When John Frum Came

by Bill Schroeder

  “I’ll fire the quad-50. That’ll get their attention,” Gale said in a fit of excitement.

  Before Wembly could remind him that they were not equipped to take on the Japanese Navy, the junior officer was firing volleys of six rounds in the direction of the submarine.

  ___

  The Japanese officer in the conning tower heard the shooting, and saw the silhouette of the patrol boat. Thinking it was an Australian torpedo boat, he ordered his men back inside. They scrambled back up the ladder and into the vessel. They submerged as quickly as possible, and were out of sight in a matter of minutes.

  The Wombat found Yani and McDuff clutching the hull of the yawl, which had gone belly up but still had air trapped inside. Percy jumped overboard and swam to the aid of Yani, who was trying to keep something from sinking. It turned out to be the wooden box of tinkens and the missionary’s books. He held his sunglasses in his teeth, and refused to let go until Mr. Gale reached down and took the box from his hands.

  “You take magic books,” Yani called.

  Yani climbed up a rope ladder dropped over the side and Percy towed McDuff away from the sinking sailboat. Between the Patrol Officer and the Policeboy, they managed to get the white man onto the deck. Nearly unconscious, both from the exhausting experience and the malaria, he was lifted onto a blanket and carried to a bunk in one of the converted staterooms.

  “Did you see the number of cuts poor McDuff had around his face and ears? The natives must have tortured the hell out of him,” Gale said to Wembly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Neither have I. It’s not the sort of thing they do. But Christ’s Despair has always earned its name,” Wembly said. Then he turned to the two black men who were sitting on the deck talking in their own dialect. “Percy, ask him what happened back there.”

  Yani was still too excited to talk anything but his native language, and related the story to Percy, who in turn told the Patrol Officers in simplified English. He let the older man explain what happened to Thompson, but Yani tried to describe what happened to McDuff on his own.

  Forgetting Percy’s admonition about speaking English again. Performing many of the actions, he said, “Jesus in Heaven come down from altar. Make Big Man Duff bloody — look like dead. Kanakas come see him. They afraid him have too much simka. They go home.

  “Yani come. See pastor. Take him boat. Go back Chase Island. See big tinken fish. You come.”

  “But how did he get all those cuts on his head?” Gale persisted, making lines on his own face with his fingers. “Jesus cut head. Cut ears. Yani throw Jesus away. Save Big Man Duff,” he smiled.

  Percy shrugged. “Forget it for now,” Wembly said. “You speak English pretty well for a Blackfella, Yani.”

  Yani gave Negeb a guilty look. He wondered if he would now get the beating he was led to believe would follow.

  “How would you like to go to Australia with Percy and some other boys? We’ll give you some new clothes, shoes and teach you how to be a Policeboy.”

  Wembly was doing fine with his enticements, until Yani remembered how much the natives disliked Thompson’s Policeboys. Negeb had told him how they wound up on the beach. It was not a very pleasant prospect, as far as Yani was concerned.

  “This is different,” Negeb reassured him in his own tongue. “The Policeboys on the island are the first ones I ever lost. That was because they put the evil Witman in charge. I will go with you to Brisbane.”

  “After you finish, we’ll send you back to Chase Island. You like that?” Wembly promised.

  Negeb reinforced the words in their own language just in case Yani did not fully understand the English.

  “Yani go,” he said. “You send Big Man Duff, too?”

  “Big Man Duff very sick. We take him to Port Moresby until he is better. I don’t know what he will do now. There’s a war on, and he’s not British. I’m afraid he’ll be going back to America.”

  Yani was disappointed. He had really hoped to take McDuff back to Ooma as a gift.

  Chapter 18

  When McDuff came to, he realized that he was on board a ship and was lying between clean white sheets for the first time in six months. All his clothing had been removed and he had been bathed. The first word that came to mind to describe the bed was “delicious.” He had not realized how much he longed for the finer points of civilization. It was just about sunset, but in the gloom he could make out the figure of Mr. Gale sitting next to his bed.

