The Well (5 page)

Mama came out of the kitchen and nodded, as if the sheriff not having any molasses bread was of some great concern to her, but she said nothing. The sheriff glanced through the door at those great pans of bread cooling on the sideboard and cleared his throat. “It sure do look mighty good.”

“Well, let me get you a piece,” Mama said, and went back into the kitchen. She cut a sizeable square of the bread, plopped a heaping spoonful of newly churned butter on top, and took it to the sheriff, along with a large glass of fresh buttermilk. The sheriff thanked her, took a hefty bite of the molasses bread and butter, and smiled. Then he cleared his throat and looked at Mama. “So what your boys done said happened, Caroline?”

“Well, 'cording to my boy David, him and Hammer
was walking 'long the road when they run 'cross Charlie Simms. The Simms boy, he needed help putting a wheel back on his wagon, and he done asked them to help him out. David, he done held the wagon up for Charlie Simms to put the wheel back on, but he done told the Simms boy he couldn't hold it long and that he was gonna hafta let it go, and that's what he done—he let it go. Well, Charlie Simms, he done hit him for letting it go. Hit him and knocked him down, off his crutch—you know my David, he done broke his leg a few weeks back, and he been having to use a crutch ever since. Well, anyways, David said that's what Charlie Simms done to him, and Hammer done beat him for it—with his fists, mind ya. He ain't used no side of lumber, nothin' else, jus' his fists. He hit Charlie Simms with his fists, and Charlie Simms done fell back on a rock and hit his head, and that's what done knocked him out.”

The sheriff grunted and finished his molasses bread. He wiped the plate clean. Mama waited. He drank his buttermilk. Mama waited. Finally he put the plate down on the bench, and sighed. “That was sure mighty good, Caroline. Mighty good.”

“Thank ya.”

“I sure wouldn't mind takin' a piece home, let my wife have a taste.”

“There's plenty,” said Mama. “Ya welcome to it.”

The sheriff nodded his gratitude. Mama stood there, still waiting. The sheriff sighed and looked at her. “Now, Caroline, you know I can't jus' go 'lowing Hammer to go 'round hitting a white boy. Hammer and David, they gotta pay for what they done.”

“David, he ain't touched Charlie Simms.”

“Well…that's David's story.”

“David don't lie.”

“Well, that may be, but I can't hardly go believing him over Charlie, can I now?”

“That's up to you, I reckon.”

The sheriff was silent again, studying on the matter. He drank the last of his buttermilk and set the glass down beside the plate. Then he got up. “I'll tell ya what I'll do. I'll go talk to Old Man McCalister Simms and see if I can't get him not to press charges on this thing. I'll see if maybe he'll accept Hammer and David working for him for a spell. I think he'll see he can come out ahead that way, 'stead of me takin' them boys to jail.”

Mama nodded. “We'd be obliged if you can work it out that way. We ain't wantin' our boys in no jail.”

“Well, fact of the matter is you and Paul-Edward, y'all been doin' a mighty Christian thing here, lettin' folks use your water like you been. Lotta folks
couldn't've made it, they couldn't count on that water. I ain't forgettin' that.”

“Well, the water, it wasn't never ours to give. The good Lord done put it there.”

The sheriff nodded. “Still, some folks might not've been so willing to share. But you listen to me, Caroline, and heed my words. This better not happen again. That boy Hammer get in trouble one more time, he goin' to jail…he don't end up hangin' from a tree first. That boy's wild, and I don't care how Christian you and Paul-Edward be, that boy don't straighten up, there ain't gonna be no savin' him. You understand me now?”

“I understand.”

The sheriff picked up his hat from the bench and put it back on. Mama went back into the kitchen, covered a whole pan of uncut molasses bread with a clean cloth, set it in a basket, and gave it to the sheriff. The sheriff grinned on seeing that long pan of molasses bread, gave a nod of thanks to Mama, then headed back up the walkway, and Mama followed him. I left the pantry, ran through the house to a window looking out onto the side yard, and just about died when I saw who had just pulled up the driveway: Charlie, Ed-Rose, and their daddy, Old Man McCalister Simms.

Now Charlie and Ed-Rose might've been mean,
but that there daddy of theirs, Old Man McCalister Simms, was rock-bottom, ornery mean. Just about everybody was scared of him and that included those children of his. It was said Old Man McCalister Simms he'd had himself two families, one by a wife near 'bout the same age as him and after she died, a young wife, younger than his youngest daughter. Charlie and Ed-Rose were part of that second family and two of the youngest of Old Man McCalister's twelve children.

