The Boy in the Gray Hoodie

30...

30…

He said he was going to make everyone better. But in order to do that, James would have to hurt Roy again. Pamela couldn’t let him do that.

            They had been sitting in a gravel parking lot for nearly an hour, waiting. They had eaten from the café across the road, a silent, anxious meal, and had then returned to the truck to carry on their anti-conversation.

            The front seat creaked as Pamela leaned back against it, letting her hands drop from the steering wheel. Gripping the leather was making her fingers sore. She crossed her arms instead, staring out the windshield at the empty lot.

            “You can’t stop progress.” James stated quietly as he checked his cellphone for messages or missed calls. He was still holding out hope that Lisa would call him. But his inbox was empty except for several texts from Marley. He would deal with her later.

            “Is that what you think this is?” Pamela scoffed with a grimace. “Hurting innocent children? That’s progress?”

            “It is what’s necessary.”

            “Have you tried doing it differently?” she wondered aloud.

            James gave a sharp sigh. “This method has been proven most effective.”

            “But how do you know? You said there were no other subjects. Doesn’t that mean there were no other trials? How can you be sure that what you’re doing is the only way?”

            “After twenty years, you don’t think I’ve explored every possible scenario? You don’t think I’ve run every test, tried everything I possibly could?” James shook his head. “This is the only way. Believe me.”

            “Tell me how it works, then.” Pamela ordered. She was still staring out the windshield—too angry to even look at him.

            “Are you asking about the process, or the results?” he inquired flatly.

            “Both.”

            “You don’t want to know.” James retorted with a bark of a laugh.

            “Tell me anyway.” Pam snapped.

            James sent her a frustrated glare. “Why do you think it is that people will take all kinds of medications, but never ask for the details of each trial? No one reads side effects as long as they feel better from the pills. Why is this any different?” he demanded. “What happens to that boy is merely a side effect of the end result.”

            “You’re saying that as long as hurting Roy cures cancer, no one will care?” it was Pamela’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

            “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying!” James retorted.

            “Well you’re wrong! I care!” she cried, looking at him for the first time in a while.

            “You care? You just met him a few days ago.” James nearly laughed.

            “You’re damn right I care.”

            “Fine,” he raised his chin up a notch. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. But believe me, it will only make it more difficult for you later.”