"I understand that we're supposed to go to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains," Remo said stubbornly. The car produced a series of sputtering, clanking sounds. "That is, if this junk heap will take us there."
With that, there was a scraping sound and then a clunk as the tail pipe clattered to the ground.
"You see?" Chiun grinned in malicious satisfaction.
"See what? I see we lost the freaking tail pipe." As soon as he spoke, two of the hubcaps sprang off the wheels. Remo watched in the rear-view mirror as they spun in lazy circles on the road far behind them.
"See that," Chiun said triumphantly. "This automobile is a sham."
"I can think of other things to call it," Remo said between clenched teeth.
"Emperor Smith never intended for us to drive it. It was part of the pretense. We should have waited in the motel room. The Emperor clearly wished to surprise me."
"Well, he doesn't surprise me. He probably picked up this rattletrap for twenty bucks somewhere, the cheap…"
The steering wheel came off in his hands. Seething, Remo tossed it into the back seat. He edged his fingertips into the steering mechanism to maneuver the car as if he were tuning a radio.
Chiun cackled mercilessly. "You see? You should have listened to me before. Now we must return to the motel. Perhaps Miss Madrigal is already there."
"Forget it. We're not turning back. All we need is another car."
The engine sputtered. Remo pumped the gas pedal. The car moved forward erratically.
"I can't believe it," Remo said. "The gas gauge is broken, too. I think we're out of gas."
Chiun folded his arms over his chest. "Perhaps you should tell me again, O brilliant one, how necessary this mission is."
"Can the sarcasm. We're in trouble. Hey, what's that up ahead?" He squinted. In the distance was a building with two rectangular objects in front of it. "I'll be damned," Remo said, visibly relieved. "A gas station. I guess we're in luck after all."
"What great good fortune," Chiun muttered.
A dark-haired young man leaped up when Remo pulled into Harry's Payless.
"Hey, nice car you got," he said, reaching in and fingering the upholstery.
Remo slapped his hands away in annoyance. "Do you mind? Just fill it up."
"Okay," the young man said affably. "Just taking a look, that's all. Say, you got a smoke?"
"No," Remo said. "Is there a used-car lot around here?"
"Nothing close. You know you got no steering wheel?"
"That's a real eagle eye you have," Remo said.
"I can fix it. Good as new. Only take a sec."
Remo looked at the young man. He seemed friendly enough. "Are you a mechanic?"
"I'm an Indian," the young man said proudly. "Sam Wolfshy. Got a stick of gum?"
"No," Remo said, exasperated.
"How about a couple of rubber bands?"
"What for?"
Wolfshy shrugged. "They're useful. Can't tell when you'll need one."
"I don't have anything except money," Remo said.
"Oh." The Indian looked down, disinterested.
"I'd like to buy a map."
"Inside," Wolfshy said. "Harry'll help you."
"I'll go with you," Chiun said. "These gasoline fumes are assaulting my nostrils." He got out of the car. "I will probably be dead of poison fumes before dawn," the Oriental droned. "Dead, without ever having met Mona Madrigal. The Emperor's gracious present will have gone to waste. Of course, returning to our motel might save my life. But don't consider me, Remo. What is the life of an old man?"
"That's big of you, Chiun," Remo said, striding into the station.
Behind the counter sat a skinny old man with arms like toasted bread sticks, reading a newspaper. He wore a bright flowered shirt and thick glasses that had slid down to the base of his nose.
"Ice machine's broken," he said, glancing up at Remo. "Won't be fixed before tomorrow." He gave his paper a shake and went back to reading it.
"I'm not here for ice. I need a map."
"No maps. Sam borrowed them all."
"What's he want them for?"
"Who knows? He's a Kanton."
Remo shook his head. "I think I missed something there."
"Forget it. Anything else?"
"I need another car."
"Can't help you there," Harry said, turning a page of the newspaper. "Closest car dealer's back in Santa Fe."
"You see?" Chiun hissed. "It's fate."
"How far is it to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains?"
Harry squinted toward the fluorescent ceiling lights. "Can't say. Never been there. Sam might know. He's a Kanton."
"You've said that before. What the hell's a Kanton?"
"Indian, son. They come from around the Sangre de Cristo." Suddenly the old man grinned. He slapped his newspaper down so hard that his glasses slid off his nose. "You know what you need?"
"Yes," Remo said. "A map."
"Better'n that. You need a guide. A real wood-tracking, wind-smelling Indian guide. And I got just the man for you."
"Sam?" Remo asked without enthusiasm.
"None other." Harry slapped his knee and chuckled.
'Uh, no thanks," Remo said. "I think you need him more here."
"Hell, no. What I mean is," he added quickly, "it's the slow season. I can spare him for a few days. Come on, mister. What do you say?" There was pleading in his eyes.
Remo looked at him suspiciously. "I think I'll pass on Sam."
The old man exhaled noisily. "Shit," he said. "I didn't think it would work. Fact is, he's my nephew. My sister married a Kanton, and when she passed on, I got saddled with Sam. That was twenty-six years ago. Haven't been able to get rid of him since."
"What's wrong with him?"
"He's a damned Kanton, that's what's wrong," Harry screeched. "They're borrowers. They can't help it. It's in their blood. But it's driving me crazy. Got a shirt? Got a vacuum cleaner bag? Sheesh. Ever see the Kanton Indian Museum? It's got nothing but I.O.U.'s in it, some going back to the sixteen hundreds."
"You mean Sam's a thief?"
"Hell, no," Harry said, waving his hand. "Couldn't care less about money. Don't own anything, don't want to. But he'll borrow the teeth out of your head."
"Well, we don't have anything to borrow," Remo said, considering. "And we could use a guide, I suppose…."
"I'll tell you what," Harry interjected. "You take Sam off my hands, and the gas you got's on the house."
"Gee, I don't know—"
"We accept," Chiun said.
"We-ha!" Harry whooped, scurrying from behind the counter. "I'll tell Sam to get ready."
When the old man had run out, Remo turned to Chiun. "What'd you say that for? We don't even know this guy."
Chiun folded his hands into his sleeves. "It is simple. Now we have free gas. With it, we can return to Santa Fe. We will offer up this Sam person to the Emperor, saying that he forced us to leave our motel room temporarily. That way, Emperor Smith will not be offended that we were not present to receive a visit from Mona Madrigal."
Remo knocked the heel of his hand against his temple. "Are you kidding? That's the most twisted argument I've ever heard."
"With emperors, subtlety is everything," Chiun assured him.
A shriek that sounded like a strangled vulture sent them running outside.
It was Sam Wolfshy. He was lying on the ground, legs sprawled, arms flailing, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as Harry squeezed his neck with both scrawny hands.
"What's going on here?" Remo asked, pulling the old man off the big Indian. "I thought you liked him."
"Damned worthless Kanton!" Harry screeched. "I lay my balls on the line to give you a chance with these guys, and look what you do to their car!"
"Car?" Remo asked. He looked around for the Chevy. It was parked beside a jeep.
"I fixed the steering wheel, didn't 1?" Sam protested.
Remo looked inside the car with amazement. Indeed, the steering wheel was back in place. But both seats, as well as the dashboard, radio, cigarette lighter, windshield wipers, door handles, rear-view mirror, and all four tires were gone. They had all been neatly installed in the jeep next to it.