The Land by Mildred D. Taylor Page A

use, something you can always depend on to earn some money.”
    â€œLike horse training?”
    â€œNo. Like carpentry. Not just knowing how to nail two pieces of wood together, but how to build something fine and of quality. There’ll always be a need for that. The Lord Jesus Christ Himself was a carpenter, so you know you couldn’t ask for a better trade. You can use your horse training too, but carpentry is something solid and dependable, and there’ll always be a need for it. You’re good with your hands, Paul-Edward, and there’s no question in my mind that you’ve got a good head. You can learn whatever you set out to learn. That’s why I’m sending you to study with a man I know in Macon. He builds the finest furniture around. You can learn a lot from him. You can go to school while you’re there too.”
    â€œRobert’ll go to school with me then? He’ll study with this man too?”
    â€œNo. I’ll be sending Robert to school, but not there. I’m thinking on sending him to a boys’ school in Savannah.”
    I was bewildered. “But why can’t we go together? We’ve always studied together. Why not now?”
    My daddy took a moment before he answered. “Because you’re growing up.”
    â€œBut that’s got nothing to do with it.”
    â€œOh, but it does,” said my daddy. “It’s got everything to do with it. Robert needs an education, and so do you. But you can’t be educated in the same way.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œRobert’s white and you’re a boy of color. I can’t educate you in the same school—you know that. I can’t educate you in the same way either. I need to look out for what I think is best for each of you. Later, when you become of age and maybe want to do something different, that’s up to you. Right now, though, we’ll do things my way. Come the fall, Robert’ll go to Savannah to school, and you’ll go to Macon to study. That’s just the way it’s got to be. I figure that’s what’s best for both of you.”
    I didn’t figure that was what was best for us though, and neither did Robert. The next night after that trip, I spent the night in my daddy’s house, as I sometimes did. While Robert and I were waiting for sleep, Robert said to me, “Our daddy talk to you about sending us off to school?”
    â€œYeah,” I replied, and we both were silent.
    â€œWell,” said Robert as the moonlight slipped over us, “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go off to any Savannah school without you.”
    â€œWell, I’m not real happy about going to Macon myself,” I said. “I’d rather stay right here.”
    â€œMe too,” Robert agreed.
    â€œBut our daddy said I need a trade. Said you did too.”
    Robert sighed heavily. “Wish we could go together, same school.”
    â€œOur daddy said that can’t be.”
    Even though it was dark except for the moonlight, I could see Robert’s eyes on me. “You know, Paul, I hate it sometimes. Hate we’re not full brothers.”
    Robert had told me this before. Once he had even wished my mama was his mama too, and when he was younger, he had thought she was, for his own mama had died soon after he was born, and my mama was pretty much the only mama he knew.
    â€œI hate folks thinking of me as white and you colored,” he went on. “Wish folks thought of us as the same.”
    â€œWhich the same?” I questioned. “White or colored?”
    â€œDon’t matter to me,” said Robert without hesitation, “long as we were the same.”
    â€œI figure it’d matter you had to live colored awhile.”
    Robert was silent to that, then reluctantly agreed. “Maybe so . . . but I’ll tell you something, Paul. You don’t feel no different to me than Hammond or George. I hate