As if we aren't blinded enough, the officer beams his flashlight in our faces. The officer approaches the driver's door and taps the window. Khalil cranks the handle to roll it down. Khalil breaks a rule—he doesn't do what the cop wants.
Khalil groans and takes his wallet out. The officer follows his movements with the flashlight. My heart pounds loudly, but Daddy's instructions echo in my head: Get a good look at the cop's face. If you can remember his badge number, that's even better. With the flashlight following Khalil's hands, I make out the numbers on the badge—one fifteen. He's white, mid-thirties to early forties, has a brown buzz cut and a thin scar over his top lip.
Khalil gets out with his hands up. One-Fifteen yanks him by his arm and pins him against the back door. My Excerpt From The £hr Drive - KK/KK - Lung Froth (CDr) haven't raised me to fear the police, just to be smart around them. They told me it's not smart to move while a cop has his back to you. Khalil's body jerks. Blood splatters from his back. He holds onto the door to keep himself upright. An ear-splitting scream emerges from my gut, explodes in my throat, and uses every inch Excerpt From The £hr Drive - KK/KK - Lung Froth (CDr) me to be heard.
Instinct says don't move, but everything else says check on Khalil. I jump out the Impala and rush around to the other side. Khalil stares at the sky as if he hopes to see God.
His mouth is open like he wants to scream. I scream loud enough for the both of us. I'm not sure how I end up on the ground next to him. My mom once said that if someone gets shot, try to stop the bleeding, but there's so much blood. Too much blood. Khalil doesn't move. He doesn't utter a word. He doesn't even look at me. His body Excerpt From The £hr Drive - KK/KK - Lung Froth (CDr), and he's gone. I hope he sees God. I blink through my tears.
Officer One-Fifteen yells at me, pointing the same gun he killed my friend with. They leave Khalil's body in the street like it's an exhibit.
Police cars and ambulances flash all along Carnation Street. People stand off to the side, trying to see what happened. And then It is ruth to behold, Now in hot, now in cold, Full woful is the household That wants a woman. But what end hast thou made with the herds, Mac? The last word that they said,—when I turned my back, They would look that they had—their sheep all the pack.
I hope they will not be well paid,—when they their sheep lack. But howso the game goes, To me they will suppose, And make a foul noise, And cry out upon me. But thou must do as thou hight. I accord me thertylle. If it were a greater slight, yet could I help till.
I will lie down straight. Come hap me. Hearken aye when they call: they will come anon. Alas, that ever was I born! A fat wether have we lorne. Marry, Godys forbot! Some shrew. Now trust me if you will;—by Saint Thomas of Kent! Either Mac or Gill—was at that assent. Peace, man, be still;—I saw when he went. Good speed. Now as ever might I thee, If I should even here dee,  I would say it were he, That did that same deed.
Go we thither I rede,  —and run on our feet. May I never eat bread,—the truth till I wit. Will ye hear how they hack,  —Our Sire! As far as ye may,— Good, speak ye soft! Go to another stead; I may not well queasse  Each foot that ye tread—goes near make me sneeze  So he! But are ye in this town to-day? Now how fare ye? Ye have run in the mire, and are wet yit: I shall make you a fire, if ye will sit. A horse would I hire; think ye on it. Well quit is my hire, my dream—this is it.
A season. I have bairns if ye knew, Well more than enew,  But we must drink as we brew, And that is but reason.
Yes, our sheep that we gat, Are stolen as they yode. Mac, as I have weal, arise thee, I say! I swelt. Ye come to rob us for the nonce. Ah, my middle! All work we in vain: as well may we go. But hatters. Sir, done! Sir, our lady him save, Is your child a knave? Any lord might him have This child to his son. When he wakens he skips, that joy is to see.
In good time, be his steps, and happy they be! But who was his gossips, tell now to me! Hark now, a lee! Farewell all three: all glad were ye gone. Fast again will I fling, Excerpt From The £hr Drive - KK/KK - Lung Froth (CDr), Abide ye me there.
