Page 49 of Resilience on Canvas

Henry’s breath left him in one, fierce exhale. Christ Almighty,three hundred?! Where would Robert even find that kind of money? Where wouldmostpeople find that kind of money, especially now, with the country the way it was? Three hundred! It was robbery!

“Robert, that’s... that’s impossible. How can Mr. Simmons stand to charge that?”

“I know.” Robert released Henry’s shoulders and stepped back, running a hand over his weary face. “I was initially thinkin’ that I could sell the car, maybe, but we need it once in a while, like when we have to bring some vegetables to the shops to sell, or for emergencies, like the time we had to rush Thomas into town for stitches. So, I can’t sell it. It wouldn’t be wise. Besides, the thing’s a piece of crap, too. It wouldn’t even make us the full threehundred.” Abruptly, Robert turned and smacked the countertop with one of his fists. “Dammit, I can’t sell the tractor, neither. If I sell that... that would mean that I’d be givin’ up the farm.”

Henry tilted his head. “What d’ya mean?”

“Well, if the rains ever come back and the soil recovers, how would I manage the farm with no tractor? I wouldn’t have no money to buy a new one. We’re hardly even hangin’ on right now. Dammit, my pop, he must’ve been payin’ the mortgage with the little money we’ve been makin’ sellin’ the vegetables and such, but Iknowwe’ve been comin’ close to not payin’ some months. If we’re ever in the position to build up our farm in the future, I’ll need the tractor. I’ll need the combine, too. Not that I could eventhinkof sellin’ that, though. We share it with one of our neighbors.” He whacked the counter once more, but with his palm this time, and the loudsmackmade Henry wince. “Son of a bitch, how the hell will I come up with the money?”

Henry sucked on his bottom lip, his mind working furiously to try to find a solution.

“Not to sound heartless or nothin’, but could you bury him on the farm?”

“Henry.” Robert let out a barely-there laugh and turned to place a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Sweet, sweet Henry. Three hundred is the pricewithoutpurchasin’ a plot in the cemetery. It’s the price of a casket and the service. Not even includin’ the... the thing where they pump the person’s body full of them preservation chemicals.”

“Embalmin’?”

“Right.”

After a rough squeeze, Robert let his hand fall from Henry’s shoulder.

Shifting his stance, Henry said, “Do youhaveto havea—”

“Don’t even fuckin’ say it, Hen. Of course I need to have a service. Of course I need a casket. Raymond Davis was a mean son of a bitch, but he was still my father. He still raised me. And what kind of example would I be settin’ for May and the twins if I threw him to the worms, hm? No, Ineeda casket. At the very least I needthat.”

“Sorry,” Henry said, shrinking into himself a little. “I’m sorry, Robert. Yer right.”

Robert heaved a big, exhausted sigh.

“No,I’msorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. But, God, what am I supposed to do now? My father’s rottin’ in the fuckin’ house as we speak. Centipedes crawlin’ on him.” Robert wrinkled his nose, his lip curling, and then shuddered. “Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I couldn’t make myself bring him to the funeral home yet. Just in case... well, in case Iwillneed to throw him to the Goddamn worms and centipedes and whatever other insects might want him.”

Henry’s stomach soured, the thought of Raymond Davis’s corpse being feasted upon by those creepy crawly little bugs causing the bile to rise in his throat. Oh, Lord, he needed to help Robert figure something out. Fast.

“What if...” Henry paused to nibble on his bottom lip some more. “Did you check the bank?”

Robert raised one of his eyebrows. “Why would I?”

“Well, sometimes, people, uhm, they can take out a loan.”

“No bank that’s still standin’ will loan me the money for this.”

“Don’t you have money in the house?” Henry asked. “I mean, you said you’ve been payin’ yer mortgage?”

Robert’s eyes widened, his other eyebrow rising up to meet its twin.

“Jesus, Hen, that’s brilliant! Of course we have money in the house!”

Henry’s chest swelled with pride. Heknewhe could help Robert!

The next time Henry met Robert’s eyes, he saw lightness and life andpassionbehind them once again. And, God, was that ever magical. It seemed as though Henry had helped break Robert free from some horrible spell, shattering the chains of hopelessness that had been keeping Robert captive. Now, he wouldn’t be no prisoner to melancholy no more. He had hope. Henry had provided him with hope. And that hope would see Robert through this.

“I need to secure me a loan, then,” Robert said. “Will the bank still be open later, you think? I have to work ’til four.”

“Go now,” Henry said. “I’ll watch the store.”

Robert beamed over at him.

“Jesus Christ,” Robert said, his voice soft and filled with warmth. Stepping forward, he reached out to cup Henry’s cheek. It was a bold move. Bold like Robert normally was. Bold like Robert ought to have been. Henry leaned into it, soaking up Robert’slikinglike parched topsoil starved for rain, and Robert rubbed Henry’s cheek with his work-worn thumb. “Yer one in a million.”

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