Henry | Teen Ink

Henry

March 17, 2016
By beachedwhale101, Gresham, Oregon
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beachedwhale101, Gresham, Oregon
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Author's note:

I wrote this because I love the Oregon beach, and I wanted to write something super unique. 

“Hey! You either buy something or you get out,” said the man behind the counter.
“What makes you think I’m not buyin nothin?” asked Henry.
He was only in the supermarket for about five minutes before the cashier started to assume the worst of him. Henry was used to this; he didn’t get much respect out of people in this town with the clothes he wore, but it was all he had. He wore beige khakis that were torn up at the bottoms, a faded black baggy sweatshirt, a giant heavy black backpack with a rolled up blanket that was tied to the top, and no shoes.
“Well, I’m just letting you know that you can buy something or go. I’m not assuming anything.” the man said. Even though both of them knew that was a lie, he was just saving himself the drama by covering up his insult that was obviously there.
“Yeah yeah yeah. One second.” Henry chuckled at how ridiculous it was and picked up a chocolate bar sitting on the shelf and brought it up to the counter.
“One sixty-five.” the man said not expecting Henry to pull out the money.
“Oh,” Henry froze.
The cashier tried to hold back a chuckle that Henry noticed and went to pick up the chocolate bar to put away.
“Just kidding, oh, and here’s a tip,” Henry said slamming a five dollar bill on the counter, taking the chocolate bar, and walking outside into the hot summer air of Seaside, Oregon.
Henry got his money in different ways. Ms.Jeanie the retired lady down the road, always saw Henry walking pastpassed her house and offered him job opportunities for some money since it was very clear of his situation. He would mow her lawn, clean her house, rake the leaves, paint walls, etc. She always found something for him to do because she didn’t want to just hand over the money.
As Henry was walking down the gravel road of the small town towards the beach, people taking walks would turn their heads to him and he always noticed them noticing him. He was very small, with a full grown beard that covered a majority of his face, but he had the heart of a child. He cared for everyone and was always polite even when people weren’t very kind to him. Money didn’t matter to Henry. Happiness wasn’t based off of what you have but was based off of how you live your life and the attitude you choose. He lived in a big fort he built about three years prior, on the beach out of large pieces of wood he found. It looked like a huge mess of wood that you wouldn’t assume was where someone lived, but that was Henry’s home, and he was fine with it.
At the end of the gravel road was some long yellowish green grass that had sand underneath it, and behind the tall grass was the big beach of Oregon. It was the middle of August so the sun was shining and the weather wasn’t too hot, but it was warm enough to give Henry a little bit of a sunburn on his cheeks.
When he approached the fort that he called home, he plopped down onto the sand. Although the walk wasn’t very long, the sun made it feel like he had been walking for miles. Taking off his backpack he remembered the chocolate bar he had bought., As he started to unwrap it,  he noticed someone walking around the beach talking to families, and the families would shake their heads and the person would move on to the next. Henry just sat and watched while eating his chocolate bar, until the person started walking towards him. As he got closer he realized that it was a police officer.
“Hey! You!” the police officerhe yelled.
Henry wrapped up his chocolate bar and put it in his bag, and stood up to talk to the officer. Henry wasn’t scared of the authorities.. They never bothered him, and never really patrolled the beach considering it was such a small quiet town. He never broke the law and for the most part he did what he could to stay out of everyone’s way.
“Me?” asked Henry.
The cop got closer and nodded.
“What’s your name?” he asked out of breath from running through the sand.
“Uh, Henry.”
“Well I’m Oofficer Padua. You wouldn’t happen to know this man would you?” he pulled out a drawing pad of a sketched out man with a beard like Henry’s. He even seemed to have the same nose shape.
“No… Did he do something bad? You don’t think it was me do you?” Henry started to worry and think about that cashier at the supermarket and how maybe he accused Henry of something he didn’t do.
“No, I don’t.” The officer shook his head and Henry sighed in relief.  “This man was found at around 3 AM this morning on this beach about a mile or two down, and was suspected to be a victim in an aggravated assault. I’m just asking around to see if anyone out here knows him or knows anything about him, he’s too unconscious to tell us anything. Do you know him?”
The man in the drawing looked very familiar to Henry, but Henry didn’t have any friends or family in Oregon that he knew of.
“I wish I could help. But I just don’t know who that is.”
The police officer looked confused and looked at the drawing and back at Henry.
“Really?”
“Yep,” said Henry.
“Well, if you suddenly remember who he is, come down to the Seaside Police Station down the road and answer some questions for us.”
Henry nodded and the officer walked away, both very confused.
