Page 5 of Resilience on Canvas

Chapter Three

Robert

Robert plunged two fingers into the glass jar of Vaseline, collecting enough for himself and for his brothers, both of whom were playing marbles by his feet.

Taking care not to smear the colorless blob onto the label, Robert balanced the container in his palm and replaced the screw-top lid.

After setting it back onto the counter, he knelt.

“Thomas, you first,” he said before stuffing some of the Vaseline in his brother’s nostrils.

“Why’re we wearin’ this stuff today?” Thomas asked, his face contorting in a sour expression.

“Car wouldn’t start this morning.” Robert switched over to Peter.

“We’re walkin’ to church, and it’s mighty windy right now.

Gotta try to keep our lungs clear. Or, clear enough.

We’ll put rags over our faces and wear the goggles, too.

Ain’t exactly a short walk into town. Hopefully it won’t be so windy later when we walk back. ”

“Can’t we skip church?” Peter asked.

“No, we can’t,” Robert said, though he wouldn’t have had too much of a problem with it himself.

But he’d promised his ma that he’d bring the boys up right.

And that meant making sure they went to church on Sundays.

Even the Sundays when the wind was blowing and there might not be many others in the pews.

“Don’t even think of asking me that again, neither. ”

After Robert prepped his own nose, he found Clara and May in the bedroom finishing up stuffing their noses, and then everyone took some fresh rags from one of the cupboards. Well, everyone except their pop. He wasn’t nowhere to be found. Bastard.

After wetting the rags with some water from the well and positioning them over their noses and mouths, they began the walk to church.

Luckily, the wind had settled some. And even though it was hot, it wasn’t too hot.

It wasn’t the kind of heat that made you feel like your skin might blister from only a few minutes in the sun.

Or, hell, even melt clean off the bone, like in the middle of summer. Thank God it was still only April.

Halfway to town, the bottom of one of May’s shoes ripped clean off, and then Robert had to carry her on his back the rest of the way, which meant that it was tricky to keep holding the rag to his face, especially when May started swaying and squirming and saying that she was uncomfortable.

Only three minutes into the carry, Robert abandoned the rag.

Shoving the fabric into his pocket, Robert took a breath and welcomed whatever nature might bring.

Even if that something might mean a windstorm that filled his lungs with sand.

Probably he shouldn’t have smoked that cigarette last night.

While they walked, Robert had to fight to keep his expression neutral.

Crossing the open fields was so Goddamn sad.

What had once been miles of wheat had turned into a barren stretch of nothing.

Nothing except soil that wasn’t useful no more.

And rabbits. Hundreds of ’em. Christ, how long had it been since the last rabbit drive?

Six weeks? Eight? It was probably time for another.

Goddamn son-of-a-bitch rabbits were taking over, eating every leaf and berry they could.

Hopefully the town would rally together soon to kill more of the pests.

Because it was a miracle that them Hoover hogs hadn’t massacred the few remaining crops on their property.

Just then, a horrible thought popped into Robert’s head.

What if the critters feasted on their plants while they were in church?

What the hell would they even eat, then? Damn tumbleweed salad for every meal?

Gnashing his teeth, Robert fought to contain the fury and nervousness now swirling in his belly. He only stopped when Clara caught his eye and he saw the worry on her face, the emotion manifesting as horizontal lines rippling across her forehead above her goggles.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just thinkin’ about these Goddamn Hoover hogs.”

Clara nodded. “Well, we put up that barbed wire fence. Should hold ’em off for a bit. At least ’til we’re back from church.”

“Yeah, I sure hope so,” he said, heaving a breath.

Once they reached the church, they shuffled into their regular pew, one toward the back of the nave.

Robert felt more comfortable on the periphery in houses of worship, what with how he was and everything.

He’d have probably stopped coming altogether if it weren’t for his siblings.

Not that he minded most of the Christian teachings. But some...

Robert shook his head to shoo the thought away. None of that mattered right now. Because he needed to be here for his family. He needed to be here for his mother.

