Winnipeg had seemed much closer when they’d taken the family car. Henry kicked a stone as he trudged along, listening to the insects humming around him in the warm June night. But now there was no stupid car, and he was walking down the stupid road in the middle of the stupid night!
The full moon turned the trees to shimmering silver in the gentle breeze. As he passed farm after farm, he noticed hobo signs on several gateposts. One looked like a lightning bolt, and Henry copied the zigzag line into his journal with a note that it meant the house must have been struck by lightning.
He was tired and wondering how much farther it was to Winnipeg when a worn-out farm truck rattled to a stop beside him. The rust bucket was in sad shape, and there were two scrawny cows in the back, which didn’t add to the appeal of the ride. It smelled strongly of manure, and Henry tried not to breathe through his nose.
“Where you headed, young fella?” the driver, a scarecrow of a man, asked as Henry climbed in.
Henry had thought of a believable story to explain why he was on the road at night alone. “My pa sent me home with money for my mother, and now I’m going back to Winnipeg to help him on his job.”
This immediately aroused the driver’s interest. “Your pa has work? I don’t suppose the company he’s working for is looking to hire another man? After I sell these heifers, I’ll be looking for work myself. I’m hoping for six dollars a head. That’ll carry my family for the rest of the month, but then we’ll be needing more money.”
Henry felt cornered. “Ah, actually, this is his last week, and then we’re going to find other jobs so we can send more money home.”
This seemed to surprise the man. “Well, if that don’t beat all. Your pa has a real positive outlook on life. I’ve been looking for any kind of work and I can’t find anything, not even sweeping sidewalks or digging ditches.” He glanced furtively at Henry. “How you planning on living until your pa gets more work? The police don’t take kindly to vagrants—folks with no money and no place to live. Why, they throw those poor souls right in jail.”
“Oh, I’m no vagrant,” Henry said proudly. “I have five dollars cash money.”
“Five dollars! You’re rich, son. I should warn you; there are a lot of ruffians out there who would rob you blind. Do you have your money stashed someplace safe?”
Henry patted his jacket pocket. “Yes sir, I sure do.” Feeling like a man of the world, he sat back to enjoy the ride. The miles bumped by and, exhausted from his long night, he soon drifted into a doze.
Henry was startled awake by a hand in his pocket. The truck was parked on the side of the road, and he could smell the farmer’s rank breath. “Hey, what are you doing, mister?”
The man’s eyes were wild. “My family’s starving and I ain’t got nothing but these measly cows to sell. I need that money!” He made a lunge for Henry.
“No! You can’t have it!” Henry struck out with his fists, punching the man in the face with all his strength.
The man recoiled, cursing. “I’m gonna tear you up, kid!”
Grabbing his bag, Henry threw open the door and bolted into the trees at the side of the road. He slipped into the undergrowth and hid until the farmer grew tired of searching for him. As he watched the taillights of the truck disappear into the night, Henry still couldn’t believe the man had tried to rob him. He had seemed so friendly.
Henry didn’t feel safe until the sun came up and he saw a sign on the road that said Welcome to Winnipeg.
Winnipeg was a big place, but Henry didn’t want to waste any of his precious money on streetcars. After getting lost several times and having to ask directions from impatient strangers, he finally found the boarding house where his father was staying. His pa would be so glad to see him, Henry was sure they’d go out for a big steak dinner to celebrate!
He walked up the broken wooden steps and knocked on the door. The sun was hot, and he desperately wanted a drink of water. His father would have water to give him—cool, clear water. At last a white-haired woman opened the door.
“I don’t have any spare food, so move along,” she snapped.
She was about to slam the door when Henry blurted out, “I don’t want food. I’m looking for my father, Michael Dafoe. He’s staying here.”
The old woman hesitated, frowning. “Never heard of him.” She started to close the door again.
Henry pulled the picture out and held it up. “This is my pa. His letter said he’s staying here and that he was going to work on the Glenmore Dam and Reservoir Relief Project.”
The woman peered at the picture. “We’re not big on names around here. There’s no need. No one stays long enough to bother. Your pa was here, but he left about a month ago.”
Henry felt a crushing wave of disappointment, followed by a flash of fear as he realized what this meant. He was alone in a strange city. What would he do now? “Did he say where he was going?”
“No, he didn’t.” The woman waved her bony hand dismissively. “They come and they go.”
“Can you at least tell me how to get to the Glenmore Dam project?” Henry waited as patiently as possible, but patience wasn’t one of his strengths.
“Never heard of it, sonny. Try the Canadian Pacific Railway yards. That’s where all the men go to get jobs.” She pointed. “Head west. You can’t miss it.”
The woman shut the door, and Henry stood staring at the weathered wood. The paint was peeling and the door was in serious need of repair. It occurred to Henry that if his father should return, it would be a good idea to let him know that Henry was looking for him. He felt around in his book bag and pulled out the stub of a red crayon. He looked at it and thought of Anne. Red was her favorite color. At the bottom of the door, he drew a small smiling face and, beside it, a letter H with an exclamation point. That was how Henry had signed notes to his father back home. Stuffing the crayon into his jacket pocket, Henry looked at what he had drawn. It was very much like a hobo sign. His father had been right. It was a great way of communicating.
This was not how he’d imagined today would go, but he was sure he’d find his father at the train yard and everything would be fine. Henry turned and started down the battered steps.