Page 29 of Resilience on Canvas

Henry

WhenHenryreturnedhome,he found his mother in the kitchen cooking supper. The house smelled like bean and vegetable stew, one of Henry’s favorite meals. He especially liked when his mother experimented with it, throwing new meats and vegetables in the pot. One time, she had even found some kind of spicy pepper in the city to mix in with the stew. Nowthathad been tasty. Food like that, it could knock you on your rear and make you feel alive.

“Supper’s ready,” she said, stirring the pot once more.

“Smells good,” Henry said, placing the tin of potato pancakes on the counter beside her. “I’m a little full, though, so maybe I can eat later?”

“Full?” she said before setting her spoon on the white ceramic spoon rest. Her eyes found the nearly empty tin. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uhm, Robert made potatuh pancakes for me. You know, Robert Davis? Clara’s brother?”

She smiled. “I know who Robert is. Why’d he make ’em for you? I thought he’d be mad that you called off the weddin’.”

“Well, I helped him out a little at his farm. Earlier, before I left for work, I, uhm, I think I mentioned that I stayed over therelast night? And one of their cows died in the storm yesterday, so when I was there, we had to, uhm, take care of it. And I offered Robert some of my shifts at the store. To make it up to him for not marryin’ Clara like I was supposed to.” Henry shifted his stance from one foot to the other, clutching one of his elbows with the opposite hand. “I talked to Uncle Bob today. He said it wouldn’t be no problem so long as I know I’d be makin’ less money. Do you mind if I let Robert have a couple of my shifts? I feel so bad for... everything.”

She sighed. “No, that’s fine, but I really wish you’d—”

“—reconsider. I know.” Henry lifted his shoulders and tucked his head, wishing he could hide from her. And from his own shame, too. “I’m sorry.”

Seconds ticked by on the wall clock, each one more uncomfortable than the last.

Finally, his mom said, “Well, I suppose I ought to be happy that Robert ain’t mad. How about Clara, though? Is she upset?”

“Maybe a little?”

His mother shook her head a couple of times, tsking.

“Poor woman. And they’re such a nice family too. May’s in my class. And I taught Peter and Thomas both last year. All of ’em are fine kids.”

“Yeah...” Henry frowned. Gosh, he really had mucked everything up. At least Robert could bring home some more money, though, since Henry had thought of offering up his shifts. He wished his mother could see that he had tried his best. “But maybe these shifts in Uncle Bob’s store will help ’em, you know?”

Henry’s mother only hummed. Henry hung his head. Sure, he had tried his best, but his best wasn’t never enough, and this was no exception. He wasn’t sure if he could stand being home for much longer tonight, being looked at like he was a failure. Hopefully she would let him step out for a while.

Henry said, “Since I’m not so hungry right now, maybe I could head over to see Joe and Rose?”

“Alright,” his mother said through yet another sigh. “Don’t stay out late, though.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll leave a bit of stew for you. Heat it up on the stove when you’re hungry.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to the floor.

If Henry hadn’t been born the way that he was, with the romantic inclinations he had, his mother would have been proud of him by now. Henry would have probably made a life for himself. How shameful it was to be halfway through his twenties and still leaning on his parents like this.

Shame sat heavy in Henry’s stomach as he hurried upstairs to find his sketch pad. After shoving it into one of his packs, he stuffed his charcoal pencils in there with it and then looked out one of the windows to check on the weather. It was breezier than it had been earlier. So, Henry left for Joe and Rose’s house with an old shirt wrapped around his face to cover his nose and mouth from the brown flecks that were lingering in the air, floating this way and that with the wind.

Joe and Rose Evans were Henry’s only friends. Or, well, Henry was friends with Clara now, too. And Robert. Kind of. But Joe and Rose reallyknewHenry. They knew him in a way that nobody else knew him. And, so, Henry knew that it would make him feel better to spend some time with the two of them. Part of him couldn’t help but worry that he’d be bothering them with his impromptu visit, but Joe and Rose were the type of people who loved company. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind Henry showing up out of the blue like this. Gregarious and friendly, Joe and Rose were loved by practically everyone they met. It was probably one of the reasons why Rose had been so successful back in New York City, too.

Before moving to Oklahoma in 1928, Rose had been a singer in the Big Apple. Ironically enough, she had moved to Oklahoma for the fresh air. Well,mostlyfor that. There had been a second, secret reason for her move, but that had been the main one. Her relocation was only ever supposed to be temporary. But then, while staying with her relatives, Rose had met Joe in church. And the two of them had fallen hard, both of them pulled toward the other instantly like two magnets. Rose and Joe had been married for five years now. And they were still so happy.

By the time Henry reached their house, he was already feeling a smidge better, some of the shame that had been percolating in his stomach having calmed. Standing on Rose and Joe’s rickety porch, Henry shifted his weight from one foot to the next and lifted his hand to knock. He rocked back and forth on his heels while he waited for someone to come. His eyes flitted over to the little patch of crops that they had left—a couple of rows of pea plants, carrots, and potatoes. It really wasn’t much, was it? Probably Joe and Rose were struggling to feed themselves, like a lot of the people here in Guymon. Golly, how terrible it was.

Henry was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Rose’s face lit up the moment she saw him.

“Henry Sherwood!” She pulled him in for a hug, her thick, perfectly set brown curls bouncing and spilling onto his shoulders. “I’m so relieved! Joe and I were worried about you. You weren’t caught in that horrible storm yesterday, were you?”

Henry squeezed her back. “Yeah, I was, but I’m fine. Me and Robert Davis were—”

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