Death of a Pharaoh Read Online Free PDF

newly discovered sense of schoolyard justice worried him but he did
remind me that I should only use karate in self-defense. He never asked me
about the fights or made a judgment. I appreciated that he didn’t.
    Without a doubt, I
was his favorite and he devoted a lot of time to me. Everyone else was white
but I didn’t believe he thought I needed to defend myself more because of the
color of my skin. Something else motivated him. He made himself available
whenever I wanted to talk and we frequently travelled to tournaments together.
I thought of him as my best friend. When he grabbed me to demonstrate a hold or
to practice a move, I couldn’t pick up on many of his thoughts. Maybe he had
never done anything bad. I only sensed concern that I should turn into a good
person. I was determined to make him proud of me. On my eighth birthday, he
told me that within a year I’d be able to try for my black belt. If I passed
the test, I’d be the youngest in the history of the dojo.
    “What about
defending others?” I asked him one day.
    “It takes experience
to know when getting involved is a good or a bad thing,” he told me. “You may
believe you know what is right but you shouldn’t use your gifts to judge
others.”
    When he said
gifts, I felt that he referred to more than my karate skills. I never did get
my black belt and most of it had to do with the day I broke Vince Natale’s jaw
in two places and sent him to the ER. I wasn’t sorry and would do it again if I
had to.
    Vince was three
years older and much bigger but the solid sidekick I landed knocked him right
out. It was sweet! I heard the sound of my heel making contact with the bone.
Sure, I knew it was wrong to use karate as an aggressor but Vince was a serial
bully and he deserved having his face rearranged. For two years, he’d
terrorized the younger kids, grabbing their Nintendo’s, sneakers, lunch money
or anything else of value. Lately, he’d graduated to forcing them to steal cash
from their parents at home. If they refused, they’d get a nasty beating.
    Just last week, he
broke Drew Summerland’s arm and got away with it. He had her so terrified; she
told her parents that she fell off her bike on the way home from school. The
day of our fight in the schoolyard, Vince bumped into me during recess and I
knew right away that he was planning to light one of the younger student’s
uniform on fire just to teach him a lesson. He’d bought a can of lighter fluid
at the corner store and would have torched the kid if I hadn’t put him out of
action. That night after a spanking from my father, I made certain to note
everything in my diary before I went to bed so I’d remember why I’d kicked
Vince in the first place. This time there’d be plenty of questions.
    Vince’s parents
threatened to press charges because of the whole karate thing but the Principal
talked them out of it by showing them a video of Vince bullying a second grader
that one of his buddies posted on the internet like an idiot. My parents agreed
to send me to five sessions with a school psychologist in order to avoid a
suspension. The appointments were after school and it meant I’d miss karate. I
wondered if my Dad and David made certain the times coincided as punishment.
    I never knew but
from that day onward, my relationship with David changed. He seemed real
disappointed and because of the police report, he never put my name forward for
the black belt. Without his written recommendation as my Sensei, it was
impossible. I never blamed him but there was a distance between us after that
and although I would continue with the classes, the friendship never recovered.
    Life as a human
YouTube for the wicked, the weird and the downright wretched could screw up any
kid, even without the thing with the streetlights. I first noticed it when I
was nine. My Mom sent me to the corner store for milk one evening in November
after dark. It wasn’t irresponsible of her or anything like that