John Frum The Reluctant Messiah

Ready Or Not

"Whoa!" Ethan exclaimed from behind them. They both turned.

"Oh, Em, meet Ethan."

"Hey." Em continued, "That's how you can tell. The extra finger. I mean, there's a lot of big people in the world- not everyone's a Neph- but if they've got this?"

"How tall was this guy?" asked John.

"Guys." Em replied. "There's three of them and none of them are under twelve feet. Twelve feet!"

"You think these guys are the three Royal Chieftains?"

"Wow! I'm impressed. Yes, as a matter of fact I do," she said. "I'm in the minority on this but I think the Native Americans were trying to hide these guys, not exalt them. Ya' know how many identical mounds are out there? Remember in the old Westerns the Indians would always put up one hand," she put up a hand to demonstrate, "and say 'How!? Well, that wasn't some Hollywood invention. They were counting fingers- and showing five fingers back so that everybody knew what they were dealing with- good or evil. And from the way we found these guys? They definitely thought they were evil."

One of the workers stuck his head in the tent.

"Hey Em! The guys from the Smithsonian are here."

"They're way too early!" she shot back. "I'm not done cataloging... they're not supposed to be here until late tomorrow!"

The worker shrugged and Em blew right by John and Ethan on her way to confront the driver. John and Ethan quickly followed behind her.

"Hey! Hey!" Em yelled trying to get the attention of the driver.

"Isn't she great? - she's awesome!" a mesmerized Ethan declared.

"Never. Mind! Reel it in there, Kemosabe......but yeah," John smiled, "she is."

"Hey! You're way too early. I haven't even catalogued - I'm supposed to accompany them, I don't have any of my stuff..." Em was interrupted by the truck driver.

"Sweetheart, I got my paperwork. I have a boss, you have a boss- just doing what I'm told, and I was told to load these three big crates pronto. Sign here," he said, handing her a pen.

Em ignored the pen and paperwork while the driver headed back towards the truck.

"Let me at least check the packing." As she struggled trying to lift the heavy lid, John and Ethan stepped forward to lend a hand.

"There's something wrong here," Em said quietly as she poked and prodded at the crate's contents. John agreed.

"I'll say. Did you happen to notice his shoes?"

"Not to mention how many delivery drivers do you know that wear a Patek Phillipe watch?" Ethan noted. Em was doing her best not to panic.

"I can pretty much guarantee that whatever the professor wanted you to, see?... is in that crate! What do we do?"

"We track 'em, that's what we do." John stated.

"Just how do we do that?"

"Ethan's gonna drop his burner flip-phone in the box and then do his super sleuth thing."

"I am?" a surprised Ethan said.

John shook his head and whispered in Em's ear.

"Drug dealers pffft. Have to admit- he fits the profile." He winked and turned back to Ethan. "You've got your app runnin' right?"

Yeah."

"Make sure you turn the ringer off. You know, in case ET here decides to phone home..."

Ethan hesitated and was not happy. At all.

"Dude," Ethan said through his teeth, "you know this isn't any old flip phone, it's-"

"Come on! We'll get your transponder back there Scotty as soon as we get out of here."

John turned away from Em and shot a look towards Ethan and whispered "Look, your gonna have to field test your app at some point... might as well be today, right?"

Ethan reluctantly silenced the phone and handed it to John. John in turn slipped it deep into the folds of the crate's packing materials. John turned to Ethan and said,

 "Here are my keys. Gas up the car and I'll go with Em to get her stuff. Meet back here in forty-five. They're probably not gonna need more than an hour or so to finish crating these bad boys up.

Em threw her backpack towards the spot where a back seat should have been of her open-air Jeep and banged through the gears like an Indy pro. As she needled her way through the dusty two-lane road, she continued shaking her head. John, smart enough to remain silent, shot glances her way, watching her work through her frustration at a hair raising 65 MPH. Looking straight ahead she said to herself,

"Breathe. It'll work out, it'll work out." With that she turned to John and half smiled as the wind sufficiently buffeted them.

"So... raised by your uncle too huh? Your parents- they still around? I mean- what's the story?"

"Eh... a bit like yours, I guess. Foggy details, bits and pieces but I've got to admit I spend a lot more time than I should lately trying to figure it all out." John confessed.

"Ah - preachin' to the choir on that one. I've made a career out of trying to figure it all out."

"For what it's worth, I'd like to help," John said. Em smiled.

"At least you knew who your parents were - are," John said. "For me it's just bits and pieces that I've been able to pry out of people. After all these years you'd think... I dunno. Why all the mystery, ya' know?"

"No one will ever understand why we need answers," Em said. "I guess it's a bit like riding Harley's. Ya' know if you have to ask you wouldn't understand?"

"Yeah, I'm not even sure why it's so important at this point. Probably should just get on with it but I just recently came across- Whoa!" A startled John quickly reached up and grabbed the padded roll bar.

Em swung into the parking lot almost on two wheels, Tokyo drifting into a just barely adequate parallel parking spot. Mere inches from the curb, Em looked around checking.

"Am I...?"

"Oh Yeah, yeah! Were-We're good!" a wide-eyed John replied looking down on the less than 2-inch gap between the tire and the curb.