The Yggyssey by Daniel Pinkwater Read Free Book Online

an actual shaman."
    "Sometimes your choice of friends troubles me," I said. "Speaking of which, what do you know about a kid at your school by the name of Bruce Bunyip?"
    "Bruce Bunyip! He's a barbarian, or maybe a savage. He's a monster. It took us about a year to get him to stop slugging people at random! And his father was the most feared and hated man in Hollywood before he suddenly went nutso and became some kind of hermit. Why do you want to know about him?"
    "I ran into him at an odd hour at the Rolling Doughnut."
    "He keeps odd hours. He just ups and leaves the school whenever he feels like it."
    "I do that," I said.
    "Yes, but you go to a goofy progressive school where you're expected to do as you please. We go to a military academy. We have about a hundred rules for every one at a school like yours. In Bruce's case it is a holdover from when everybody was scared of his father. Lately he has turned into a hipster. He goes down to the Hollywood Ranch Market at two in the morning in hope of running into Marlon Brando, the big actor. Marlon likes to get fruit in the middle of the night. Sometimes he and Bruce sit on the fender of a parked car and play bongo drums."
    "Do you happen to know if he has a girlfriend?"
    "Who? Marlon Brando?"
    "No, Bruce."
    "Are you kidding? He doesn't have any friends, period. Lucifer! Come out of there!" Lucifer had gotten under a bush. Neddie stuck his arm out to the side, then folded it smartly to his chest. "I'm teaching him hand signals," he said. The duck ignored him.
    "You knew that La Brea Woman seems to be missing," I said.
    "I did," Neddie said. "And Valentino hasn't been seen lately, and some other ghosts, too."
    "I wonder what's going on."
    "Do you think they died?" Neddie asked.
    "Can ghosts die?"
    "It's an interesting question. Where would they go?"
    "Maybe we should talk to that guy Billy the Phantom Bellboy is spending so much time with," I said. "The one who works at the ghostology lab at Cal Tech."
    "Oh, I checked into that," Neddie said. "There is no Ghostology Department at Cal Tech."
    "Huh?"
    "I think it's time we talked to Melvin," Neddie said.
    "Your shaman? We can talk to him, but he's just going to tell us not to get excited, and nature will take care of everything—I think we should talk to Seamus's father."
    "Aaron Finn? He's a movie actor."
    "He's a man of action."
    "Let's talk to Melvin first."

CHAPTER 22

Schmoozing with a Shaman
    We found Sergeant Melvin Caleb having a hot fudge sundae with nuts at the Zen Pickle Barrel on Wilcox Avenue. The Zen Pickle Barrel started out as something similar to the mushroomburger place, but the proprietor, a guy named Takuan Soho, added ice cream specialties to the menu, and they got to be more popular than Japanese pickles as served in Buddhist monasteries. They still have the pickles, and things like a butterscotch-pickle sundae, but I have never seen anyone order one.
    "Hello, Iggy, hello, Cadet Wentworthstein," Melvin said. "Allow me to treat you to an ice cream or pickle specialty."
    I ordered a single scoop of strawberry ice cream, and Neddie chose a double chocolate sundae with chocolate ice
cream, marshmallow, and nuts. Neddie is from Chicago and basically has no taste or manners.
    Melvin is the guy who stands at the gate at Neddie's school, the Brown-Sparrow Military Academy. He is also the person in charge of military discipline—everybody looking neat and wearing the uniform correctly, marching, saluting, and all that. Neddie told me that Melvin is practically the only person there with actual military experience, although all the teachers dress up in officer's uniforms—most of them are former movie actors. When Melvin is on duty at the school, he wears his incredibly crisp and sharp Marine Corps uniform—when seen around town, he favors shirts in loud colors, wild sweaters, goofy hats, and sunglasses. Melvin is also a shaman, probably Navajo, but it's hard to pin him down on the