Read Online The Well by Mildred D. Taylor - Free Book Online

strange to you, but I’m glad my papa whipped me that day, ’cause it made me come to a realization about myself. I might’ve been a white man’s son, but that didn’t make me white, so I took his advice. I got to be fourteen and I ran off from home, from his place, but I took his advice. I started using my head, ’stead of my fists. I got this land with my head, not my fists. My papa gave me some good advice. I think y’all best be taking it too.”
    Papa, he didn’t say nothing more. Hammer and me, we didn’t say nothing either, but I was thinking hard on what Papa had said. I was hoping Hammer was too. If he was, he wasn’t giving any indication of it when he spoke up again. “Papa,” he said, “you mind if we turn this wagon around and go over to the church?”
    â€œThe church? What for?” asked Papa.
    We told him what Charlie and Ed-Rose had told Joe.
    â€œWe don’t figure there to be a meeting,” said Hammer.
    â€œWe figure they’re just funnin’ with Joe,” I said.
    â€œAll right,” Papa said, and he turned the wagon back towards the church road. Long before we reached the church, we saw the lantern lights. Joe had lit them all, and we could see them shining as we made our way through the forest. As we drew nearer to the church, we could hear Joe singing, his voice ringing loud and clear. Then we saw Charlie and Ed-Rose and Dewberry Wallace. All three were peeking into a church window and sniggering. They turned when they heard the wagon.
    â€œWhat y’all doin’ here?” asked Charlie as we got close. Surprise was all ’cross his face.
    â€œDidn’t expect us to show up, didja now?” asked Hammer.
    Papa gave Hammer a shut-your-mouth look and stepped down from the wagon. Hammer and I got down too. “We come up to the church for a meeting,” said Papa.
    â€œThere ain’t no meeting,” sneered Charlie. “Jus’ that addlebrained fool in there holding a sermon.”
    â€œThen I s’pose the other folks must’ve forgot,” saidPapa. “Best we get on in, boys,” he said to us. “We already late.”
    Charlie, Ed-Rose, and Dewberry stared at us in pale silence. Papa had taken the fun out of the joke on Joe. As Papa opened the door to the church, they turned and walked away.
    â€œY’all late!” exclaimed Joe as soon as we entered. He was standing at the altar, the big Bible on top of it, opened, even though he couldn’t read.
    Papa took off his hat. “I ’spect we are,” he said.
    â€œI been waitin’ and waitin’ for folks to come, but they ain’t come so I done said the prayer and give the sermon my ownself! Jus’ now done sung the hymn.” He frowned. “Don’t ’spect, though, I can dismiss ’til after all the folks and the reverend come.”
    Papa, hat in hand, walked up the aisle towards Joe. Hammer and I followed. “Don’t think you have to worry ’bout that Joe,” Papa said. “Seems the reverend called off the meeting.”
    Joe looked surprised. “You sure, Mr. Paul-Edward?”
    Papa nodded. “I’m sure.”
    Joe continued to frown, then his face brightened. “Then I ’spect we can dismiss!”
    â€œI ’spect so,” Papa said. He stepped into a pew. Hammer and I stepped beside him. “You got a closing song?”
    â€œYes, suh!” said Joe. “‘Nearer My God to Thee’!” He hesitated. “That be all right?”
    Papa nodded. “That’ll be just fine. It’s a fine song.”
    Joe smiled with satisfaction and began to sing. Papa, Hammer, and I joined in. We sang the song in full, then Joe said the benediction, dismissed his small congregation, and we all headed for home. Joe’s home was a short ways from the church, heading north. We headed south. Joe walked; we got back on the wagon. On our