Page 47 of Resilience on Canvas

Chapter Twenty-Four

Henry

Rose and Joe, who were only one hundred or so feet ahead, must have seen him, too, because they soon sped up and then pulled over beside him. Henry stopped behind their car. After Henry cut the engine, Robert’s eyes fluttered open, but only for a moment.

“Are we there?” he asked, his voice raspy and slow, eyes now shut once again.

“Not yet, but, uhm, there seems to be a camp of some sort?”

Robert snorted. “Are you askin’ me or tellin’ me?”

“Both?”

With a half groan, half laugh, Robert opened his eyes and stretched before looking out the window.

“Huh,” he said, when he spotted the camp. “I wonder if they’re travelers or...”

“Well, there was a sign back there too,” Henry said, thumbing over his shoulder.

“Makes me think they’re people who came here to work.

You know, to pick cotton and fruit and such.

Rose and Joe are talkin’ to some fella who was walkin’ toward the camp.

” He pointed to their vehicle. Rose was speaking to the man from the window.

“I bet they’ll find out.” After a pause, Henry said, “Would you want to maybe work here? If we could?”

“Well, maybe, but I wouldn’t want to live in no tent. I mean, I can’t have my family livin’ somewhere like this.”

Henry sighed and said, “Gosh, yeah. I hope we can find work in the city.” He tilted his chin up, motioning toward Joe and Rose’s stopped car. Rose was climbing out, and the man they had been talking to had restarted his walk toward the camp. “Here we go. Rose will know somethin’.”

Henry and Robert climbed out of the car.

“Who was that?” Robert asked, shutting the door behind him.

“His name’s Wilfred Johnson. He's walking to that camp up ahead,” she said, pointing toward the tents. “He says he has a cousin staying there. He was staying there before, too, but he tried to find work in the city.”

Robert and Henry continued walking toward the other car.

“Guessin’ this means he couldn’t find nothin’,” Robert said.

“No, he couldn’t,” Rose confirmed. She offered them a sympathetic-looking half smile, but her sweetness couldn’t stop Henry’s stomach from lurching.

Holy heck, no work in the city. Rose continued, “But, look, he had to be twenty years older than the four of us. I think that we’ll have better luck than he had. Truly.”

Her false optimism only made Henry’s stomach churn harder. What if they couldn’t find work? Maybe they’d have to live in a tent, then. Oh, Lord.

“Did he say how much the farm here pays?” Robert asked.

Rose replied, “I couldn’t bring myself to ask.”

Robert let out an irritated huff. Henry winced. Even though he wanted to help Robert feel better, he couldn’t make himself move. He was too busy feeling sick from the way his worry was continuing to mash his intestines into a mush fit to make a batch of potato pancakes.

“Alright, well, let’s head out,” Robert said, turning and taking hold of Henry’s sleeve.

Robert’s rough yank reminded Henry of when they’d first met, and it helped settle his stomach enough that he managed a smile.

When Henry still must have been moving too slow for Robert’s liking, Robert pulled him once more. “Quit stallin’, Hen! ”

Robert’s harsh tone made Henry’s stomach swoop in a mighty pleasant way.

Once they reached the truck, Robert nudged Henry toward the passenger side. Henry was still smiling to himself. Guess Robert was too mad to sit without no way to occupy himself now and wanted to take over for the rest of the trip.

Robert pressed the starter button and pulled up on the choke to start the engine, his swift movements practically oozing some of that still-rumbling irritation he must have been feeling.

Henry bit his lip. God, he’d love for Robert to be that forceful with him someday while they were in bed together.

Just pin him to the mattress and take what he wanted, pleasure-wise. Whatever it was.

While the engine sputtered and roared to life, Robert looked over to meet Henry’s eyes, and he had to have seen the lust in them because he smirked and said, “What?”

Henry blew out a long breath and fanned himself.

“Robert, that temper of yers, it fires me up too,” he teased.

Robert continued to stare for a few seconds—his eyebrows upturned and mouth slightly open—but then he threw his head back and started cackling.

“Jesus, Hen, what is wrong with you?” he said, through a laugh.

He let out what was probably supposed to be another one of those irritated huffs, but he was still smiling so it wasn’t nearly as impactful.

“Dammit, now I’m happy! Son of a bitch, I’m supposed to be burnin’ up over the fact that we might not find work in San Francisco, but you ruined it.

