan from outa Vicksburg. I told you 'bout him.”

I stood as Miz Rachel Perry seemed to take note of me for the first time. “Miz Perry,” I said in greeting, “I thank you for having me to your home. You've certainly prepared a beautiful dinner here.”

Miz Perry said nothing. She just stared at me while I stood awkwardly waiting for some response. Rachel Perry was a small woman, not at all like her husband in stature. She was a good-looking woman too, pale in coloring, but weary-looking. There seemed to be no laughter in her.

“Mama?” said Caroline, and Rachel Perry finally gave me a stiff nod in return for my words.

“Go on have a seat there, Mister Logan,” said Sam Perry, offering no apology for his wife's cold greeting, “and let's join hands in prayer.” He stretched out long arms and grasped the hands of his children on either side of him, and all at the table grasped the hands beside them. I did the same.

After the blessing was asked, all the women, including Caroline, rose from the table and took the children with them to prepare their plates in the kitchen. After some time Caroline and Callie, along with Risten and their sister-in-law, returned. The children, they said, were eating on the porch. Rachel Perry too returned, but she didn't sit down. She refilled dishes throughout the meal, but she never looked once at me.

Despite that and the uneasiness I felt at Rachel Perry's attitude, I still found that I was enjoying myself. As Sam Perry had said, his wife was an excellent cook, and he hadn't exaggerated that point. I hadn't tasted food like what was spread on that table since my mama's own good cooking. The main meal filled me up, but when the layered pecan cake and the sweet-potato pies were brought to the table, I couldn't say no. In addition to all the good food was the warmth of being with a family. Throughout the meal Sam Perry, his sons, and his daughters kept up a lively conversation punched by laughter and good-natured teasing, and at the end of the meal we all sat for a while longer as Sam Perry told stories. When the children had finished their meals on the porch, they ran in and out and gathered close, and I felt the warm circle of family. But eventually Miz Rachel Perry appeared and announced, “If y'all finished, then I gots t' get this table cleared and this food left over put away. Caroline, Callie, Risten, y'all give me a hand.”

All the Perry girls, as well as their sister-in-law, stood and began to help their mother. At that, Sam Perry invited me outside. “Look like the womenfolk done made it clear we got no further business in here!” All the men and boys then went outside, and once on the porch Sam Perry offered me some tobacco. I took it and filled my pipe, and for a while we sat enjoying the smoke. I had picked up the habit of pipe smoking in the lumber camps, and it was the only frivolous thing on which I spent my money. I enjoyed the aroma of the tobacco. It reminded me of my daddy. As I listened to Sam Perry's talk and his laughter, I was already thinking on the day's end and not wanting it to come. Still, I didn't want to overstay my welcome, and as it grew late, I put out my pipe and made ready to go.

“Now, don't be hurryin' off,” objected Sam Perry. “It's feedin' time for my stock. Why don't ya come 'long wit' me and my boys and take a look at 'em. I'm just gonna change my pants and get my work boots on.” I agreed to that, and after Sam Perry had changed, we headed toward his pasture. “Got me plenty of fine animals for a man as dirt poor as me, I reckon,” he said. “May be a sin to be so proud, but God gonna hafta forgive me for that, 'cause there's three things I ain't shame t' 'mit I'm right proud of—my wife, my children, and my animals.”

I figured he had a right to be proud. He had a fine family. He also had chickens and guineas, several cows, a pen full of hogs, and two mules.

As we stood outside the hog pen, Sam Perry said, “I s'pose you been wondering how a man like me come t' have animals like these here. S'pose ya been wondering too how I could 'ford fried chicken and spareribs on my table. Well, I works hard and I puts my faith in the Lord, and the Lord done give me a gift. I got the gift of healin'. Learned 'bout healin' when I was a boy, and that's how I made my way through slavery, healin' the white folks' animals. Now, I might not have much far as land goes, 'cause this here land belongs to that white man up the road. But I got me a fine family and I got these here animals and plenty t' eat, and I thanks God for 'em all 'cause He done give me the gift of healin' His creatures. Folks call me t' tend they animals. White folks come, black folks come, well-t'-do and poor folks too. Folks that can, they pays me sometimes with their litter runts. God and me, we take care of them runts and brings 'em up strong. So if I'm proud and sinful, I figure that's partly God's fault too,” he laughed, “'cause He done give 'em all t' me!” He turned from me then and hollered to Nathan and another of his sons to bring the slop buckets.

While his boys went to get the slop for the hogs, Sam Perry opened the pen gate and stepped in. “Now, you best stay on that side the wire, Mister Logan,” he advised. “These ole hogs can get t' be a bit ornery. 'Sides, you ain't dressed for it.” He glanced past me as a noise arose across the yard. I turned and saw Caroline, a basket looped over one arm, yanking at the gate to the chicken coop. “Pull it hard, sugar!” Sam Perry called. “One of these here days I'm gonna make myself another gate,” he mumbled, more to himself than to me. “That there one's always gettin' stuck.” He hollered again to Caroline. “Pull up on it and give it a yank!”

“I'll go see if I can help her,” I volunteered.

“Well, I 'preciate that. I ain't already been in with these hogs here, I'd take care of it myself.”

“Glad to be of help,” I said, and crossed the yard. Caroline was still pulling at the gate when I reached her. “You mind if I try?” I asked.

She put her basket down and hit at the gate with her hand. “Papa been sayin' he gonna fix this thing, but he ain't got round to it.” She hit the gate again. “I ain't had on this here Sunday dress, I'd just jump it.”

I glanced at her. I imagined she would. “Let me take a look,” I said, and she stepped aside. I studied the rusty latch. “Well, here's the problem. One of the screws is out, so the latch slipped a bit and it's not fitting right.” I looked at the ground, searching for the screw.

“Don't ya be worryin' none with it,” she said. “We take care of it t'morrow. All I want now is to get in there and gather these eggs. You like eggs, Mister Paul Logan?”