"Dad, what are you doing here?"
Keith Jamison turned, somewhat surprised to hear his son's voice behind him. "I received a call from your teacher last night; he said he'd like to meet with me about some behavioral problems." Mr. Jamison raised his eyebrows as he enunciated the last two words. "While I'm here, I guess I'll go ahead and take you home. Come on, son."
Todd saw his father glance back toward the classroom, and wondered why he looked so nervous.
As the father-son pair rounded the corner that would lead to the front parking lot, Punky and Cherie exited the restroom.
"Don't pay that creep any attention. Todd's just a jerk anyways," Punky was saying. "Let's go talk to Mike. He'll tell you the same thing."
The pair of friends entered the classroom, but not seeing their teacher right away, they went further in.
Cherie walked to the other side of Mike's desk and cried out, "Punky! Over here!"
Cherie and Punky dropped to their knees beside a barely conscious Mike Fulton. Both children started to weep at the sight of their friend.
Attempting to control her tears, Punky inquired, "Mike, what happened? Are you all right?"
Mike groaned softly. "Girls," he spoke, hardly above a whisper, "get help."
Cherie wiped her eyes and stood. "Punky, stay with him. I'll go to the front office."
"Cherie, call Henry, too." Punky watched her friend run out the room, and the tears continued. "Mike, I'm right here, and I won't leave you. I'm going to stay right beside you, because that's what friends are for." Punky gave Mike a weak smile as she reached for his hand. In that moment, looking at her hand in Mike's, she didn't see the colors black and white; she saw the rainbow of their friendship. But she also saw a world of pain.
Punky, Cherie, Henry, and Mrs. Johnson sat in the waiting area outside Mike's room at Cook County Hospital. The girls sat side by side, with their respective grown-ups on either side. Mrs. Johnson and Henry were looking through magazines, while the children talked quietly, each holding a tissue.
"It's like Henry told me last night. Some people think it's bad for blacks and whites to be friends. I'll bet whoever hurt Mike felt like that."
"Todd does."
Punky shook her head. "True, but he's too small to do any real damage. Besides, he wouldn't have had enough time to do anything. We weren't in the bathroom very long."
"I don't know anybody else that feels thay way, Punky. Everyone I know really likes Mike."
"Same here. Hey, wait a minute. Right after I walked out of the classroom to join you at our lockers, I saw a man go in. I wonder if he did it."
Cherie didn't have a chance to respond. A doctor exited Mike's room, shutting the door behind him, and approached the group of friends.
"Good afternoon, folks. My name is Dr. Elliott; I'm Mr. Fulton's attending physician."
Punky innocently asked, "Well, yeah, but where's the doctor that's going to be taking care of him?"
Dr. Elliott smiled as Henry patted Punky on the shoulder and hushed her. "Your friend will be just fine. Some nasty bruises are beginning to surface and his left wrist is sprained, so I am going to keep him at least overnight, because I want to make sure no fluid on the lungs somehow appears, but I am expecting that he'll be able to go home within the next 36 to 48 hours."
Mrs. Johnson spoke up. "Dr. Elliott, the girls are real anxious to get in there and check on their teacher. How soon will they be able to see him?"
"I'm sorry, but not today. I have him resting right now, and I don't want him disturbed for the evening. Come back tomorrow, and I'll let you see him then."
Henry entered his foster daughter's bedroom that evening to say good night, and he found her facing the opposite wall, crying.
"Punky, what's the matter?"
She turned to look at him, not even trying to hide her tears. "Henry, Mike is going to be all right, isn't he?"
The old man sat on the stool by Punky's flower-cart bed. "You heard Dr. Elliott this afternoon; of course Mike will be okay."
"I know what the doctor said. I just wanted to hear it from you. I can't help but worry about him. He's not just my teacher, Henry; he's one of my best friends."
Punky wrapped her arms around Henry's neck, and he held her for a little while, knowing the child needed to learn what kind of damage prejudice could produce, but at the same time wishing she didn't have to learn it in such a harsh way.