Page 34 of Resilience on Canvas

“No, no, I’m only here for some cereal and corn and such.”

He waved his hand a couple of times, his thick silver brows furrowing as he shuffled toward the boxes of Corn Flakes and Rice Krispies and other cereals. Robert and Henry looked at one another. Still sporting a strained smile, Henry shrugged. Oh, if only he could warn Robert of what would likely happen next.

Mr. Miller picked up one of the boxes of cereal and shook it a few times.

“They’re not fillin’ ’em right,” he said. “Dang company is cheatin’ us.”

“Uhm.” Henry shifted his weight. “Them boxes are the same ones we had on the shelf last month when you came in here. They’re... what’s the term? Shelf stable?”

“Well, they were practically empty, then, too,” he said before bending over to inspect the price sticker, as though maybe if he looked closely enough, it would change somehow. “Ten cents?!”

“Same as—”

“Nuh-uh,” Mr. Miller cut in. “Last month, a box of cereal costfivecents.”

“Uhm . . .”

Normally, Henry would push back a little more (with varying results), but he was finding it hard not to be embarrassed in frontof Robert. Maybe he ought to lower the price outright so that Mr. Miller would leave. Henry could find the extra five cents himself later.

Before he could open his mouth to relent, Robert cut in.

“Can’t you hear right? Mr. Sherwood said it’s ten cents.”

Mr. Miller’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t take that tone with me, Robbie.”

“My name’s Robert, not Robbie. I ain’t a kid no more. Now, this is only my first shift, but Mr. Sherwood here trained me well. And them prices are current. Cereal’s ten cents.”

Mr. Miller let out a huff. “Fine.”

Robert’s lips curled into a smug smile while Mr. Miller placed a couple of boxes into his basket. As Mr. Miller finished shopping, Robert threw Henry a not-so-subtle wink, and Henry’s breath caught. Why was Robert still so flirtatious? And why had he swooped in there like some kind of... like some kind of knight in one of them fairy tales? He seemed toknowit, too. Gosh, this back-and-forth would cost Henry his mind and his heart, he was sure of it.

Mr. Miller came up to the register with some peanut butter, two boxes of cereal, two cans of corn, and one loaf of bread. Henry looked over at Robert.

“Do you wanna try to total ’em?” he asked. “Might help you learn how to use the register better if you punch the keys yerself.”

“Yeah, sure.” Robert cracked his knuckles. “What’s first?”

“Alright, well, first we need to have you press one of those buttons on the left. They’re the, uhm, the clerk buttons. I think they’re probably more useful in larger stores. Like when there’s a bunch of folks who might be workin’ the register over the course of a few hours? But it won’t work unless we press one so, uhm, I press the ‘H’ button because of my name and Uncle Bob, he chose ‘B.’ Maybe ‘D’ can be yer button? Because of yer name? Davis?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, Hen,” Robert said, pressing his finger to the little white key.

“Next press the charge button,” Henry instructed, and Robert pressed one of the red ones. “And now, punch in the total.”

Robert’s hand hovered over the keys, and his eyes flitted to the items on the counter. Henry realized from Robert’s hesitation that he hadn’t memorized the prices yet.

Henry said, “So, ten cents for each cereal box, eight cents for the bread, twenty-three cents for the peanut butter, and five cents for each can of corn.”

Robert cleared his throat. He reached for one of the cans, touching his fingers to the metal and tapping it twice.

“Five . . . plus . . . five . . . plus . . .” He tapped the paper-wrapped bread. “Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-three,” Henry corrected hesitantly. “Sorry.”

“Right.” Robert’s eyebrows knitted together. “Five plus five plus twenty-three...”

He paused.

“Makes, uhm, thirty-three,” Henry said.

---