Henry sat in his home laying against his backpack for a few hours just relaxing and enjoying the nice weather that didn't happen often in Seaside, and thought a lot about the man in the picture. Who was he? Henry hadn't had a friend since he lived in California with his family, but that was when he was very young. Henry left home at 12 years old, and hadn't really socialized since then because he'd been so busy trying to find his own ways to survive on his own.
His family wasn't horrible. They just weren't the right people for Henry, considering Henry was a vegetarian, had no religious beliefs, and didn't go to school because of the way the kids judged his appearance. He was the shortest of his class, and had an adult-like face for being in elementary school. Henry’s family was okay with him leaving, which was odd but just made him want to leave even more. They were always forcing their beliefs on to him and he was quite mature for his age.
The more Henry thought about his life, and who he knew, he remembered he had an older brother who left home a few years before Henry did, and no one heard of him since. Henry thought back to the picture he saw from the officer, and remembered the nose specifically because it looked just like his, short and wide. It was very rare to see anyone else with one like it. Could it be? He tried not to get his hopes up, because he didn't want to get let down. It made sense as to why the officer was so confused when he said he didn't know him.
Henry sat up and unzipped his bag looking for any change when he found two one dollar bills which was perfect to get himself on the bus, and to the hospital to meet the man in the drawing. He folded up the dollar bills and shoved them in his pocket, zipped up his backpack, and headed back to the road. The walk to the bus stop was about a mile long but it felt longer considering it was about 90 degrees outside, and his backpack sat heavy on his back the whole time.
When Henry arrived at the tall black pole with a big round sign on it that had the words Bus 09 in bold black letters, he took a seat at the nearest bench and waited for the next bus to arrive. It took about 20 minutes before a little blue bus came around the corner towards him. Henry jumped up and waved his arms in the air. The bus came to a sudden stop making a loud obnoxious screeching noise.
“Hi, ten miles to the nearest hospital please,” Henry said handing over his wrinkled up money.
“Two dollars, thank you,” the man behind the wheel said taking the cash.
Henry sat at the back of the bus in a window seat watching the trees go by through the windows, and thinking about what he was even going to say to the man in the hospital. He suddenly realized, he had no idea what he was going for, or what he was going to say to the injured man that could possibly be his brother. It’s been 25 years since they have been together and what if he didn’t recognize him?. Henry started to get nervous, and right then the bus pulled up in front of the Seaside Oregon’s emergency room.
Henry stepped off the bus and slowly walked into the hospital feeling every nervous.
As he approached the counter the lady behind it looked up and flashed him a friendly smile that he rarely got out of anyone. Was this a sign?
“Hello, how can I help you today?” she said in her friendliest voice. Noticing the clothing he was wearing her smile shortened a bit.
“Uhh. My brother was uh… Beat…” he stuttered and realized he didn’t know any information about him, or even himself to get him in the hospital room.
“You’re lucky this is a small town, doesn’t happen quite often around here. I know who you’re here for. Do you have a name?” she asked looking at her computer, picking up the phone and dialing a number.
“Henry,” he said. The one word that came out clear.
She put the phone to her ear and waited for a response.
“Hello, you have a visitor, name is Henry. Can I send him down to you?” There was a long pause which made Henry even more nervous. “Okay, sweet. He’ll be right there,” She hung up the phone and looked back at Henry. “Door 205, right over there.” pointing to the hallway behind him.
“Thank you,” Henry nodded and walked towards the door.
Standing in front of door 205 he waited about ten seconds before entering, preparing himself for rejection, but then he walked in.
“Henry?” The man in the bed started to sit up before a couple other doctors in the room nudged him to lay back down.
“H- Hi.” Henry was in shock. How did he remember him?
“Where have you been? How did you find me?” he said.
His face was swollen and red; he had a cut along his eyebrow with stitches holding it together.
“An officer asked me to identify you… But I didn’t believe that it was really you. I’ve been living on the beach in a shelter I built out of wood. Where have you been? What happened?”
Henry had so many questions that he had prepared. But was trying to ask one at a time.
“I’ve been living on the beach too. One of the best beaches in the country. Remember when momma would take us down here every summer? She liked the cool air more than California’s.”
“That’s why I chose it,” Henry said, sitting down.
“Me too,” the man said.
“I was so young when you left home, what’s your name?” Henry asked.
“Stephan,” he said “and when I’m out of here, we’re not separating again. We’re a team.”
Henry nodded, feeling warm and protected for the first time in many years.



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