The Long Way Home Read Online Free PDF

tradition.”
    Now there were so many things about this statement that I thought were false, they kind of got jammed up in my brain as they tried to get to my mouth. For one thing, there are a lot of countries in the world that hate other people and attack other countries without reason, or that try to force even their own citizens to believe things whether they want to or not. America never does that. But before I could even get to that point, I blurted out:
    “Wait a minute. You’re talking about the Declaration of Independence, right? The only truths it holds to be ‘self-evident’ are that all men are created equal. And that their Creator gave them the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
    “Ah, I knew we’d hear from Charlie on this one,” said Mr. Sherman, looking around at the rest of the class. “Charlie is a True Believer. I can always count on him to follow blindly along with the crowd. The All-American Zombie.” He put his hands out in front of him like a zombie and let his mouth hang open. “Night of the Living Charlie.”
    This was another thing that always annoyed me about Mr. Sherman. When you argued with him, he didn’t exactly use facts and logic. He just tried to make fun of you and change the subject and tangle you up with words so you looked bad or the class laughed at you and you got flustered and couldn’t make your point. And another thing that annoyed me was that a lot of times it worked.
    I glanced around at the rest of the students. They were all laughing at Mr. Sherman’s zombie routine. Even Rick Donnelly, one of my best friends, was laughing over at his desk near the window. I knew Rick agreed with me about Mr. Sherman. He thought this was a great country and even wanted to go into politics when he grew up. But he was the kind of guy who never argued with teachers, who was always trying to please them and say what they wanted to hear so he would get good grades. Maybe that’s how you get to be a politician.
    “So what part of the Declaration don’t you agree with?” I asked Mr. Sherman.
    Sherman stopped waving his arms around. He smiled. “Ah, my zombielike friend, that’s exactly the wrong question. The question is: What part of it can you prove to be true? Prove that we’re created equal. We don’t look equal to me.”
    “That’s not what it means. It means that we’re created with equal rights.”
    “Prove it, Charlie. You can’t. It’s just something Americans have come to believe, that’s all. Other people believe other things. You can’t even prove that we were created, that we have a Creator in the first place. It’s just something you were told and so you believe it. Go on, Zombie Guy—prove it.”
    I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn’t think what to say. I didn’t know exactly how you would prove something like that. Sherman made the class laugh at me again by opening his mouth and making stuttering sounds to imitate my confusion: “Uh, uh, uh!”
    Then the bell rang. That was the end of class.
    “All right, that’s it,” said Sherman, “unless you guys want to stay behind and listen to Charlie sing the national anthem.”
    That made everyone laugh again. And they were still laughing as they filed out of the room.
    So I guess Sherman won that argument or at least got the last laugh. And yeah, it bothered me. I felt bad that the kids laughed, and I felt especially bad that I hadn’t been able to come up with a good argument for what I was trying to say. It made me angry—because I knew I was right and he was wrong.
    I guess I was still a little angry when I went to the dojo that afternoon for my karate lesson.
    Here’s what happened. There was this other kid, Peter Williams. He was taking a lesson that day too. Sensei Mike decided to have us do some kumite . Kumite is sparring without protective gear, without soft gloves and helmets and shin pads and everything. In kumite, you just dress in your gi —your karate