John Frum The Reluctant Messiah

Suddenly Motivated

One woman broke through the crowd, quickly approached, hugging her and began frantically speaking to her in Bislama. Em listened. Nodding in understanding she replied to her in Bislama as well. The woman smiled in relief, hugged her again, this time with more intensity and continued on the pathway towards the beach waving until she was clear out of sight. 

"Everything Ok?" John asked. 

"Oh, yeah. She has six children all under the age of 8 and they got into her grandparent's bones and now she doesn't know whose is whose." 

"Wait. Are these bones the grandparents have, or is this THE Grandparent's...bones?" 

"Yeah, this is Nana and Pappy- or what's left after they've been dried out. Ancestry and lineage are paramount to these folks. I'm just going to put Mr. and Mrs. Humpty back together again. No big deal." 

"You can do that?" 

"Uh huh. That's what I do, sorta, remember?" 

Professor Wharton was already there, barking orders in Bislama to his men. The villagers were all dressed in their customary finery for an event of this magnitude. After all, it was not often that a magistrate came to their little corner of the world. Most had no idea why he had come but welcomed the distraction and wanted to be a part of it. 

John looked at Em and said, "I should have known he would beat us here. He didn't say a word when I spoke to him, but come to think of it, he wasn't surprised either when I told him about the nautilus appearing."

Wharton turned in time to see them approaching. His face lit up and his arms opened wide in greeting Em.

"It has been too long! How are you sweetness?" Their embrace was warm and long held. "You look great!" the professor said, "I see you've met my worst student."

 "Ouch?" John reacted. "Nice to see you too."

"Oh, Professor, I think there's reason to hope. He has a few useful skills," Em said, shooting John a glance.

"Well, no time to waste. The trial is scheduled to start this afternoon and we need to be there." Professor Wharton said as he tied up his pack. "Sam's gone to get us some sort of transportation- otherwise we'll never make it. It's too far to hike it, at least it is for me...now."

Sitting at the far end of the runway near the remains of a dilapidated fueling shed sat a crude version of a Grumman Hellcat fighter. The detail was certainly amazing considering it had been, like everything else, made entirely of bamboo and jungle vines.

"We could just fly there," Professor Wharton joked, pointing towards the Hellcat.

"As long as John's not our pilot," Em was quick to add. John just smiled and shook his head.

Not long after, the distant sound of combustion otherwise foreign to these parts, became increasingly louder, culminating with Sam roaring around the corner of the shed riding a motorcycle. But not just any motorcycle. It was a 1944 Army issue Harley-Davidson complete with a sidecar and from the looks of it, it probably hadn't been disturbed since the day the allies left. Other than being a little dirty and dusty, it was in pristine condition. 

John suddenly flashed on how his life had so drastically changed in the last few weeks. Seeing an elderly tribal chief, dressed in full ceremonial regalia screaming down a jungle path atop a Harley, while not exactly commonplace, failed to be astonishing. He wasn't sure if life was entirely good, but it certainly wasn't boring.

"My ass hurts just looking at that thing," the professor lamented.Sam hobbled off the seat, his near permanent grin pinned on his face.

"Yes. Very fast." he shouted above the idling bike. The professor grimaced.

"Sam, is this the best you can do? I mean-"

"Yes. Very fast." Sam yelled. 

Turning to John, Professor Wharton asked,"You know anything about these things?"

"How hard can it be?" John quipped. The professor and Em began loading their things into the bike's limited storage space.

Sam limped over to John. His smile was now gone.

"We call and you came. God Bless America John Frum. They take Heylia. Giants take her, John Frum."

"What!?"

"Four giants hold me." Sam began to weep. "Take her away. To inside." He quickly collected himself. "You will find her, John Frum. You will remember your time inside with elders. You be...John Frum."

John was left reeling at the news of Heylia's kidnapping. Everything went white. He stood paralyzed for a moment, unable to speak. It could not be possible. This was little Heylia. She was ten years old for Christ's sake! He knew all too well her fate if he didn't act quickly. With new found conviction, he looked at Sam intently, reached out and held his shoulders,

"I will try."

Sam abruptly recoiled, moving back in disbelief and shook his head. "No try John Frum! No try! There is no try, only do!"

John's eyes narrowed, studying Sam's face. Did he just quote Yoda? Slowly a mischievous smile crept onto Sam's face. He leaned in now grabbing John's shoulders and slowly whispered, "You Tube." His face quickly regained its somber state and anger crept across it.

" You find her John Frum! You bring her back to me!"

He turned and walked away leaving John perplexed and stunned.