” He took Henry by the shirt collar and pulled him close. “Goddamn bastard.”

Humming, Henry said, “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you too,” Robert said with a sigh, releasing Henry’s now-rumpled shirt. “Well, let’s keep headin’ to the city. I’m sure Charles Sherwood will make me mad within the first twenty minutes of seein’ him. ”

“Probably,” Henry said. “Gosh, I better say a prayer that we can find some privacy, then.”

“Stop that,” Robert chastised. “Or it’ll be a real uncomfortable ride for both of us.”

Henry only chuckled. He nearly said sorry, but he wasn’t sorry, really. He was having too much fun. And clearly Robert was too. Henry couldn’t help but feel relief that he had found a way, even if it was a silly one, to make Robert feel better.

Robert pulled onto the road, stepping heavy on the gas to catch up with Rose and Joe.

After a few minutes, Robert said, “Do you think we’ll find work somewhere?”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s a ‘no.’”

“I mean, I think there’s a chance of you findin’ work. But I haven’t worked nowhere except the store. Who would want me?”

“Don’t talk like that. Everyone will want you. Look how strong you are. Smart, too. And that whole sketchbook you showed me...” Robert shook his head. “Incredible.”

Henry smiled to himself, though he wasn’t sure how his so-called artistic talent could ever help them. Still, it was sweet that Robert had been so impressed by it.

About two hours later, they reached San Francisco.

From there, they had to find someone who knew how the heck to find the house they were looking for.

It was confusing to be trying to navigate such a large city, one that none of them had been to before.

Even with the help of maps, it was easy to become turned around, and the way some of the streets were sloped like a mountain wasn’t helping, neither.

Finally, after forty or so minutes of searching, they seemed to have found the house—pale blue in color, which wasn’t what Henry had expected.

Otherwise, it looked like the photograph that his parents had shown him.

It was somehow both smaller and larger than Henry had thought it would be in person.

It wasn’t very wide, but it was taller than the houses in Guymon by a good measure—three stories if you could count the bottom one, which was level with the street, even though the main entrance was up a whole set of stairs.

Along the left, there was a column of windows, one set on each floor.

After parking in front, everyone climbed out of their vehicles.

Since Joe and Rose were supposed to stay with the Sherwoods for a night or two, they were coming too.

Tomorrow, Joe and Rose would probably first focus on finding somewhere to live, rather than securing some kind of work.

Goodness, they had so much money saved up still from that contest. Even if they couldn’t find no work for a month or two, they would survive just fine.

Joe met Henry and Robert near the foot of the stairs, and he rocked back on his heels while whistling in a real exaggerated manner.

“Nice house,” he said.

“Yeah, uhm, I think my parents must have had more saved up than I thought. Or maybe this bank will be payin’ real well?” Henry said, his ears turning hot.

Even though the Sherwoods weren’t rich , they certainly had more money than a lot of folks, especially more than a lot of the people in Guymon now, with so many struggling to produce enough from their farms to make ends meet.

Chewing on his lip, Henry swiveled his head back and forth to survey the other houses on the street.

Most of them looked pretty similar in terms of their construction.

So, maybe Henry’s family wouldn’t stand out so much here.

It would be like being back in Oklahoma City in some ways, where Henry hadn’t really thought of his family’s status so much.

He wondered if his parents would miss little old Guymon.

They seemed to like the pace there, as well as their place in the town.

Would they miss the way that everyone knew who they were?

Henry wouldn’t. He liked the thought of blending in with the crowd a bit more.

It had been a lot of pressure to live up to the Sherwood name in Guymon—to be the son of a (former) bank manager, the son of one of the town’s two schoolteachers, and the nephew of the man who ran the largest corner store to boot.

It would be nice to just be Henry for once, without everything that had come with being “Henry Sherwood.”

While these thoughts were running through Henry’s brain, he caught Robert’s eye. Robert threw him a wink, one that made Henry’s chest swell and his stomach tumble. Gosh, he loved Robert so much. Maybe out here in California, Henry Sherwood could be Henry Davis instead.

Together, everyone walked up the stairs, and Henry’s palms were sweating by the time he had to knock. It would be strange to face his folks and to live with them for a while now that him and Robert were together in a romantic sense.

After a minute, Henry’s mother opened the door.

“Henry,” she said, wrapping him up in a warm hug .