Mac, take it to no grief, if I come to thy barn. Nay, thou dost me great reprieve, and foul hast thou farne. The child will it not grieve, that little day starn. Give me leave him to kiss, and lift up the clout. What the devil is this? He has a long snout. Ill spun weft, I wis, aye cometh foul out; Aye so; He is like to our sheep.
Let burn this bawd and bind her fast. A false skawd  hangs at the last; So shall thou. Will ye see how they swaddle His four feet in the middle?
Peace bid I: what! What devil shall he halt? Let be all that. Now God give him care! I sagh. To make a man laugh. I tell you, sirs, hark:—his nose was broken. Since then, told me a clerk,—that he was forespoken. This is a false work. He was taken by an elf;  I saw it myself.
When the clock struck twelve, Was he mis-shapen. Sirs, do my red For this trespass, We will neither ban nor flyte  Fight, nor chyte,  But seize him tight, And cast him in canvas.
Lord, how I am sore, in point for to tryst: In faith I may no more, therefore will I rest. As a sheep of seven score, he weighed in my fist. For to sleep anywhere, methink that I list. Whereto should ye tene?
God is made your friend: now at this morn, He behests; To Bedlem go see, There lies that free  In a crib full poorly, Betwixt two beasts. That betokens yonder starn  Let us seek him there. Say, what was his song? Heard ye not how he cracked it?
Three breves to a long. Yea, marry, he hacked . Was no crochet wrong, nor no thing that lacked it. To Bedlem he bade—that we should gang: I am full feared—that we tarry too lang. Be merry and not sad: of mirth is our sang, Everlasting glad, our road may we fang,  Without noise. Hie we thither quickly; If we be wet and weary, To that child and that lady We have it not to slose.
We find by the prophecy—let be your din— Of David and Esai, and more than I min;  They prophesied by clergy, that on a virgin Should he light and ly, to pardon our sin And slake it, Our kind from woe; For Esai said so, Cite virgo Concipiet a child that is naked.
Full glad may we be,—and abide that day That lovely to see,—that all mights may. Lord, well for me,—for once and for aye, Might I kneel on my knee—some word for to say To that child. But the angel said In a crib was he laid; He was poorly arrayed, Both meaner and mild. Patriarchs that have been,—and prophets beforn, They desired to have seen—this child that is born.
They are gone full clean,—that have they lorn. To so poor as we are, that he would appear, First find, and declare by his messenger. Hail, comely and clean; hail, young child! Hail, maker, as I mean, of a maiden so mild! Lo, he merry is! Lo, he laughs, my sweeting, A welcome meeting! I have given my greeting Have a bob of cherries? Hail, sovereign saviour, for thou hast us sought! Hail full of favour, that made all of nought! I kneel and I cower. A bird have I brought To my bairn!
Hail, little tiny mop,  Of our creed thou are crop! I would drink in thy cup, Little day-starn. Hail, darling dear, full of godheed! The boy, who led the way, checking the eagerness of his muscles to the slow progress of the elder, likewise wore a single garment—a ragged-edged piece of bear-skin, with a hole in the middle through which he had thrust his head. Tucked coquettishly over one ear was the freshly severed tail of a pig.
In one hand he carried a medium-sized bow and an arrow. On his back was a quiverful of arrows. From a sheath 25 hanging about his neck on a thong, projected the battered handle of a hunting knife. He was as brown as a berry, and walked softly, with almost a catlike tread. In marked contrast with his sunburned skin were his eyes—blue, deep blue, but keen and sharp as a pair of gimlets. They seemed 30 to bore into aft about him in Excerpt From The £hr Drive - KK/KK - Lung Froth (CDr) way that was habitual.
As he went along he smelled things, as well, his distended, quivering nostrils carrying to his brain an endless series of messages from the outside world. Also, his hearing was acute, and had been so trained that it operated 35 automatically.
Without conscious effort, he heard all the slight sounds in the apparent quiet—heard, and differentiated, and classified these sounds—whether they were of the wind rustling the leaves, of the humming of bees and gnats, of the distant rumble of the sea that drifted 40 to him only in lulls, or of the gopher, just under his foot, shoving a pouchful of earth into the entrance of his hole.
Suddenly he became alertly tense. Sound, sight, and odor had given him a simultaneous warning.
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