Janet brought her lips close to Gabriel’s left ear. She cupped a hand over his right ear, as if to prevent her message from floating out the other side of his head. Gabriel nodded stiffly. He took a step back and fell back into line. Shawna didn’t bother to ask what Janet had said. Gabriel chewed his lip. When I looked down, I could see his small hands clench at his sides. I turned to Shawna, but before I could speak, she silenced me.

“It will be worse.”

Gabriel looked like he might burst, his face flushing as we clamored into the backseat of the car again to head home. Janet walked so serenely that I was certain Gabriel must not have told her of his urgent need for a bathroom.

But once all four tires were on the road and the church was shrinking in the rearview mirror, Janet flipped the sun visor down. It had a small mirror in it so that we could see her seething.

“Why is it that we cannot get through a church service without you threatening to wet your pants?” she asked, exasperated.

“But I really need to go,” Gabriel cried.

“How many hours do you sleep at night? Ten? Twelve?” Everett yelled. His voice exploded in the small space of the car. I looked to Shawna, who had one hand on Gabriel’s leg. Her head was lowered as if she were in prayer still. “If you can hold it all night long, how is it possible that you can’t hold it for a simple service?”

Everett whipped a sharp left turn, crossing two lanes and spinning into a graveled parking lot of a long brick building. Shawna fell against my left shoulder until the car righted itself and came to a sudden stop. Though the road was busy, the parking lot was empty.

Gabriel’s cheeks were streaked with tears by then. He sniffled, his leg tapping furiously as he held both hands over his groin.

“Go on. Get out of the car if you need to go so bad,” Everett said coolly. He kept his hands on the wheel. “But stand where we can see you.”

Gabriel unlocked the door and stepped out. He started to run toward the edge of the parking lot when Everett rolled his window down and called out to him.

“Stand where we can see you, I said!” He jabbed his finger toward the hood of the car. Gabriel ran back. It was painful to watch him struggle but hard to look away too. I felt bad about it, but later realized all people are terrible in that way—ready to cause a car accident just to get a good look at the one that’s already happened.

Gabriel stood in front of the car, his hands fumbling with the buttons of his pants. Between his tears and trembling fingers, he was struggling.