Sheriff Rankins, he saw the Simmses come up too. So did Mama. Mama stopped near the side door and didn't go out to the drive. The sheriff, he did though. He hooked the basket of molasses bread onto his saddle, then went over to the Simmses' wagon.

Old Man McCalister Simms halted the wagon and shouted, “Where's them niggers 'at done hit my Charlie?”

The sheriff spoke softly. I couldn't hear what he said. Whatever it was, it wasn't satisyfing Mr. McCalister Simms. He was sure enough a hard one, that Old Man McCalister Simms. “I want 'em and I wants 'em now! Ain't gonna 'low them niggers gettin' away with this!”

The sheriff, he gone on talking soft-like. Old Man McCalister Simms sat on the wagon seat frowning, looking meaner than ever. Finally he gave a nod and
the sheriff stepped away from the wagon and motioned to Mama to come over. “Caroline!” he called. “You come on over here now, and you tell that boy David t' get on out here too!”

Before Mama could call me, I had the door open and was out. “Where Ma Rachel?” she asked.

“She still 'sleep,” I said.

“Least that's something,” Mama said, and crossed the side yard to the wagon with me by her side. Up close to Charlie now, I could see his face was all bruised up and swollen, and there was a wrapping around the top of his head. If I wasn't standing there so scared, I would've smiled with a lot of satisfaction that my brother Hammer had given Charlie the whipping that had been coming to him for so long. But there was no smiling right then; Hammer and I were in enough trouble. I didn't want any more.

“Now, Caroline,” said the sheriff, “I done talked to Mr. Simms and his boys, Charlie and Ed-Rose, here, and he done agreed not to put your boys in jail. 'Stead, he's gonna be mighty generous with y'all and let your boys work the summer on his place, seein' your boys done half-crippled Charlie. There's a lot gotta be done Charlie would've been doin' his ownself, your boys hadn't've beaten him so. Your boys gonna hafta take up the slack.”

Mama nodded.

“All right then. Startin' tomorrow, first thing!” The sheriff then turned to his horse and got ready to mount.

But then Old McCalister Simms said, “I want 'em whipped.”

Mama nodded. “Yes, suh. I plans t' get on Hammer 'bout this when I see him. He won't be doin' this again. No, suh! When his papa come home, he'll wear him out.”

Old Man Simms shook his head. “Naw. Naw, that ain't the way it gonna be. I want 'em whipped now.”

For the first time I saw a fear in Mama's eyes. “But…but they papa, he ain't here.”

“Then you do it,” said Old Man McCalister Simms. “You a strong-lookin' gal. You welt them boys good yo'self. You don't, I will.”

Mama shook her head, not saying no, just unbelieving. “Hammer…he ain't here.”

“Then you get him. You get him back here, and you lay a strap on him and this boy too. We ain't goin' 'til you do.”

The sheriff looked at Mama, then turned to the old man. “Now, look here, Mr. Simms, I don't think there's no call for all this—”

“No call? Them niggers done jumped my boy, ain't
they? I had my way, I'd do more'n lay a strap to 'em. I 'member the time we would've done already took these two little niggers to a tree for what they done. Can still do it!”

“Don't want that kind of talk now.”

“Ain't gonna jus' be talk, I hafta wait up here much longer! One nigger get away with hittin' a white man, what you think come next? I got a good mind to deal with this my own way, me and mine. I get finished with 'em, I guarantee ya they won't be raisin' their fists again t' 'nother white man!”

The sheriff stared at him, then I s'pose he was figuring there was nothing else he could do, because he turned back to Mama and said, “Caroline, you best get Hammer and your whippin' strap, and you do what you told 'bout Hammer and David.”

“But…but David, he ain't done nothin'! He ain't hit that boy, Charlie Simms!”

“Now, Caroline—” started the sheriff, but then Old Man McCalister broke in.

“Ya meanin' t' stand there, gal, and tell me jus' one of your boys done this t' my Charlie?”

Mama pulled to her full height, and clasped her hands. “Yes, suh! Your boy done hit my David and ya can see he gots a bad leg here, and my Hammer done hit your boy 'cause of it!” As afraid as Mama must've
been, I could still hear the pride in her voice over Hammer for standing up for me. Scared as I was, I couldn't help myself for being proud too.

