Page 25 of Resilience on Canvas

“No, Hen, it... Look, I know this’ll make me sound like a monster, but I had been thinkin’ to myself lately that we’d be better off without him,” Robert said, echoing Henry’s own wicked thoughts.

It was like a tonic, helping to settle Henry’s stomach, which had been churning with shame for thinking that very thing.

But then, Robert pressed his lips together in the same manner he had before and shook his head.

“But losin’ him... it’s not a good thing. Not... like I thought it would be.”

It was then that Henry learned that hearts can shatter more than once.

Henry’s own eyes became misty from the impact of those simple words.

He moved to hold Robert once more, to pull him close, but Robert’s hands snapped up to clutch Henry’s shoulders, keeping him right where he was.

Robert squeezed them, his eyes widening while his fingers pressed into Henry’s skin, and a shiver of worry rolled up Henry’s spine.

Tension settled between them, and Henry braced himself, holding his breath.

Robert said, “Hen, my pop’s funeral, it’ll cost me three hundred dollars.”

Henry’s breath left him in one, fierce exhale. Christ Almighty, three hundred ?! Where would Robert even find that kind of money? Where would most people find that kind of money, especially now, with the country the way it was? Three hundred! It was robbery!

“Robert, that’s... that’s impossible. How can Mr. Simmons stand to charge that?”

“I know.” Robert released Henry’s shoulders and stepped back, running a hand over his weary face.

“I was initially thinkin’ that I could sell the car, maybe, but we need it once in a while, like when we have to bring some vegetables to the shops to sell, or for emergencies, like the time we had to rush Thomas into town for stitches.

So, I can’t sell it. It wouldn’t be wise.

Besides, the thing’s a piece of crap, too.

It wouldn’t even make us the full three hundred.

” Abruptly, Robert turned and smacked the countertop with one of his fists.

“Dammit, I can’t sell the tractor, neither.

If I sell that... that would mean that I’d be givin’ up the farm. ”

Henry tilted his head. “What d’ya mean?”

“Well, if the rains ever come back and the soil recovers, how would I manage the farm with no tractor? I wouldn’t have no money to buy a new one.

We’re hardly even hangin’ on right now. Dammit, my pop, he must’ve been payin’ the mortgage with the little money we’ve been makin’ sellin’ the vegetables and such, but I know we’ve been comin’ close to not payin’ some months.

If we’re ever in the position to build up our farm in the future, I’ll need the tractor.

I’ll need the combine, too. Not that I could even think of sellin’ that, though.

We share it with one of our neighbors.” He whacked the counter once more, but with his palm this time, and the loud smack made Henry wince.

“Son of a bitch, how the hell will I come up with the money?”

Henry sucked on his bottom lip, his mind working furiously to try to find a solution.

“Not to sound heartless or nothin’, but could you bury him on the farm?”

“Henry.” Robert let out a barely-there laugh and turned to place a hand on Henry’s shoulder.

“Sweet, sweet Henry. Three hundred is the price without purchasin’ a plot in the cemetery.

It’s the price of a casket and the service.

Not even includin’ the... the thing where they pump the person’s body full of them preservation chemicals. ”

“Embalmin’?”

“Right.”

After a rough squeeze, Robert let his hand fall from Henry’s shoulder.

Shifting his stance, Henry said, “Do you have to have a—”

“Don’t even fuckin’ say it, Hen. Of course I need to have a service.

Of course I need a casket. Raymond Davis was a mean son of a bitch, but he was still my father.

He still raised me. And what kind of example would I be settin’ for May and the twins if I threw him to the worms, hm?

No, I need a casket. At the very least I need that . ”

“Sorry,” Henry said, shrinking into himself a little. “I’m sorry, Robert. Yer right.”

Robert heaved a big, exhausted sigh.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.

But, God, what am I supposed to do now? My father’s rottin’ in the fuckin’ house as we speak.

Centipedes crawlin’ on him.” Robert wrinkled his nose, his lip curling, and then shuddered.

“Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I couldn’t make myself bring him to the funeral home yet.

Just in case... well, in case I will need to throw him to the Goddamn worms and centipedes and whatever other insects might want him. ”

Henry’s stomach soured, the thought of Raymond Davis’s corpse being feasted upon by those creepy crawly little bugs causing the bile to rise in his throat. Oh, Lord, he needed to help Robert figure something out. Fast.

