Page 53 of Resilience on Canvas

Starting toward the bedroom, Henry’s legs began to shake. He’d never seen a corpse before. Death wasn’t so uncommon here in Guymon lately, but somehow, Henry had managed not to be confronted with the reality of the hardships everyone had been facing. At least, he’d been spared the worst of it. Until now.

When Henry reached the bedroom, he needed to grit his teeth to contend with the sudden rush of pain that shot up both of his legs from having trembled so violently on the way.Come on, Henry. Be strong.Swallowing thickly, Henry turned the knob, and the stench that wafted out in one big puff when he inched open the door made his stomach lurch. Quickly, he hooked his shirt over his nose and pressed the fabric to his face. Then, he forced himself to keep going.

There, on the bed, was Raymond Davis, one of the most intimidating men Henry had ever had the misfortune of meeting. He looked so much smaller now. Strangely enough, he looked peaceful, too. If Henry had been born without a sense of smell, he could have sworn that the man was only sleeping. Keeping his nose pinched, Henry moved closer to the bed and tried not to gag when he noticed a few insects skirting over the man’s skin and ratty button-up shirt. Robert had mentioned centipedes in the store, but these seemed more worm-like. Millipedes, maybe. There weren’t too many of them yet, but Henry knew that there would be more soon.

Gosh, they couldn’t leave Raymond here much longer.

Ignoring the roiling in his stomach, Henry refocused his thoughts on the reason he had come in here. He needed to find that sock monkey. He breathed in shallow breaths through his barely open mouth as he began to search the room. Thankfully, the monkey wasn’t nowhere near Raymond but was resting on a broken rocking chair in the corner of the room. Henry snatched it and quickly spun around to leave.

When he returned to the living room, the twins were waiting in front of the stove, Clara nearby holding the first sock monkey. Henry held up the one he had retrieved from the bedroom, letting his makeshift mask fall from his face.

One of the twins rushed over, smiling with relief.

It seemed like he had known all along that the other monkey hadn’t been his.

Handing the other monkey back to the second boy, Clara looked up at Henry with a small smile and said, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied, rocking back and forth on his heels. He needed to tell Clara that they had to move Raymond somewhere before there wasn’t nothing left to bury but a bunch of bones. Dang, he was not prepared for this. “But, uhm, can we... talk?”

“Sure.” Clara cleared her throat loudly enough that both of the boys stopped playing with their toys to look at her. “I need you two to play out back for a bit.”

Henry cut in. “Clara, the wind?”

“Ain’t too windy today. And I can’t send them to their room, not with our pop close by.”

Lesser of two evils.

“Alright,” Henry relented.

He’d have to make sure not to take too long. If poor May had been coughing on and off lately, it probably wouldn’t be longbefore the other children’s lungs started hurting, too, especially if they spent too much time outside.

Once the boys were out of the house, Clara led Henry over to the couch where May was sleeping.

“Won’t we wake her?” Henry said.

“Not if we whisper.” Lowering herself slowly, Clara settled on the cushion closest to May’s feet. Gesturing to the empty chair nearby for Henry to sit, she said, “May was up cryin’ a lot of the night. Cryin’ and coughin’. I think she was only coughin’ so much because she was workin’ herself up with all the wailin’. It’s hard to lose someone. Even when that someone is... less than perfect.” Her next breath shook. Henry winced as he sat. Poor Clara. Poor kids. Goodness. “It was scary to see him pass, Henry. He had a fever, and he... he wasn’t breathin’ right and then...”

“Oh, Clara.” Henry took her hand. “I can’t even imagine.”

“We couldn’t even find help. I mean, we knew it would be too expensive to try to find a hospital or somethin’. We weren't even sure if he’d survive the ride. Gosh, Henry, we were such a mess for most of the evenin’. All of us.”

“I know. I saw Robert. He looked real tired this mornin’.”

Clara blinked back tears. “How’d our pop look in there? I can’t bring myself to check on him. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“He, uhm, he looks peaceful. But we need to move him.”

“Robert told me it would be three hundred for the casket and the service. I know we’re probably supposed to contact someone, but Robert told me to wait.”

“Yeah, I think you need one of them, uhm, official papers now? A death certificate?”

“Once we have that, though, we’ll need to bury him. Henry, three hundred dollars...” Clara shook her head. “I’m sure the folks at the funeral home would let us pay with an IOU, but we wouldn’t never be able to pay it back. Maybe if we... if we soldthe tractor or... or the car, even. But I know Robert wouldn’t never sell either of them.” She pressed her lips together and stilled as though she was only barely holding back the swell of emotions inside her. Eventually, she eked out, “It’s hopeless, ain't it?”

Henry’s chest pinched, those last two words twisting the knife that was still stuck in his gut.

“I can pay for it,” Henry blurted out, his voice no longer a whisper. “I can pay for them to take yer pop. And I think I have enough money saved up to pay for some of the funeral.”

Softly, Clara said, “But not enough for everything.”

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