“Can’t you ever get off that antique you call a computer?”
It wasn’t my wife it was Xrytspet. My wife says that my computer is too up-to-date, too expensive, and too available. She never calls it an antique.
I didn’t turn my head. I said, “Scram, Xrytspet!”
She said, “Writing about King Kong?”
“Scram!”
“I can take you to Skull Island.”
I said, “There is no Skull Island. There is no King Kong. Scram!”
She said, “I can get you there in a minute.”
The next thing I knew we were on the beach at Skull Island. A heavy fog hovered over us and the surf was swishing up over my feet. I said, “Couldn’t you at least get us on land, Xrytspet?”
“Sorry!” she said. “A few steps and you’ll be out of the water.”
I said, “Now what? I can’t see a thing.”
A bearded man came out of the fog. He wore a Panama hat, a scraggly red shirt, and torn britches that were faded by the sun from a deep blue to a dull gray. I said, “Who are you?”
Xrytspet said, “This is Jonathan Hawthorne. He is our interpreter.”
“Interpreter? Why do we need an interpreter, Xrytspet?”
“So that you can talk with King Kong. My language module does not include the animal dialects. I didn’t think I would need it. I can shoot back to Fenton and get it but that would take me a second but you would have to wait for eons. By the time I got back, you would be long gone with that short meaningless lifetime of yours.”
I said, “You watched Men in Black didn’t you, Xrytspet?”
“What else is there to do at your place? So I watched it. But the Bug was right.”
I shook hands with Jonathan Hawthorne. I said, “I’m sorry we disturbed you. She thinks that King Kong is real.”
He said, “And you think that creature is real?” He pointed at Xrytspet.
I said, “You’ll get use to her. If you want her to change her appearance, just ask her. You know how women are.”
He said, “Over the years I’ve learned to leave things as they are. They can get worse, you know.”
Gradually the sun cleared the fog and we could see the jungle. I said, “I thought there was a big stockade here to keep Kong out of the village.
Jonathan said, “You’ve seen the movie. But think about it, Jarhead. If King Kong can climb the Empire State building, holding a girl in one hand and swinging his fist at airplanes with the other, don’t you think he could climb a 30 foot wall.”
Xrytspet said, “Jonathan, you are getting to know Taylor Jones, the hack writer.
Ignoring the insults I said, “So, where is he?”
Jonathan pointed towards the mountains. “Up there!”
I said¸ “Let’s go home, Xrytspet. I’m not much for climbing.”
Zap! We all three are in the mountains and there is King Kong sitting on a log, his big rump hanging over the edge like a down pillow. Our size was so small that he didn’t even notice we were there.
Jonathan took a big stick and smashed it down on King Kong’s toe. Kong looked down, offered Jonathan a finger, and lifted him up to eye level. Jonathan yelled down, “Shoot!”
“With what? I didn’t bring a canon.”
Xrytspet said, “Idiot! Ask your questions.”
I yelled, “King Kong! I would like to meet your family.”
Jonathan translated and King Kong answered in a voice not proportional to his size. I took my hands off my ears and heard him say, “Kala Topa rak rakka rotofock.”
Xrytspet said, “They are on vacation on an Island called Kala Topa.”
I said, “Why did we hire an interpreter if you can speak Kong?”
She said, “I didn’t know I could until he spoke. I think that one of my modules practiced on the way out here. You can never trust a module. Next question.”
I said, “Xrytspet, ask him how old he is.”
She did and he answered, “Kina lacka knowatol.”
Xrytspet said, “He doesn’t know. But he is 320 earth years old and is still in his teens relative to earthlings like you.”
I said, “Now we are getting somewhere. Here we have something for all mankind. It’s like the fountain of youth. All we need to find out is what he has for breakfast that makes him live so long. This is a worthwhile trip. I’m grateful to you, Xrytspet.”
Xrytspet said, “You don’t want to know what he eats. Now let’s get out of here before he finishes that snack I brought him.”
A piece of Jonathan’s foot fell right next to me. Kong picked it up with two fingers and delicately dropped it into his mouth. That was the last bit of Jonathan.
We ran.
John T. Jones, Ph.D. (tjbooks@hotmail.com, a retired VP of R&D for Lenox China, is author of detective & western novels, nonfiction (business, scientific, engineering, humor), poetry, etc. Former editor of Ceramic Industry Magazine, Jones is Executive Representative of International Wealth Success. He calls himself “Taylor Jones, the hack writer.”
More info: http://www.tjbooks.com
Business web site: http://www.bookfindhelp.com (IWS wealth-success books and kits and business newsletters / TopFlight flagpoles)
Reunion Isl. Calling Cards
