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

way home Papa took a side road to the reverend’s house. It was late, the house was dark, but Papa woke the reverend up anyway and told him about Joe and the Simmses. The reverend and Papa, they agreed that the meeting the Simmses had told Joe about was canceled. They agreed that’s what they would tell Joe.
    That next morning it was Papa, not Mama, who took us in the wagon up to the Simmses. Old Man McCalister Simms saw Papa and ain’t said a word. Papa ain’t said a word either. “You boys mind yourselves,” Papa said to us. “I’ll be back come sunset.” Then he turned the wagon around and headed back to our land. And that’s the way it was for the months we worked at the Simmses’ place. Every day Papa took us over there. Every day Papa came at sunset and took us home. We put in our months, and Papa and Kevin and Mitchellstayed at home and saw us through it. But we all knew that one day they would have to go back to lumbering again, and that’s what they did. When our working days at the Simmses’ ended, when we were finally free to spend the days on our own land, Papa and my brothers Mitchell and Kevin, they all headed back to the Natchez Trace. One week after they were gone, Hammer made a point of going back to the Simmses’ farm, found Charlie alone, and knocked him down.
    Again.
    I was with him and not wanting to be. “Now tell that to your daddy,” he said. “Tell him Hammer Logan done knocked you down…again! Tell him I used my fists, nothing else! Tell him that and even if he do come after me, see if you don’t get your ownself whipped this time!” He said that and left Charlie sitting on the ground staring after him. Charlie didn’t move to get up, but he cursed Hammer.
    â€œY’all gonna pay!” he yelled after us. “Y’all gonna sure ’nough pay for this!”
    I knew it still wasn’t over.
    I braced myself and waited for the sheriff or Old Man McCalister to come calling, this time with a rope. But the days and the nights passed, and nobody came except folks wanting more water. After awhile I beganto think maybe nobody was coming, that maybe Charlie had decided it was best to keep what Hammer had done to himself. Two or three days after I came on that way of thinking, Mr. Melbourne and George came knocking on the door. The dawn had just broke and Halton had already gone off to the fields. Ma Rachel was gone too; she had spent the night at Aunt Callie’s.
    â€œCome to get some more water, that be all right with y’all,” said Mr. Melbourne.
    Mama stood in the doorway and talked to him. “Help yo’self,” she said. “You knows you welcome to it.”
    â€œWell, I’m right obliged,” Mr. Melbourne said. “Thought we would’ve done had more rain by now and we wouldn’t hafta be troublin’ y’all.”
    â€œAin’t no trouble,” said Mama. “No trouble at all.”
    â€œWell, I thank ya. We ain’t had much of a garden, but my missus done sent ya some pickled onions and tomatoes and such, jus’ to show our appreciation. Got ’em in my wagon.”
    â€œWell, ya know that ain’t necessary, Mr. Melbourne, but I sure do thank ya. Thank your wife for me too. David, you go on to the wagon and get them preserves, and Hammer, you give Mr. Melbourne a hand with that water.”
    Hammer and me, we did as were told, and walkedout with the Melbournes. Together, Hammer and George Melbourne lifted one of the empty barrels from the wagon, and Mr. Melbourne took down the other. Mr. Melbourne pointed out the basket his wife had sent, then he headed for the well, just as two more wagons pulled up the drive. Mr. Jonas Peabody from up the road and three of his redheaded boys were on the first wagon; Mr. Tom Bee with John Henry Berry beside him was on the other. Mr. Melbourne set his barrel down beside the well and gave a wave.