  “Ah, you’re back with us,” Gale said. “I think you better catch up on your Quinine, old boy. I was afraid to give you anything while you were unconscious for fear you’d choke.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gale,” he lifted his head from the pillow to accept the pills and the water glass. He gathered his thoughts and asked, “Why do you think they did it?”

  “Who knows how these natives think? I guess they just got fed up with Thompson’s ways. The Head Tax must have been what pushed them over the edge.”

  “You’re right there, but I was talking about the Japanese. I tried to tell the officer on the submarine that I was an American. I’m sure I said it several times, but they just fired at us point blank. He didn’t even ask us to surrender.”

  “First off, he most likely didn’t speak English. Then, my guess is they figured you had seen them, and would report their presence. The only way they could be sure you wouldn’t alert us was to blow you out of the water. You’re just lucky we were hot on your trail, or they would have finished the job.”

  McDuff’s teeth began to chatter. “Could I trouble you for a blanket. When the chills hit, I feel like I have fallen in the snow on the slope of some ski lodge. I went to Switzerland when I was sixteen. I think that’s what I keep dreaming about.”

  Gale unfolded a blanket over the bed. “I went to school in England, but I never got anywhere on the continent beyond Paris. Some great times there,” Gale mused. “Marvelous place. I hope to get back there someday. So open. So free. Much more tolerant.”

  “I have no desire to go anywhere, now. I botched things up pretty badly here. I don’t think my family will finance another attempt at missionary work,” McDuff said in disgust.

  Gale bit his lip thoughtfully, then said, “I don’t mean to pry, Reverend, but why would an American, a man of means, ever want to come to these islands — other than as a tourist?”

  McDuff was silent, evaluating how honest he should be with this man. He made his decision. “I perceive you to be a man who would understand my problem,” he said, curling up in the blanket. “I chose the ministry because it seemed to be the most genteel way for me to go through life, without the usual hounding and harassment of one’s family to marry and settle down. I didn’t have the interests in the sports and pastimes my older brothers demonstrated.

  “I expressed a desire to devote my life to the service of the Lord, and even volunteered to come here as soon as I received my Doctorate. However, the missionary board did not think I was suited for the life, and recommended me to work on a domestic project. They were determined to convert newly arrived Irish Catholic immigrants in Boston.”

  Gale laughed. “I can see where they could use some converting. We have a bunch of them in Sydney, too.”

  “Well, at least I didn’t have the language problem I have here. They spoke a semblance of English if you listened really close,” the minister joked. He hesitated, but then went on. “The problem was I fell in love with one of the students in my Bible class. I mean I was hopelessly in love, and it became clear the emotion was returned.”

  Gale smiled knowingly. “And your family didn’t approve of you wanting to marry a Catholic girl, right?” he suggested, “And one beneath your station, as well.”

  McDuff did not answer right away, “No, Mr. Gale. Not exactly right, but close enough.”

  Gale did not respond.

  “The Catholic priest in the neighborhood heard about it when my lover went to confession.”

  “What? I tho
ught that was strictly confidential — a secret between the priest and the penitent.”

  “It is, but he found a way to get the message to my father, and to the President of my seminary. My father cursed me soundly, and disowned me. The head of the seminary agreed that the only way I could expiate my sin was to take the worst mission he could find.”

  “Well, I’d have to agree you did that. No sane British missionary would take Christ’s Despair.”

  “My father gave me a cash settlement on the grounds that I never return to the U.S., and made an arrangement with the church in which he would pay all my expenses to get me established here.”

  “Well, you can be thankful for that,” Gale said. “He might have just tossed you out on your ear.”

  The chill passed, and the fever returned. In an effort to cool off, McDuff threw back the blanket in response. “So there you have it, Mr. Gale — the shame of Moses McDuff. I truly have nowhere to go.”

