All In

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Book: All In Read Online Free PDF
Author: Jerry Yang
hay filled the air as we rushed around, popping eggs as fast as we could. By the time we were done, my buddies and I were covered from head to toe.
    Since we left yolk-covered footsteps down the coop ladder and all the way back to our hideout, my father didn’t have tocall in the village CSI team to figure out what had happened.
    As I recall, my father had to pay the chicken owners for their lost eggs, and I could hardly sit for a week.
    The great chicken caper was still fresh in the villagers’ minds a couple of months later when my great-uncle returned home from church and discovered his prize pheasant dead in its cage.
    Even though this man was my grandfather’s brother and my great-uncle, we all called him Grandpa as a sign of respect because, though he was probably barely over fifty years old, he was one of the oldest men in our village.
    Now, one dead bird may not seem like much, but this was a serious offense in my village, where we relied on hunting for food. Grandpa specialized in hunting game birds and used this pheasant as a live decoy. To him, this wasn’t just any bird. He treated it better than he did his own children. Because this pheasant was such a valuable possession, he hung its cage in a place of honor on his porch.
    According to Grandpa, this bird had been alive and well when he’d left for church that morning. When he returned, he found it lying in a heap in such a way that indicated it had not died of natural causes.
    As soon as Grandpa discovered his dead bird, he grabbed the cage and went straight to my father.
    As the chief elder of the village, my father was the one everyone brought their problems to. That’s all I thought was going on when I saw Grandpa, his wife, and their two adult sons storming up the path to our house.
    Every time a villager came to my father with a problem, I always tried to position myself near him to listen in. I admired my father’s wisdom and wanted to learn from him, which is why I didn’t run away when Grandpa came to see us. Little did I know that my curiosity would get me into trouble once again.
    Grandpa and his sons were visibly angry but kept themselves under control.
    â€œAll we want to know is who killed our bird,” Grandpa said. “It had to be someone who was not at church today, because, clearly, that’s when they killed it.” And then he said something that made my heart jump a beat. “I noticed,” he said as he turned toward me, “that Xao and his friends were not at church today.”
    As soon as Grandpa said this, my father turned to me and looked me in the eyes. “Xao, did you miss church today?”
    Unfortunately for me, I had made the mistake of choosing this particular Sunday to skip church and spend the day looking for sweet adventure in the jungle.
    The closest thing we had to candy was a certain fruit that grew wild not far from our village. According to my calculations, it was about time for it to be ripe. I’d come up with a brilliant plan for my gang to skip church and spend the day gorging on fruit.
    As always, my buddies had gone for it. As it turned out, the fruit wasn’t ripe, so we went to the river and spent the day swimming and playing with marbles we carved out of rocks.
    Since church was pretty much an all-day affair, we managed to get home before it let out. No one noticed we’d been missing.
    Or so I thought.
    â€œXao, I asked you a question. Were you in church today?”
    I swallowed hard. “No, sir. I was not.” I knew what was coming.
    â€œXao,” my father said again with that tone that melted my spine, “did you kill Grandpa’s bird?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œDid you witness one of your friends killing the bird?”
    His look filled me with dread. “No, sir.”
    â€œDo you know anything about the death of Grandpa’s bird?” His tone was growing increasingly stern.
    â€œNo, sir. My friends and I spent
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