Page 70 of Resilience on Canvas

After a few more steadying breaths, Robert continued into the Holt Corporation building.

Inside, there were rows and rows of cargo, just as he had suspected, some of the skids piled high with wooden boxes, others with linen sacks, and workers were navigating between them, transporting things out of the warehouse-type building to the pier with hand trucks.

In the far corner, there was what looked to be a small office.

Either that or this wasn’t the right place to talk to someone with enough authority to hire him.

Robert started walking toward it. He had to take his chances .

When he reached the closed door, he sucked in a long breath, held it for a few seconds, and knocked, exhaling while he waited for someone to come.

Not ten seconds passed before the door opened.

The man who answered wore a nice suit that contrasted with the less fancy clothing worn by the men working with the cargo.

“Good morning,” he said. “Can I help you with something?”

Robert took out the flyer and held it up for the man to see.

“Are you still hiring?” he asked, his voice tight with the hope he was trying to hold back.

“I am. Are you looking for work?”

“Yes, sir,” Robert replied.

After a moment, the man tilted his head. “Where are you from?”

Robert’s stomach seized. Goddamn son of a bitch, if this man rejected him because he had come from Oklahoma...

“Oklahoma, sir. I moved here from a little town called Guymon. Came to San Francisco to escape the storms we have out there.” He paused to swallow his fast-rising nervousness.

“Back in Oklahoma, I was a farmer. I spent some time workin’ as a shop clerk as well.

I know in my heart that I’d be a fine long-shore-man.

” Robert’s cheeks flushed as he said the last word.

It still felt funny on his tongue. He hadn’t never even heard of one before reading that flyer.

“I’m a hard worker. Strong, too. And I hope you will consider hirin’ me. ”

Robert’s plea hung in the air for four or five seconds—some of the longest seconds of Robert’s life—and then the man held out his hand.

“George Holt.”

“Robert Davis,” Robert said, grasping the man’s hand to shake it.

“Can you work thirty hours a week?”

“Gladly. ”

George’s lips curled into a smile. He let go of Robert’s hand and retreated into his office, motioning for Robert to follow.

“Come in. We’ll talk specifics.”

Robert sucked in a breath, his chest expanding from a sudden fierce swell of hope. Lord Almighty, had he finally found work? After over a year of searching? Thunderstruck, Robert followed George Holt into the office and reminded himself not to cry.

***

Thirty minutes later, Robert was sprinting back toward the car wearing a smile so Goddamned wide his whole fucking face was hurting.

Holy hell, George Holt had hired him! Starting the following Monday, Robert would be a longshoreman.

God, he’d never thought he could feel so happy to know he’d be spending thirty hours every week moving a bunch of crap from place to place, but here he was. Good Lord.

“Hen! Clara!” he cried out as he neared the car. Henry immediately threw open the door. “I got it! I got the job! I’m a Goddamn long-shore-man now!”

“Oh my God, that’s incredible!” Henry exclaimed as his eyes flew wide, a smile bursting to life on his face.

Robert and Henry collided in what had to have been one of the best, most enthusiastic hugs that Robert had ever received. It took a whole hell of a lot of strength to keep from pulling Henry into a kiss too. God, would Robert make up for their forced modesty that evening.

“I’m so proud of you, Robert,” Henry said, leaning back so that he lifted Robert’s feet off the pavement. “So, so proud. ”

“Thank you,” Robert said as Henry set him back on the ground.

And the moment Henry released him, Robert turned and scooped Clara up in a hug.

“I had a good feelin’ about this one,” she said next to his ear. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Clara,” Robert said, squeezing her tight before letting go. “For everything.”

Still standing there next to the car, Robert told both of them everything about the job.

He’d be working thirty hours every week, sometimes Mondays to Fridays and other times Tuesdays to Saturdays, making ninety-five cents an hour.

He’d have time off for vacations and for religious holidays, both.

