Never Wake by Gabrielle Goldsby

prayed.
    “He told you right. I do need him to help me with my work.”
    “Hoyt.” Ms. Carter’s voice had softened and The Boy heard papers shuffling. Neither of them seemed to notice that he was still bent over. He clenched and unclenched his stomach. The pressure was building so much that he had begun to rock. Some-bitch Some-bitch . Should he tell them he had to go? No, they’d make him stand up. He didn’t know what was worse: peeing his pants in front of Ms. Carter or the beating he would get for embarrassing Hoyt.
    “Do you know your son wants to be a doctor?” His penis felt like it had shriveled up into his stomach.
    “A doctor,” Hoyt said and then he laughed. “He’s seven years old.”
    “It’s never too early to start children toward their future. In ten years, your son will be ready for college. With grades like his and his sharp mind, he could be eligible for a full scholarship.”
    Hoyt sat with his heel propped back against the leg of his chair, pressing so hard that his calf muscles stretched the seams of his pants. Something dark and brown spotted his white sock and The Boy wondered if it were Pam’s blood. He had seen old blood several times in his life. But Pam had been fine this morning, aside from the black eye. It dawned on The Boy that Ms. Carter had just told Hoyt that she thought he could go to college someday. She thought he could be a doctor. A doctor. He sat up and looked at her. His resentment was gone, along with his need to pee.
    “If my boy wants to go to school,” the emphasis on “my” made The Boy’s fingers stumble as he tried to tie his shoes, “money won’t be a problem.”
    It was such an obvious lie The Boy could imagine Ms. Carter’s eyes bugging out of their sockets. He hoped they weren’t. He hoped she didn’t question Hoyt on anything, because that was never a good idea.
    “Of course not, Mr. Pokorney. I was merely letting you know that I think your boy has a chance to do so, if he wants to become a doctor.”
    Hoyt’s laugh rang out again. “You’re back to calling me ‘Mr. Pokorney’ again.” Hoyt’s voice sounded odd. The Boy was embarrassed, as if he shouldn’t be in the room. Ms. Carter wasn’t moving; her eyes were glued to Hoyt. Watching him like anyone would who’s keeping an eye on a dangerous thing. He wondered if she had seen it, if she had figured out what he had known all of his life. There was something missing in Hoyt. It was like those gorillas at the Oregon zoo. They seemed peaceful, but there was nothing in them that would make them feel bad if they decided to tear you apart.
    “Thank you for taking an interest in my boy. I’m sure his mother will be real happy that a seven-year-old could make such an impression on his teacher.” Ms. Carter looked as if she was going to correct Hoyt and then thought better of it. She looked at The Boy and he smiled at her letting her know that it was okay. He was eight years old, not seven. It didn’t matter that his father didn’t remember how old he was, but it did matter that she knew.
    Hoyt stood up as if he’d realized he needed to be somewhere else, and Ms. Carter did the same. More words were said, but The Boy didn’t know what they were, and then he was looking at the back of Hoyt’s muscular body as he hurried to catch up. He didn’t remember saying goodbye to Ms. Carter, but he hoped he had.
    Once inside the truck, country music blared through the one working speaker in the passenger door. The engine caught on the first try and The Boy hadn’t even muttered his prayer. He felt himself relax. The seat that he shared with Hoyt shifted and the music lowered until he could hear the truck’s steady idle. The Boy closed his eyes and turned, as if looking out the window. It would start now.
    “A doctor, huh?” Hoyt’s voice was too calm.
    “They said we had to put something.”
    “Why a doctor?”
    “’Cause they help people.”
    “You sure you don’t just want to look at