“What if...” Henry paused to nibble on his bottom lip some more. “Did you check the bank?”

Robert raised one of his eyebrows. “Why would I?”

“Well, sometimes, people, uhm, they can take out a loan.”

“No bank that’s still standin’ will loan me the money for this.”

“Don’t you have money in the house?” Henry asked. “I mean, you said you’ve been payin’ yer mortgage?”

Robert’s eyes widened, his other eyebrow rising up to meet its twin.

“Jesus, Hen, that’s brilliant! Of course we have money in the house! ”

Henry’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he could help Robert!

The next time Henry met Robert’s eyes, he saw lightness and life and passion behind them once again.

And, God, was that ever magical. It seemed as though Henry had helped break Robert free from some horrible spell, shattering the chains of hopelessness that had been keeping Robert captive.

Now, he wouldn’t be no prisoner to melancholy no more.

He had hope. Henry had provided him with hope.

And that hope would see Robert through this.

“I need to secure me a loan, then,” Robert said. “Will the bank still be open later, you think? I have to work ’til four.”

“Go now,” Henry said. “I’ll watch the store.”

Robert beamed over at him.

“Jesus Christ,” Robert said, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

Stepping forward, he reached out to cup Henry’s cheek.

It was a bold move. Bold like Robert normally was.

Bold like Robert ought to have been. Henry leaned into it, soaking up Robert’s liking like parched topsoil starved for rain, and Robert rubbed Henry’s cheek with his work-worn thumb. “Yer one in a million.”

Henry smiled back, basking in the wonderment of it all.

With a wink, Robert pulled back his hand.

“I’ll be back,” he said, stepping away. “Soon as I can.”

“Good luck,” Henry said with a nod, though he was sure Robert wouldn’t need it.

Robert was a fine man. Everyone in town knew it. He’d have the money soon.

Over the next hour, Henry tended to the store, ringing up the only two customers who came in.

All the while, he let himself imagine the future that might soon be his.

With Raymond being gone, maybe Henry could stay with Robert.

He could pool the money from his salary with Robert’s, and together, they’d have enough to sustain everybody.

Henry could help make sure Robert’s family would stay fed and clothed while they waited for the rains to come back.

And then, they could keep the farm running themselves.

Clara could maybe teach someday, like Henry’s mom.

Or maybe she could work in the store herself by then.

Either way, they’d all be like a family.

And him and Robert, oh, they’d be like husbands .

Gosh, it would be like living out the most magnificent fantasy.

And then Henry could write to his folks and prove to them that he wasn’t as useless as they seemed to think.

Even if they ever figured out what him and Robert were to each other, maybe it somehow wouldn’t matter so much.

Because they’d see that their son was happy.

And that he had made his own family. And that he took care of that family, too.

Fiddling with one of the register keys—tapping it without pressing it—Henry let out what must have been the most lovesick-sounding sigh to have ever been sighed.

One in a million. What a fine life he and Robert would have together.

Henry was still running his fingers over the key tops, his mind lost in fantasy, when the entry bell rang.

He looked up to see Robert slowly staggering toward him as though in a stupor, the black cloud of hopelessness clearly having returned.

Henry’s false fantasies of their idealistic future poof-ed out of his mind instantly.

He hopped the counter and rushed toward Robert.

Dazed, Robert stopped in front of the canned vegetable selection, the vacancy in his pink-rimmed eyes making it seem like he wasn’t even sure where he was no more. As soon as Henry reached him, he took hold of Robert’s fingers, hoping to tether him back to reality.

“Good God, what happened?” Henry said.

Slowly, Robert’s eyes fell to their linked hands. He pulled away.

“Ain’t no money in the farm,” Robert said .

“What? How’s that even possible?”

“How do you think? It was him. It was my pop. Way back when we were still producin’ a lot of wheat, he took out a loan from the bank.

Dammit, I had completely forgotten, but a while back, we expanded our farm.

Borrowin’ money was the only way we were able to purchase the extra acreage.

Christ, the land we bought back then cost us a ton of money.

One and a half times what the same land is worth now. ”

“So, that means . . .”

“Our farm ain’t even worth how much the loan is for.”

Henry blinked twice. “But he must’ve been payin’ the loan back, right?”