Soon, his clothes become as hard as armour. He laughs. He is a knight! “Faster!” he commands his legs. But they refuse. Each step is slower, more arduous, as if he’s climbing Kilimanjaro. He is exhausted. The weight of his clothes pulls him down. He lies down for a moment to catch his breath. Above him, a roof of twinkling stars, and as he watches them, his thoughts begin to dim. “Stay awake!” he orders himself. But soon, he falls into a frozen slumber.

Mansoor picked up the fallen piece of paper from the floor and slid it across the dining table to Layla.

“Twenty-four hours?” she asked, examining the sketch for the new sign. VISRAM SPEEDY GAS & CONVENIENCE: OPEN 24 HOURS.

“I’m going to move into the station, but only until I can hire someone for the night shift.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s the only way to improve sales.”

The gas station was one of the only stops on the lonely stretch of highway between Rocky Mountain House and Red Deer, and until last year, it attracted a constant flow of customers. But now, hours went by without a single customer. The economy slipped into a deep recession and interest rates skyrocketed to close to twenty percent. In a matter of months, oil rigs were shut down and construction companies abandoned their sites, leaving behind communities of partially built structures like skeletons throughout the province. For several months now, Mansoor had been unable to make his loan payments on time and the bank had put him on notice.

“No.” Layla shook her head. “I won’t let you leave us. Not again. Sell that business. Please.” She pushed the sheet back to him and crossed her arms. “I won’t raise our children alone.” Layla was three months pregnant.

“And who’s going to buy it in this economy, Layla? Who?” He crumpled the drawing and threw it on the floor.

She turned away.

They sat in silence, then he pulled his chair close to her. “Look, Layla, I’m doing this for us. For the children. This is no way for us to be living.” He tilted his head toward the window overlooking the townhouse parking lot.

“We have to make the sacrifice now. There’s no other way.” He took her hand in his. “How else are we going to make it in this country?”

She turned to him. “We will come with you.”

“But I don’t want you to be in the middle of nowhere. Not now. Not with the baby coming.”

She had no argument to that. He also did not want to disrupt Ashif’s education.

“It’s just a temporary matter,” he said.

“Promise me you’ll be back by the time the baby is here.”

“I promise.”

Later that morning, they packed his things and he gave her a set of post-dated cheques.

Ashif stood on the sidewalk as Mansoor pulled his Chevy out of the driveway.