  Mr. Gale leaned toward the bed and said, “I want you to know that I am your friend. Mr. Gale is so formal. I’d be pleased if you would call me Leslie.” With that, he placed his cool hand on the fevered skin of Moses McDuff’s thigh.

  ***

  Yani was not comfortable on a bunk, so Negeb had strung a hammock for him on deck. The two Chase Islanders talked for a long time about Yani’s probable trip to Australia. Negeb told Yani he could learn much to help John Frum. Finally, Yani got bored and fell asleep. He did not stir until the following morning.

  “Mr. Wembly wants to talk to you,” Negeb said waking him gently. “He will meet us in Dr. McDuff’s bedroom. The churchfella is still too sick to go up on deck.”

  They found the door to McDuff’s stateroom open, and the Patrol Officers already seated around the minister’s bed. “Good morning, Yani,” McDuff said. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I want to thank you for saving my life — several times it would seem.”

  “Good morning, Pastor Duff,” Yani said with genuine happiness. “The Lord be with you,” he added as he had been taught.

  McDuff beamed at the greeting. It showed the other white men in the room that he had been successful in converting at least one native. “I especially want to thank you for saving my Bible and my missionary book. I heard how you held on to them when the boat was sinking.”

  “Yani save God’s tinkens, too,” he added.

  “Yes, and the tinkens, too. But, I want to give you this cross as thank you.”

  McDuff gave him the mahogany cross he had been wearing around his neck since his arrival in the islands. Yani slipped the leather cord over his head and clutched it tightly. He could feel its magic sink into his heart.

  Wembly spoke. “Pardon me, doctor, but do you feel up to talking about how you got those cuts all over your head? What did the natives do to you? They must have been brutal.”

  “The natives didn’t do anything to me. It was an accident,” he said. “A stained-glass window of the Ascension of Christ fell on me from the altar, and knocked me out. It was really a providence that I was not more seriously injured.”

  “Yani said that Jesus came down from Heaven and cut your head and ears. We didn’t know what to make of it,” Mr. Wembly said. “I think it might do us all some good if we taught him to speak English a little better.”

  “I thought the policy of the government was to discourage that very thing,” McDuff said. “Why the change?”

  “It seems the standard answer for just about everything these days is ‘because we are at war.’ But in this case, it is a direct cause. We have a plan and a proposition for you Dr. McDuff. Mr. Gale tells me that you do not wish to return to the United States at this time...”

  The minister’s eyes flashed to Gale’s face. What else did he tell you, he wondered. Gale’s expression indicated that their little secret was safe.

  “Missionaries and planters on all the British-protected islands are being asked to cooperate with us in starting a vital program. That Jap sub you ran into is a good example of what we fear. I’ve reported your run-in with the sub, and I have received a great deal more information on the subject. We have reason to believe that there are a number of Japanese ships and small tactical forces sprinkled throughout the islands. Little by little they will be taking over strategic islands they can use as bases of operations in preparation for an invasion of New Guinea, New Zealand, and Australia.”

  Dr. McDuff interrupted. “I no longer have a mission, Mr. Wembly, as you well know. Even if I did, what could someone like me do against the Japanese Navy? It’s a bit out of my line don’t you think? We’re non-combatants. I think the Japanese will respect our religious positions.”

  “Not so, Dr. McDuff. Missionaries in Indo-China, Shanghai, and Singapore were among the first foreigners to be imprisoned. In many cases, they were simply shot on the spot. The Japanese are not very fond of Christians. We are religious enemies to their way of thinking. As with the submarine commander, your chances of explaining that you are an American are not very good. Just because they are not at war with your country at the moment, don’t discount the possibility that things couldn’t change.”

  “But I still can’t see what I can do.”

  “We propose to make you and Yani a team. We want you to be Coast Watchers,” the Patrol Officer said.

  Negeb had been whispering a running translation of the conversation into Yani’s ear, just in case he did not follow it on his own.

  “Coast watchers?” McDuff said.

