Remo folded his arms stubbornly. "Yeah? Well, I still don't buy any of it. Not reincarnation, Bunji Lamas, or Shiva or Gonpo or any of it."
"That is your privilege," snapped Chiun. "It was not I who pressed the matter but you. And now you castigate me for explaining it to you."
Remo was silent for a long time. In the lingering dusk, his hard face gradually softened. Chiun's did, as well. They relaxed.
"Maybe some day I'll climb Mt. Kailas and see if anything's really up there," Remo said thoughtfully. "Just to settle the question."
"Perhaps you will, my son," said Chiun slowly. "But before you do, consider this question-if Shiva truly dwells there, who will come down off Mt. Kailas wearing your flesh and bones?"
Remo had no answer to that. Instead, he said, "Well, one thing's for sure. Squirrelly Chicane wasn't the reincarnation of the Bunji Lama. She was just a starry-eyed dip with delusions of grandeur."
"You are very sure of yourself for one who professes belief in nothing other than his own stubbornness," said Chiun.
"If Squirrelly Chicane does come back," Remo said, "let her find us this time."
"Do not call down such unpleasant karma on our heads," warned Chiun. "One Squirrelly Chicane in one lifetime is too much."
And in the dying light of day, they both smiled.
EPILOGUE
On the very first day of the third month of the Tibetan Year of the Earth Dog, Dra Drang lay on a bed of clean straw in a cow byre in the town called Burang, grunting and grimacing in the joyous labor of giving birth to her first child.
At last, after much effort, the baby came, sliding out in a slippery flood of blood and amniotic fluids.
The midwife took up the child, spanked a short bleat of complaint from the tiny lungs and cut the umbilical cord with her teeth.
Enveloped in the yak wool wrap, the child, strangely serene of face and disposition, was handed over. Dra Drang took up the peaceful bundle to her gently heaving chest.
About to unwrap the cloth to see if she had just borne a boy or a girl, Dra Drang was astonished to see that there was hair on the tiny, throbbing head. And the hair was the red of rust.
She wondered what such a presentiment could signify.
NEVER. Never play opposite children or dogs. Thanks to that little snot, I have the biggest bomb since Heaven's Gate against my name, and I have to go around all over again. Just when I had the perfect incarnation and my third-reel climax, too!
The bitter thoughts echoed in the darkness of her mind where there was no thought, no fear, no pain. Only recriminations.
Suddenly she felt herself moving. Like a helpless cork, she was being violently expelled from the place of floating darkness. A sharp blow struck her bottom, and she breathed again. The air smelled like a stable.
Squirrelly Chicane opened her eyes and took note of her surroundings. She saw Tibetan faces. Good. This time she wouldn't have to wait sixty years to be found. This time she'd do it right. This time she would be the Bunji Lama first and then launch her glorious film career. It would be the comeback of all time.
She looked up into the broad face of her new mother. Not so good-pocked skin and teeth so rotted they couldn't be capped. Well, she wouldn't win any beauty contests but she had to be an improvement over the last one. And by the time they went to camera, a good Tibetan actress might happen along. But not too good. No one could be allowed to outshine Squirrelly Chicane, six minutes old and already sexellent.
The body warmth of her new mother was making Squirrelly sleepy, so sleepy, and the memories of her last body were already starting to slip away. But they'd come back, she knew. When the Wheel of Time clicked into the right karmic notch.
Just before the first slumber of her new life overtook her, Squirrelly felt her blanket being unwrapped. Curious, she looked down at herself and saw a tiny pink penis.
Yuck. I'm a boy again. My public isn't going to like it if I turn up in drag.
Still, there was one consolation. She had been born a Taurus again. And everyone knew they had the best karma.