"Kendrick Green, alright, let me just check for you..."
She typed his name into her computer and peered at the screen for a few moments, furrowing her brow with concentration.
"I'm afraid you can't see Kendrick right now. He's going to be going into surgery in an hour."
"Has he been sedated yet?"
"Not yet, no, but he's in a serious—"
"Look, this is a matter of life and death, and more lives might be at stake if we don't see him now. It'll take two minutes. I'm the principal of his high school, my name is Everett James, and this is the deputy principal, Ben Henderson. Please, please could you just bend the rules for us. Like I said, many more kids' lives are at stake here."
She breathed in deeply.
"I uh, I don't usually break the rules, but if there are lives at stake, especially children's, then I think I can look past a few regulations here and there. He's in room 35C, third floor. If you hurry, you can get to him before they start prepping him for surgery."
"Thank you so much!" I said, my gratitude genuine and obvious.
"No problem. I hope you can find out whatever it is that you need to find out!"
"Come on, Ben, let's hustle!"
We ran across the entrance lobby, skipping the elevators and heading straight for the stairs. We dashed up the three flights of stairs. Ben was pretty out of breath by the time we got to the top, but I still had plenty of steam left, even though my shoulder, with the gunshot wound, was aching a little. I didn't bother to wait for Ben; there was no time. Instead, I sprinted down the hallway, looking for room 35C.
I found it right near the end, and there, lying on a bed, with all sorts of tubes hooked up to his body, was a tall, skinny high school kid. He was still conscious, but he looked very woozy. I guess they had pumped him full of painkillers. Not bothering to wait for Ben, I charged into the room.
"Kendrick Green! Are you Kendrick Green?" I asked eagerly.
He turned his head slowly to the side and looked at me with a half-confused expression on his face.
"I... yeah... I'm Kendrick Green. Who... who are... you?"
"I'm Everett James, your new principal at JFK High."
"Oh, yeah, man... that's where... I saw you... before..."
"Listen, Kendrick, I heard about what happened. And I want to say thank you. Thank you for doing your best to fight these drug-dealing scumbags who are ruining these kids' lives in our neighborhoods and our schools. You're a true hero, Kendrick, a true hero – and I'll see to it that you're properly honored and rewarded for your heroism. Right now, though, before you go into surgery, we just need you to ID the kids who were buying the Rocket. Can you do that for us? Ben – Mr. Henderson, the deputy principal, he's bringing a yearbook to show you pictures so that you can show us exactly who it was who was buying the drugs. Can you do that?
"Yeah... I... can..."
Ben came stumbling into the room, huffing and puffing with his face bright red from exertion.
"He's still conscious?" he asked.
"I... am... Mr. Henderson," replied Kendrick, recognizing Ben.
"You're a good kid, Kendrick, a real good kid. And you did an amazing thing today. And we're very, very sorry that this happened to you. But can you help us, just with this one thing?"
"I can... I... can..."
Just then, however, a doctor burst into the room.
"Hey!" he shouted. "What the heck is going on here?! You're not supposed to be in here! No visitors in this ward at all! Get out, immediately! That patient is in critical condition! Get out now!"
"Just hold your horses, we need to ask him a question or two," I replied. "Then we'll leave."
"No, you'll leave right now."
"Ben, bring the book over here and show Kendrick the pictures."