  “When we get back to Port Moresby we will put you in Hospital until you have recovered from your malaria. As soon as you are up to it, we will teach you a number of things. Primary among them will be the operation of a two-way wireless. The other part of your training will be provided by the Royal Navy, who will teach you how to identify the silhouettes of ships and aircraft — what’s theirs, and what’s ours.

  “Yani, in the meantime, will be sent to Brisbane for some military training and English language instruction. He will take a sort of basic training for a few weeks. Actually, it will be training in our ways since he already knows how to be a warrior by virtue of the fact that he grew up on a jungle island. Percy, here, will be in charge of taking him and a few other island boys through their paces.”

  In spite of himself, McDuff was interested. “Then what?” he asked.

  “We will take you and Yani to Chase Island ... Which is where you were headed when we found you ... and you will set up a camp on the side of the volcano there. It will allow you to have a commanding view of the sea for miles around. When you see a ship or an airplane, you’ll send us a message over the wireless telling what it is, and where it’s going. That’s all there is to it.”

  McDuff laughed slightly, with an ironic note. “You’re recruiting me into your armed services. That’s quite a career jump — preacher to soldier.”

  Wembly lit his pipe and said, “We can’t make you do it. Are you interested?”

  “What’s my alternative, if I don’t accept your proposal?”

  “You hang around Port Moresby until you decide to seek your fortune elsewhere,” Wembly told him.

  The minister addressed Yani. “What do you say? Do you want to learn the white man’s ways? Do you want to go to Brisbane? Do you want to go back to Chase Island with me and work for the Patrol?”

  Negeb made sure Yani understood his options. “Yes. Yani go Brisbane. Be Policeboy on Chase Island. Only if Big Man Duff come, too.”

  McDuff reached out his hand to Yani to seal the bargain. “We’ll do it, Mr. Wembly. We’ll be Coast Watchers,” the erstwhile clergyman agreed.

  Yani shook his hand and thought, Now, I’m sure Kilibob is on this boat and we will make Ooma very happy.

  Chapter 19

  “I can’t believe it, either,” the High Commissioner said, picking up one of the telegrams on his desk. “But there’s no doubt. The message says it was The Fenestra. A German raider steamed alongside her, looking to all the world like a Dutch freighter. Then th
ey uncovered the guns on the deck and let the poor Fenestra have it broadside at the water line. They didn’t even pick up survivors.”

  “How many men made it?” Wembly asked.

  “About a dozen. One of our cruisers picked them up the next day. Sharks tore hell out of them though,” the official said.

  “How about my friend, Jake Vogel, the purser? Did he make it?”

  “He was one of the lucky ones. At least I saw his name on the list of survivors. I don’t know what condition he was in, though.”

  Wembly began pacing the office. “You know, your Lordship, that we were planning to send our native boys to Brisbane on the Fenestra. We need to get the Coast Watcher program running as soon as possible to prevent just such mishaps as this. The sailboat belonging to that American missionary we brought in the other day was sunk by a Jap sub. We need some way of knowing when they’re around, besides following the trail of devastation they apparently plan to leave.”

  “We don’t have any other ships going to Brisbane for the next few weeks, so far as I know. What else do you suggest?” asked the official.

  “You know, the Americans owe us one since I saved one of their people from certain death,” Wembly smirked.

  “What are you getting at, Wembly?”

  “Have you seen that big flying boat they have moored next to the Navy yard? I think they call it a PBY. I wonder if we could persuade them to take a flight to Australia.”

  The High Commissioner laughed. “You show me a sailor who has spent a week in Port Moresby who isn’t ready to take a trip to the mainland. I’ve been entertaining their Commander. His orders are to just sit tight until some more of the U.S. Navy catches up with him. We could offer to pay for the petrol, if that’s a problem.”

  “I’m willing to bet they will jump at the chance to spend a week in Australia. Let’s give it a try,” Wembly declared confidently.