And , best of all, George Holt had agreed to hire Joe, too, as long as Joe came by within the next day and George liked him okay.

Which he would. Robert was sure of it. God, how perfect it was!

After Robert was finished telling Henry and Clara about the job, Clara took the two men to the beach before leaving for work.

On the beach, as Robert settled on the sand next to Henry, a pang of wistful sadness struck him in the chest. Soon, the two of them wouldn’t be spending practically every waking moment together no more.

Sure, they’d still see each other plenty , but Robert would miss being Henry’s househusband, even if the idleness had been hard sometimes.

Over the next two hours, Robert listened to the waves crashing nearby while watching Henry paint.

When the ocean receded and low tide began, Robert pushed himself to stand and kicked off his shoes.

After removing his socks, he walked toward the water, pausing when he reached the wet sand.

He spent some time poking holes in it with his big toe, relishing both the feel of the sand on his feet and the scent of the salty sea.

Moving closer to the water, Robert continued playing with the sand but stopped when he saw a small stream of water shoot up from beneath the surface.

He knelt to inspect it, wondering if there was something living there.

Carefully, Robert plunged his fingers into the sand near the tiny hole from where the water had come.

When his fingers brushed something hard, his first instinct was to recoil, but he soon realized it was a shell.

“Hey, Hen!” he yelled. “Come over here!”

Henry hurried over as Robert shoved his hand back into the sand. Sure enough, the shell was still there. Digging below it, Robert turned his hand to scoop upward as soon as Henry reached him.

Henry settled beside him. “What is it?”

Robert lifted his hand. Along with the mound of sand he had scooped up, there was a creature with a pinkish-white shell.

“I think it’s a clam.”

Henry craned his head to have a closer look. “Is it... alive?”

“I think so? I saw some water spurt up out of the wet sand here.” He turned the clam over in his hand and saw something beige and gooey inside. He tilted it toward Henry. “Ain’t that him in there?”

“Maybe?” Henry took the clam from Robert and inspected it. “Goodness, I think that is him. Or, well, the shell is part of him too, right?”

“Yeah, it must be. It’s not like he found some random old shell and crawled up inside it.” Robert thought for a moment. “I wonder if he can feel us touchin’ him.” He bent down to bring his face closer to the clam. “Don’t be afraid, little fella. We won’t hurt you.”

Henry smiled sweetly. “Geez, Robert, before we became friends, I never would have thought I’d ever see you talk to a sea creature like that. ”

“Yeah, I’m a real pile of mush underneath my bastardness, huh?”

Henry snorted a laugh.

“Soft like the inside of a clam,” he confirmed.

Robert shoved Henry sideways with his elbow, eliciting a chuckle. Robert laughed along with him. Henry began to pet the top of the clam with two of his fingers while Robert watched. Waves of warm fondness lapped against his heart with every stroke.

Robert leaned in and said, “Hey, remember when I said that I would report back to you on how happy the clams were? If I ever managed to come out here to the coast?”

Henry laughed softly. “I remember.”

He held out the clam. Carefully, Robert took him back, knowing that they ought to return him to his home soon.

“What do you think?” Henry asked. “Does he look happy?”

Robert lifted him up like he was really trying to scrutinize the clam’s emotional state.

“Yeah,” he said, lowering his hands. He turned and locked eyes with Henry. “He does.”

Together, they reburied the clam, facing the visibly squishy part up toward the surface since they figured that must have been the place from where the water had come. Robert hoped that he’d survive okay.

When he was satisfied that the little fella was as close to at home as he could be, Robert plopped backward on his butt, and Henry copied him. Then, for the next few minutes, they watched the waves.

“Are you happy, little wolf?” Robert finally asked.

“Yeah, I’m happy. I’m real happy,” Henry said with a sweet smile. “What about you?”

“Yeah,” Robert said. He inched his hand toward Henry’s and touched their fingers together. “Happy as a clam.”