Soon, the pipe organ started to play. The sickly string of notes coming from what had to have been slightly clogged pipes was making the instrument sound as though its life was slowly fading, like its vitality was being choked out, even in this Goddamned holy sanctum.

If that wasn’t the most perfect symbol of what was happening to the people of Oklahoma, Robert wasn’t sure what else was.

During the song, Robert looked toward the front right corner of the room and caught Henry staring. At Clara, most likely.

Robert nudged Clara with his elbow.

“See that?” Robert said, nodding toward his sister’s future husband. “He can’t take his eyes off of you.”

Henry’s head immediately whipped back around to face the sanctuary, and Clara’s eyes fell to the floor.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s what’s happenin’,” she said, seeming to shrink into herself a little. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It seemed to me like he was lookin’ at you.”

Robert snorted. “Yeah, maybe he’s worried I’ll beat him senseless for ignorin’ you. Didn’t I tell you how frightened he was when I visited the store yesterday?”

Clara only hummed in response, keeping her face low, and so, Robert nudged her more forcefully, trying to lift her spirits, but it only elicited a little half smile from her.

If only Clara could see how lovely she was.

No matter how many times Robert tried to make her see her worth, no matter how many times Robert tried to instill a bit of confidence in her with some sort of compliment, Clara never seemed to believe him.

Instead, she seemed to be becoming more unsure of herself with each passing year.

If Henry called off the wedding, Jesus Christ, that might break her completely.

Robert’s blood ran hotter, fury over something that hadn’t even come to pass making him feel like a pot of corn mush threatening to boil over.

Henry looked back once more. Poor bastard must have sensed how mad Robert was, because his eyes blew so wide, Robert thought they might pop right out of his head.

Then Henry turned back to face their minister, who had started shuffling toward the pulpit.

And Robert tried to wipe the nasty scowl off of his face before the start of the service.

After church, while everyone was making their way out of the pews, Robert told Clara to catch Henry instead of coming home with them. Once the two of them talked, Clara would see that Henry had only been feeling shy, like he said. She’d see that Henry still wanted her.

God willing.

After Clara left to find Henry, Robert had to see his siblings home.

Hopefully the rabbits hadn’t chewed off every leaf in the garden by now.

Lucky for Robert, the twins weren’t fighting for the moment, and May seemed to have come around to the idea of walking home barefoot.

It was even clear enough out for them not to need to wear their goggles.

Perhaps the long walk wouldn’t be so bad. Even without Clara’s help.

Half a mile or so into the walk, they came across a baby rabbit, one who looked to be injured somehow. It was lying on its side, its breathing ragged and shallow and much too fast, and though Robert couldn’t see no blood, he knew that the thing wasn’t long for this world.

May knelt beside it, shoving her rag into the front pocket of her dress.

“Can we help him?” she asked.

“Afraid not,” Robert said with a shrug.

May’s face fell, the hope leaving her light-brown eyes. “Oh.”

Robert felt a twinge in his chest, May’s concern for the little vermin tugging at his heart.

Before he could try to make May feel better, maybe by reminding her that this would mean one less rabbit ravaging their farm, Thomas and Peter shoved May back to inspect the creature themselves, letting their rags fall into the dirt.

“Aw, it’s so little,” Thomas said .

Robert smiled weakly. Thomas always was the more compassionate of the two.

Peter reached out to touch it but ended up hovering his hand a few inches from the rabbit’s belly. “Where’s its ma?”

“Dead, probably,” Robert said.

“Yeah, maybe someone knocked her with a club,” Peter said.

“That’s sad,” Thomas remarked, his voice filled with genuine sorrow.

Peter nodded while May let out a whimper.

Robert winced, the twinge of pain in his chest worsening.

“Poor baby,” May said with a sniffle.

Damn, that hurt. May’s kindness sure was something.

Her beautiful little soul was making the world better, Robert was sure of it.

He knew right then and there that the compassion May possessed, even for these pesky Hoover hogs, had to be protected.

And it seemed like his brothers still had some of that compassion in them, too, though it’d been tempered a little.