“You know as well as I do that good days have nothing to do with money or with harvests or anything else,” I muttered. Dad’s bad moods weren’t the usual kind of bad mood. They didn’t only come on when things were bad, and they didn’t always go when things became easier.

Henry shrugged.

“Let’s ask him later. At dinner, maybe.”

“But what if he says we need to sell the tractor?”

“Then we sell the tractor and we make do with the horses for a year or two until we get a better crop. It has to rain sometime, and when it does, the yield will go back up and the price won’t even matter as much.”

Just as I’d been doing for my entire life, I took comfort in my brother’s confidence. I was soon too busy feeding the animals to worry, anyway. Henry fixed the wobbly disc on the plow, and Mother made navy bean soup for dinner. But as she was clearing the table after we ate, Henry cleared his throat.

“How much did the wheat fetch, Daddy? Judge said even top condition grain was only fetching sixty cents a bushel.”

Mother froze, her hand still extended toward my plate. She flicked a panicked look from Henry to Dad. Then she forced a smile and said, “Let’s not talk about that now—”

“Yes. It’s true,” Dad said. “Top grain got sixty cents. We got forty-two.”

The words fell like a bomb into the middle of the room. Henry and I sucked in air, and Mother sank back into her seat, resting the plates on the table in front of her chest.

“Will we sell the tractor?” Henry asked quietly.

“Can’t,” Dad said abruptly.

I was immediately pleased that a tractor sale was out of the question, but still, I clarified, “Can’t? Won’t, you mean.”

“No, Lizzie. We can’t,” Mother said quietly. “I mean, we could, but it won’t do us any good. We owe much more on the finance than it’s worth now.”

“But…we bought it in 1929. Shouldn’t we have paid it off by now?” Henry said.

Dad huffed an impatient breath and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Jesus Lord, give me strength. Henry, how am I ever going to send you out on your own if you don’t have the good sense to know it takes years to repay a tractor?”

“And how would I know, Dad, if you don’t tell me these things?” Henry said stiffly.