Michael had set the alarm for 6:30 am, but it hadn't been necessary. Knowing that he couldn't afford the chance of oversleeping, his body hadn't allowed him to rest soundly. He awoke abruptly at 4:47, his knees locked and shoulders tense. He had remained in bed, watching the clock while the shadows slowing lightened in the room. At 6:28, he slipped out of bed, turned the alarm switch, and walked quietly into the kitchen.
He constructed a meager sandwich out of bread ends, peanut butter and old honey. The bear's head had already developed a crystallized ring around its opening, but Michael was certain that honey couldn't go bad. Surely it took years to spoil, he thought as he placed the bottle back in the cupboard. He searched in vain for anything else to add to the lunch, before wrapping the sandwich in paper towels, then placing it back into the empty bread bag.
After washing his hands, he examined the clothes he had laid out the night before, smoothing wrinkles that weren't even there. He checked the shoes, hoping to find no mud or obvious scuffs. Contented, Michael located his book-bag lying on the floor, picked up his algebra book and removed a dollar from the small pile of bills he kept stacked within the pages. He placed the dollar in the front pocket of the trousers before returning to the bedroom.
"Lincoln," Michael said softly, but firmly. He approached the crumpled form, being careful not to step on what Lincoln had scattered on the floor the night before.
"Lincoln," this time louder, with a firm hand on his shoulder. "You need to get up." Michael noted Linc's expressionless eyes and heavy limbs.
"I picked out clothes for you, all you need to do is wash up. I put some money in your pocket, if you hurry you can stop and get a cup of coffee on your way."
No response.
"Lincoln, please," Michael tried not to plead, "We need the money." With less resolve now, "You can't be late on your first day."
Lincoln made as if to get up, then abruptly rolled to his other side, turning his back to Michael.