"It is well to remember that the first prediction of the forty-sixth Bunji Lama was that his next body would possess hair the hue of fire."
"That's me," said Squirrelly. "Oh, my God! Was I the Bunji Lamb in a previous life?"
"The first test has been passed. Now it is time to see if this woman recognizes any relics of her former life."
"Show me a relic! Show me a relic!" Squirrelly said excitedly.
At that moment Remo returned with the trunk and before Squirrelly's mesmerized gaze, it was opened to reveal a dead, musty smell and a headless seated mummy. Its head sat in its lap as if that were the natural place for it.
"What's that?" she asked,
"The old Bunji Lama," said Lobsang, prying a bronze ceremonial object from the dead mummy's clenched brown fingers. He brought it over to dangle it before Squirrelly's wide eyes.
"Do you recognize this dorje?"
"Dorje?"
"Ceremonial thunderbolt," said Lobsang. "It is the symbol of the Bunji Lama's temporal power."
Squirrelly's brow knit in perplexity. "No. Darn it, it doesn't ring a bell."
"She has passed the second test!" Chiun proclaimed.
"I have?"
"It was predicted that the forty-seventh Bunji Lama would recognize none of the trappings of his former body."
"My God. It's true. I don't recognize it at all." And looking at the lichen-eaten face of the old Bunji Lama, she added, "As a matter of fact, I don't recognize me at all."
"Bulldooky," said Remo. "Of course she doesn't recognize it. She never saw it before in her life. What kinda of cockamamy test is that?"
"Silence, white eyes!" said Lobsang.
"There are other tests," said the Master of Sinanju. "Reveal to us your left shoulder."
Squirrelly peeled her pink pajama top off her shoulder, unbuttoning the top buttons so Remo could get a peek at her cleavage. He pretended to look out the window with a bored expression. Squirrelly figured he was sneaking a peek in the reflection of the windowpane. Men were so obvious.
"Behold the mark! It is the sign that has appeared on the shoulder of the Bunji Lama down through the ages. "
Squirrelly started. The old Oriental was pointing with a perfectly manicured fingernail at her bare shoulder. She pulled it around, saying, "Mark! What mark?"
And there it was, a dimplelike pit on her shoulder.
"My God! Look at it. It's some kind of birthmark I never noticed before."
"That's your vaccination mark, you dip," said Remo.
"What is this chiling word-'vaccination?'" Lobsang demanded.
"It is a rare word meaning the mark of the Bunji Lama-for even in this backward land the fame of the Bunji Lama has spread!" explained the old man.
The Tibetan was hovering close now, squinting at the mark. His long face was unhappy.
"It is the right mark, isn't it?" Squirrelly asked. "Oh, tell me it is. I've been between past lives for so long I've had a serious case of the blahs."
"It is as the texts describe." said Lobsang. "But you are a female with white eyes. No white eyes has ever been a tulku. "
"What's a tulku?"
"An incarnation."
"Call me a white-eyed tulku. Except they're blue, you know."
"There is another test, one not prophesied by the last Bunji Lama, but known to all Worshipful Nameless Ones in the Dark Who See the Light That is Coming," Lobsang said slowly.
"What's that?"
"I must see your navel."
"Sure." And Squirrelly obligingly lifted her pajama top high enough so the lower curve of her breasts was revealed. Remo continued to pretend to be looking out the window.
"It is true!" Lobsang gasped. "Her navel protrudes, just as did all previous Bunji Lamas!"
"You mean I'm the Bunji Lamb because I'm an outie-"
Chiun lifted a quieting hand. "There remains one final test."
"What is it? What is it? I'll take it, whatever it is. I'm great with tests. Crossword puzzles. Scrabble. You name it."
"There remains the joss," intoned Chiun.
"Yes, the joss," said Kula. "Have you a Buddhist shrine in this place, O Light That Might Be?"
"No."
"No."
"Then where do you worship your ancestors?"
"Usually I just call home and talk to my folks."
"If the joss is not found, she is disqualified," Lobsang said sternly.
"But I don't wanna be disqualified," moaned Squirrelly. "I wanna be the Bunji Lamb. I deserve to be the Bunji Lamb. I've been just about everything else. Except the Queen of Sheba. My friend Poopi has dibs on her."
"Does this mean we can go home now?" asked Remo.
"Not until this entire house is searched and the joss found or not found," said Chiun firmly.
"Somebody tell me what a joss is and I'll help you look," Squirrelly said helpfully.
"It is an icon unique in all the world, which with his dying breath the last Bunji Lama described in detail," said Chiun, casting his eyes around the room but avoiding the mantel over the crackling fire.
So it was that Remo Williams, trying to look everywhere but directly at Squirrelly Chicane, spotted the sword-wielding golden statuette without a face.
He blinked. He started to open his mouth, caught himself and slipped up to the fireplace to stand directly in front of the statue, blocking it from view.
"Why don't you guys check the other rooms?" he said casually. "I got this one covered."
Chapter 9
The minute the others left the living room of Squirrelly Chicane's Malibu beach house, Remo turned, grabbed a goldplated statuette off the mantelpiece and tried to find a place to stash it.
The redwood furniture was spare and modern. Not a single cushion to hide anything under. Under the couch looked inviting, but knowing Chiun, Remo figured that would be the first place he'd look.
That left the fireplace. Remo hated to do it-the statue wasn't his property-but this might be an emergency. Whatever Chiun was up to, trouble was sure to follow.
Remo tossed the statue into the fireplace so it landed behind the burning log.
Except the log wasn't really a log, but some kind of papier-mache pseudolog. The minute the statue hit it, the thing cracked in half with a mushy sound and a shower of sparks.
The statue lay in the flames and whirling bits of burning paper exposed for anyone to see.
"Damn," said Remo.
He had no choice. He had to hide the damned thing. Getting down on one knee, Remo reached into the flames. His hand went in and out so fast it was a pink blur, driving a wall of air before it and pushing aside the hungry flames. The hairs on the back of his hand weren't so much as singed when he pulled it out again.
The statue was hot, though. Holding it lightly so the hot metal wouldn't sear his fingertips, Remo rushed it over to the Bunji Lama's trunk and stuffed it behind the mummy's squatting form. Then he closed the trunk.
When the Master of Sinanju returned a few minutes later, Remo tried to look innocent.
Chiun, seeing his expression, said, "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing. Just turning the log." Remo pointed at the shattered log and kept his face relaxed.
Then Kula stormed in saying, "I have found it! I have found it! The defaced joss!"
And he held up the golden statue that was familiar to anyone who ever watched an Academy Award ceremony.
"It is the joss that was foretold!" Chiun cried. "Exactly as foretold."
"It is?" said Squirrelly.
"This is your joss?" demanded Lobsang.
"Yes, of course it's mine."
"I found it holding open the door to the well room," said Kula. "Like a worthless object."
"Yeah, I use that one for a doorstop. What's a girl to do when she has so many josses?"
"It does not look like a Buddha," Lobsang said. "What is this joss called?"
"Oscar."
"Os-car? How came you by it?"
"That thing? Oh, I've only had it for a million years.