Old Man McCalister Simms turned his mean ole eyes onto Charlie. “Thought you said both them boys jumped on you.”

Charlie's eyes went wild. He looked at Ed-Rose, at the sheriff who was standing silent, as if not wanting to get into this. “Well…well, it's the truth, Daddy! She lyin'! That David, he lyin' too! It was both of 'em jumped me! I'd've been lookin' like this if they'd've fought me fair? No, suh! They jumped me—both of 'em—from behind, Pa, and they ain't give me a chance to defend myself! It's the truth, Daddy! It's the truth!”

Old Man McCalister Simms stared into Charlie, then slowly turned and looked, not at Mama, but at the sheriff, at another white man, and said, “If I thought Charlie couldn't beat one little nigger, I'd whip him myself. Had t' be both of 'em jumped him. Now what ya gonna do?”

Sheriff Peterson Rankins nodded, as if that was a certainty, that no lone little Negro could whip a near-grown white boy. After all, what would it look like if one black boy could whip a white boy who was bigger and older? “You done heard, Caroline. Now you get that Hammer, and you get that whippin' strap.”

Mama bit at her lower lip. She looked down at me, and she shook her head. “No, suh. No, suh, I…I ain't gonna whip my David. He ain't the one done the hittin'—”

I touched her arm. “Hammer, he done what he done 'cause of me, Mama. I take my lickin' right 'long side him.”

Mama's eyes looked straight into mine, and they was full. “All right then,” she said. “Go on and get your brother.”

I backed away, not wanting to leave Mama alone, but I knew I had to go. She gave me a nod, letting me know she'd be all right, so I turned and would've gone for Hammer right then if it hadn't been for Ma Rachel; she was standing in the doorway. “What's that goin' on out there, Caroline?” Ma Rachel called. “What them white folks doin' on our land?”

Fast as I could, I limped back to the house trying to stop Ma Rachel before she said too much more. She was still standing in the doorway when I got to her, but her talking ain't stopped. “What's they doin'?” she asked me. “That the sheriff? That Peter Rankins standin' up there? What ya doin' here, Peter Rankins?” she hollered. “Yo' mama knows you up here? I'm gonna sho 'nough tell her—”

“Ma Rachel,” I said, trying to stay quiet as I could,
trying to keep Ma Rachel quiet, trying not to upset her any more. But Ma Rachel kept on ranting, kept ranting loudly too, and there I was, little ole boy on a crutch trying to keep my grandmama from cussing out these white folks and getting us into even more trouble. “Ma Rachel, come on back inside now,” I pleaded. “Come on back.”

“What they doin' here?” she asked me.

“They just come for water, like always,” I lied. “They be gone in a minute.”

“You, nigger boy!” cried Mr. McCalister Simms. “Don't you think you can get 'way! I'll see ya dead, ya try!”

I glanced back, saw the sheriff and Mama talking to Mr. Simms, and hoped none of those crazy Simmses would come to the house after me.

“What they means?” cried Ma Rachel. “I heard 'em! What's they mean?”

I took Ma Rachel's arm. “You know Mr. McCalister Simms, Ma Rachel. You know how he talks. He just talkin' and bein' mean and ornery like he always is.”

“Well…I wants him off this land.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Wants 'em all off!”

“Yes'm,” I said again and led her back into the house.

“Got no business here. They done took my name. They got no business here.”

“Yes'm,” I said one more time and wondered how I was going to go get Hammer with Ma Rachel's mind off in the last century again. Lord must've seen me struggling there in all my confusion because it was then Aunt Callie came on the back porch.

“What's goin' on in here, David?” she said soon as she was in the house and saw me holding onto Ma Rachel. “Heard hollerin'. What's goin' on?” Aunt Callie, like always, had come up to the house the back way and she hadn't seen all the commotion by the well on the other side.

Ma Rachel sat down in her rocker and stared out at the drive. Aunt Callie's gaze followed hers. “They's on our land,” said Ma Rachel softly, as if that should explain everything that needed explaining. “They's on our land.”

I motioned to Aunt Callie and we left Ma Rachel staring out the window and went out to the back porch. I told Aunt Callie right quick what was going on. Aunt Callie turned towards the drive.