Ashes and Bones Read Online Free PDF Page B

and tried to massage the pain away, but it was no good; it was always worse the second day. “Were you trying to kill me, Derek?”
    “Ah, that’s something a guy can’t get too much of,” Brian announced as he came into the kitchen. “His wife, rubbing her thighs, moaning another man’s name.”
    I looked up at him. “He was a maniac, I don’t know what he was teaching. It was like Krav on steroids. Do me a favor. Shoot me.”
    “How about a cup of coffee instead?”
    “God, I couldn’t even make it over that far.”
    “He was that good, huh?” Brian poured two cups.
    I looked up, all piteousness. “So good I’m practically broken. So good that if I don’t go back, I’m pretty sure he’ll come looking for me.”
    “Got another class, then?”
    “Yeah. And I bet you haven’t got the guts to go with me, have you?”
    Brian handed me the coffee and cocked his head. “Haven’t we been married long enough for you to learn that reverse psychology doesn’t work with me?”
    “I’m not sure. Doesn’t it work on you?”
    He laughed. “Okay, when is the next class?”
    “This afternoon, after lunch. Late-ish.”
    “Can’t.” He didn’t look disappointed, though, which took points away from him, as far as I was concerned. “I’m helping Dad with a job.”
    “I thought he’s retired.”
    “Semiretired. He’s finding it hard to let go.”
    “Well, what about me?” I pouted. “Don’t you have to help me?”
    “I’ll help you at home.” He kissed the top of my head. “Later.”
    I found myself actually looking forward to the lesson, and I got in a little early, the smell of the floor mats and a faint whiff of perspiration hit me as I opened the door. I was surprised to see Mr. Temple teaching a children’s karate class. As I sat among the waiting parents and wrapped my hands, I watched Temple—who, even on his knees, still towered over the six-year-olds—demonstrate a punch to a tiny girl. The rest of the class, all kneeling in their miniature gi s, watched in a straight line opposite them. Most were attentive; one was picking his nose.
    “Once more, Paula,” Temple boomed. “First, give me a good yell!”
    “Chi-yai!” Paula squeaked.
    “Excellent! Now, do it again, this time with the punch, just like I showed you.”
    The little girl squeaked again, then punched Temple in the chest. While her form looked surprisingly good to me, the punch had about as much power as a kitten’s. Temple rolled back as though he’d been bulldozed.
    He jumped out of the backward roll and began to clap. “Let’s hear it for Miss Benson! Good job!”
    The kids clapped, and Paula bowed to Mr. Temple, who bowed gravely in return. She ran back to the lineup, barely able to contain her excitement. Temple bellowed a command, and the line of kids jumped smartly to their feet and bowed to him. After he bowed again, they ran to their parents, most of whom had been trying to keep straight faces during the lesson.
    He saw me sitting there, a big smile on my face. “A moment while I change, Daniel-san.” He straightened the obi of his gi, took two gigantic steps to the edge of the mats, and bowed out.
    Children’s hour, however, was over. Class wasn’t so bad, though it was much the same as before, that is to say, demanding and scary. Actually, it was a bit worse, because I thought he was telling me to come for another individual lesson, but he asked me to stand in for the group class, first, then took me for an hour on my own.
    There were moments where Mr. Temple thought I was being particularly dense; he called in Mr. Anderson to beat on me, while he shouted helpful comments like “For chrissakes, no! Hit him back! Harder than that ! Are you going to ask him to prom, or are you going to send him home in a garbage bag? Get around his guard! Give me strength!”
    Which is to say, it was all just ghastly.
    But I was proud that I got through what seemed like twice the class and sixty times the personal