Borgel by Daniel Pinkwater

Borgel by Daniel Pinkwater

Author:Daniel Pinkwater [Pinkwater, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-04-13T07:00:00+00:00


(17)

"I am Pak Nfbnm*," the little man said.

"*?"

"Exactly."

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Borgel said. "I am Doctor Wiley Sinclair. This is my great-grand nephew, Colonel Sebastian Moran—and our dog, Shep."

Fafner and I nodded formally to Pak Nfbnm*.

"I am deeply honored," Pak Nfbnm* said.

"No more so than ourselves," Borgel said. "You appear to be a person of distinction. If you have no objection, might I ask the nature of your journey?"

"Certainly," Pak Nfbnm* replied. "For the most part, I travel for pleasure, and to gain knowledge of the various times and places I encounter. I also enjoy sending postcards and souvenirs of my travels to my friends and relations at home. I am a native of Benton Harbor, Michigan, where my family has been engaged in the tapioca industry for many generations."

"Who has not heard of Nfbnm*'s Tapioca?" Borgel said. "And you say you travel for pleasure? How long have you been away from home?"

"This time, something over eighty years," Pak Nfbnm* said. "I'm a habitual traveler in time-space-and-the-other. You might say I'm sort of a professional tourist."

"The same as myself!" Borgel shouted.

"I knew it!" Pak Nfbnm* said. "I could tell at once that I had fallen in with a good crowd! Let's be friends! You may call me Freddie."

"With pleasure!" Borgel said.

"And I will call you Borgel, Melvin, and Fafner. I believe those are the names by which you address one another. We may as well abandon formality, since we're all adventurers together."

"Put 'er there, Freddie," Borgel said, reaching over the seat back and shaking hands with the little time tourist.

"Were you on your way anywhere in particular?" Freddie asked.

"We were considering heading for the Big City," Borgel said. His voice became confidential. "I am the principal stockholder in a fine squashed skunk, and I thought I might as well take it where I can get the highest price."

"Congratulations," Freddie said. "But if I might venture a word of advice, the squashed skunk market is depressed at the moment. You might do well to wait a while, and sell your skunk at the great fair and market which begins in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, if I might make a further suggestion, could you be persuaded to consider taking a little detour?"

"I can always be persuaded to take a little detour," Borgel said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Have you any particular interest in popsicles?"

"I can't say that I have," Borgel said.

"I have," Fafner said.

"Well, I have always been strongly interested in popsicles of all sorts," Freddie said. "I'm not referring only to the well-known trademark 'Popsicle,' manufactured by the Popsicle Company, a firm almost as old and well-respected as Nfbnm*'s Tapioca, but to the generic popsicle, meaning any sort of frozen water-based confection on a stick—an ice-pop, in other words, or a quiescently frozen dessert stick, also Italian Ices, Fudgsicles, and ice cubes with toothpicks in them, made of everything from raspberry soda to chicken soup."

"Fascinating," Fafner said.

"Probably, my personal all-time favorite is the root beer popsicle," Freddie said.



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