Page 50 of Resilience on Canvas

Henry smiled back, basking in the wonderment of it all.

With a wink, Robert pulled back his hand.

“I’ll be back,” he said, stepping away. “Soon as I can.”

“Good luck,” Henry said with a nod, though he was sure Robert wouldn’t need it.

Robert was a fine man. Everyone in town knew it. He’d have the money soon.

Over the next hour, Henry tended to the store, ringing up the only two customers who came in. All the while, he let himself imagine the future that might soon be his. With Raymond being gone, maybe Henry could stay with Robert. He could pool the money from his salary with Robert’s, and together, they’dhave enough to sustain everybody. Henry could help make sure Robert’s family would stay fed and clothed while they waited for the rains to come back. And then, they could keep the farm running themselves. Clara could maybe teach someday, like Henry’s mom. Or maybe she could work in the store herself by then. Either way, they’d all be like a family. And him and Robert, oh, they’d be likehusbands. Gosh, it would be like living out the most magnificent fantasy. And then Henry could write to his folks and prove to them that he wasn’t as useless as they seemed to think. Even if they ever figured out what him and Robert were to each other, maybe it somehow wouldn’t matter so much. Because they’d see that their son was happy. And that he had made his own family. And that he took care of that family, too.

Fiddling with one of the register keys—tapping it without pressing it—Henry let out what must have been the most lovesick-sounding sigh to have ever been sighed.

One in a million.What a fine life he and Robert would have together.

Henry was still running his fingers over the key tops, his mind lost in fantasy, when the entry bell rang. He looked up to see Robert slowly staggering toward him as though in a stupor, the black cloud of hopelessness clearly having returned. Henry’s false fantasies of their idealistic futurepoof-edout of his mind instantly. He hopped the counter and rushed toward Robert.

Dazed, Robert stopped in front of the canned vegetable selection, the vacancy in his pink-rimmed eyes making it seem like he wasn’t even sure where he was no more. As soon as Henry reached him, he took hold of Robert’s fingers, hoping to tether him back to reality.

“Good God, what happened?” Henry said.

Slowly, Robert’s eyes fell to their linked hands. He pulled away.

“Ain’t no money in the farm,” Robert said.

“What? How’s that even possible?”

“How do you think? It was him. It was my pop. Way back when we were still producin’ a lot of wheat, he took out a loan from the bank. Dammit, I had completely forgotten, but a while back, we expanded our farm. Borrowin’ money was the only way we were able to purchase the extra acreage. Christ, the land we bought back then cost us a ton of money. One and a half times what the same land is worth now.”

“So, that means . . .”

“Our farm ain’t even worth how much the loan is for.”

Henry blinked twice. “But he must’ve been payin’ the loan back, right?”

Robert clenched his teeth, fury flaring to life on his face. “Hewas, but... Goddammit, that bastard stopped payin’monthsago. And now we’re in trouble! NowI’min trouble! That son of a bitch left me withnothin’! Mr. Richard, the man I spoke to, he said that the bank sent us a letter last month. Not that my bastard father ever showed it to me, but Mr. Richard said it was one of those foreclosure letters. We’re losin’ the fuckin’ farm, Hen!”

“No!” Henry said, his own eyes filling with tears. “No, that can’t happen!”

Robert choked out, “Where will we live?”

Every word of Robert’s question was wrought with such pain and misery that Henry almost fell to his knees. He wanted to cry out, to curse God, to curse everything and everyone, for how in the world could something like this happen to someone whose heart was sogood?

Henry reached for Robert’s hand one more time, but Robert pulled back.

“I-I can’t,” he said, his voice so soft that Henry could barely even hear him. “What if someone sees us? I wasn’t thinkin’ earlier. I can’t have no one findin’ out that we... that I...”

Robert squeezed his eyes shut like maybe he was fighting to keep more tears from coming. Sorrow erupted from Henry’s eyes instead, tears slipping down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if Robert was saying that they couldn’t hold hands no more forforeveror only right then, but still, Henry’s heart began to break for the third time that morning. It was breaking for Robert. It was breaking for Robert’s family. It was breaking for their picture-perfect future that wouldn’t never come to be. Henry let out a sob and hated himself for it.

He wanted to be strong for Robert. But he couldn’t manage it. It seemed like no matter how badly he wanted to be strong, he’d never be nothing but a pathetic little lamb.

“Don’t cry, Hen,” Robert said, his bottom lip trembling. But Henry couldn’t stop. Robert curled his hands into fists. “Goddammit, Hen, stop it!Please!”

Henry inhaled a trembling breath.

“Okay,” he eked out, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Robert let out a small, frustrated scream.

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