Free Response by Paul Volponi Page B

pushing myself to keep up close on Hendricks’s heels.
    I got there right behind him, and saw Hendricks take a long look at Grandma stretched out on the floor. He kneeled down next to her, doubling up his palms on top of her chest, pushing down, again and again.
    And what suddenly jumped into my brain was that speech Hendricks gave about his new “hands-off” policy.
    Then Hendricks put his lips over Grandma’s, giving her two long breaths.
    Mom buried her head into my chest, crying, “Lord, don’t take her!”
    But my eyes were glued on them.
    Hendricks kept repeating that CPR cycle. Finally, he checked Grandma’s pulse, and then backed away, giving her room to breathe.
    EMS workers came charging into the class with all of their equipment.
    Then I watched Hendricks wipe his mouth off on the sleeve of his shirt, before he walked away without saying a word.
    I didn’t know if I wanted to run him down and hug him tight for what he did, or if I wanted to wrap both my hands around his throat and strangle the life out of him for who he really was.
    Grandma was conscious again before the EMS workers carried her down the stairs on a stretcher.
    â€œStop fussing over me this way,” she said in a weak voice. “I’m all right now.”
    I called my father on his cell phone to let him know that we were heading to the hospital. But his train must have been deep underground, because he didn’t pick up and I had to leave a message.
    â€œIt’s me. Grandma got sick! She passed out at my school and we’re going with her in the ambulance to . . . Mister , where we going? . . . East Franklin Memorial. Get there as quick as you can, Dad! Please!”
    The whole ride to the hospital, Grandma was squeezing Mom’s hand with more and more strength.
    â€œYou had us so worried,” Mom told her, between a smile and a cry. “You’re not allowed to do that to your family. Right, Noah?”
    My insides had nearly gone numb. But without Dad around I knew I had to step up and act the man. And not be some scared kid.
    â€œI’m the one who studied to get those good grades,” I teased her, raising my voice over the siren. “But it’s Grandma getting all this attention tonight.”
    Grandma’s mouth and nose were covered by an oxygen mask, so she just shifted her eyes between Mom and me.
    I could feel the vibrations from every bump and pot-hole we hit in the street.
    And every time I shut my eyes to pray, all I could see was that scene with Hendricks breathing life back into Grandma.
    The doctors in the emergency room told us that Grandma had suffered a heart attack.
    â€œShe’s very lucky. Whoever administered CPR probably saved her life,” said a black doctor in a white lab coat. “But there’s more to be done here. We need to perform a procedure where we reopen the blood vessels to the heart by inserting a tiny balloon.”
    Mom’s hands were shaking as she signed all the paperwork, and they took Grandma upstairs to get ready. I put both my hands on Mom’s shoulders to hold her steady. But I kept looking behind me, too, praying that my father would show up soon.
    PROTECTIVE CUSTODY RECREATION Yard/ CITY JAIL
    A small cement courtyard surrounded on all sides by the jail is broken up into four fenced-off rectangles where groups of inmates exercise. Each rectangle has a basketball hoop, and there is a walkway between divisions for corrections officers to monitor the recreation activities. Charlie Scat occupies a rectangle with two other inmates—one black and one white. In the rectangle to Scat’s right exercises a lone black inmate.
    Â 
    CHARLIE SCAT: ( Paces the perimeter of his rectangle.) Locked down alone for twenty-three hours a day with one stinking exercise period. Hoo-fuckin’-ray for me.
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    BLACK INMATE #1 ( From the rectangle to Scat’s right. ): Hey, you—Fatty-Vanilla Donut. What you in for?