“When are we going to kom bij John and Paul?” Ringo asked. “In... u know where I mean. I’d like to be with them.”
“It’ll look too suspicious if we all leave for... that place,” George pointed out. “John would be too easy to find.”
They were sitting in a small café having breakfast, a place where not too many people came over wanting their autographs, but they were still careful not to mention the name of John’s hiding place as long as they were in public.
Ringo frowned. “So we’re not goin’ to kom bij them? I’m not just leaving John at a time like this!”
“I don’t want to leave him,” George explained patiently. “But I don’t want this Chapman to find him either.”
“Why would he find John just because we’re there? No one would know any of us were goin' there.”
George took a sip of his coffee, frowning thoughtfully. “I don't know. We’ve always been easy to find. Back when we were touring, our fans could always find us, no matter how hard we tried to keep it a secret, remember? Like they had some sort of Beatle radar.”
Ringo looked upset. “That’s our fans. Folks who aren’t fans wouldn’t have a Beatle radar.”
George nodded. “But if we’re all together, the fans will start finding us, and then this Chapman might notice all the fans going... there, and come after us.”
He was talking the way they always had in the early days, saying “us” even when only one Beatle was a target here. What affected one automatically affected them all. Ringo couldn’t help smiling.
“I’m surprised our fans haven’t found them already,” George went on, “what with there being two of us there already.”
“As long as John is safe, I don't care why,” Ringo said.
George nodded, and the two of them finished their breakfast in companionable silence.
Evanna was walking round town, keeping an eye out for trouble, ready to send a warning John's way at the first sign of danger. Her cell phone was in her hand, the better to keep in touch with her fellow fan-guardians, so she noticed right away when there was a small ping, alerting her to a text message.
The message was from another of Hazel’s vrienden who had stayed behind in London, whose name was Harry. “Evie,” the message said, “do u have a moment? There’s something u should see.”
“Sure, Harry,” Evanna texted back, pausing in her walking to lean against a uithangbord while she typed. “What is it?”
Harry’s reply came in a couple minuten later. “You know how Hazel zei we shouldn’t let word get out about John and that he’s hiding and all – well, it has.”
“Has it?” Evanna typed back, not sure how she should feel about this news. “How did it happen?” she decided to finish, and hit send.
“I don’t know,” Harry texted back. “I suppose we couldn’t have stopped it from leaking out, though. Not with so many of us in on it already. And it’s about the Beatles; nothing about them stays secret for long.”
Evanna smiled as she read that. That was true, and she loved all the attention her most favourite band always got. They deserved nothing less.
“Listen, Harry,” she texted him back after a minute's thought, “even if word has got out, let’s not worry about it, all right? It’s like Candice zei before; it can only help John to have meer people looking out for him. England’s full of people who would be meer than happy to protect him. The whole world is.”
“Yeah,” Harry replied, “but there’s one person out there who wants to kill John, and the meer people are talking about where John’s hiding, the meer chance he’ll see it.”
Evanna bit her lip, wondering if perhaps Harry was right. “But he doesn't know where John is hiding,” she wrote.
“Word could get out,” Harry told her. “It usually does.”
Evanna stared at her phone for a long minute, considering Harry's words. “Can u toon me some of the stuff u found about John?” she eventually wrote.
“Sure,” Harry texted back. “Most of the posts I’ve found have been listed under #savejohnlennon. It’s become quite a populair hashtag.”
“It should,” Evanna wrote back. “OK. I’ll have a look and see how bad this is. Then we can decide what to do.” She paused, then sent one meer message to Harry. “But as long as we have meer people on our side – I think we should take advantage of that.”
Even after he had zei good-bye to George and gone along his way, Ringo still couldn’t get George’s words about a Beatle radar out of his head. It was silly to keep thinking about it, he told himself. How could anyone know that John had gone to Paul’s farm in Scotland? And yet, fans always had seemed to know where the Beatles were going back in their touring days. George was right about that. And even without a radar, the Internet made it pretty easy to spread information that was supposed to be secret – even to people who weren’t fans.
The meer Ringo thought about it, the meer he got the inescapable feeling that someone might find out about John’s hiding place, even with only two Beatles there. In any case, it didn’t hurt to check. If anyone knew anything about what John was doing right now, they would be talking about it online.
Ringo logged on to his computer and typed John’s name into the zoek engine. The response was overwhelming. So many people talked about the Beatles – and the Beatles had such a large presence online themselves – that it would be impossible to find out what he wanted to know this way. Ringo clicked on the zoek bar again and after a moment’s thought, added the keywords, “in danger”.
This time, he got results. forums and blog and social media posts popped up, each one devoted to supporting John, and many of them bashing Chapman’s name. Most everything was tagged #savejohnlennon.
Ringo had to smile as he saw how many people were ready to support his mate, even as the reminder that John was in danger made him nervous. But maybe all this attention was a good thing. Maybe someone would catch Chapman before he had a chance to do anything to John? Ringo hoped so.
So people knew that John was in danger, and they knew who was planning to kill him. As long as they didn’t know where he was hiding – as long as Chapman didn’t know – that was fine. But how could Ringo be sure?
He clicked on the zoek bar again, his small, ring-laden fingers hesitating over the keyboard. It might be a bit risky to do this – what if these trefwoorden showed up in someone else's zoek suggestions? – but it was the quickest way to find out if anyone else knew what only the Beatles should know. He typed in, “John Lennon in danger Scotland”.
The page loaded, and a different set of results came up. There were a few random Beatle posts and some information about Scotland, and....
Several social media posts like the ones Ringo had seen before, dedicated to supporting John. Ringo clicked on the first one. This wasn’t one he had noticed during his first search. Was there anything about Scotland in particular written in this post?
Nothing in the post itself had anything to do with where John was hiding, so Ringo scrolled through the comments. The commentaar section was a particularly heated one, with everyone having a strong opinion. Some people wanted to go find John and help him, others thought this was a silly idea and John would be safer without people flocking to him in crowds. This post had gotten so much attention that some of the commentaren weren’t even from Beatles fans, and several expressed astonishment of disgust that anyone would go to this much trouble for a “silly celebrity”.
Ringo frowned a bit at this, but those nasty commentaren were hardly important right now. Was Scotland mentioned? Ringo scanned the commentaren anxiously. Yes, there it was here, and here.... “where John’s hiding in Scotland” and the similar. Ringo started to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. People knew Paul had a farm in Scotland. If word got out that John had gone up there, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out exactly where he’d gone.
And then, right at the bottom of the long line of comments, was one chilling message. “I’m going to find him in Scotland. John Lennon can’t hide from me.” He didn’t have to look at the name above the commentaar to know who had geplaatst it.
Ringo nearly dropped the mouse, feeling a sudden chill as if reading Chapman’s words meant that he could somehow see Ringo right now. Ringo shut down the Internet. His hands were shaking so much he could barely reach for his cell phone and select George’s number.
“George,” he gasped, the minuut he heard his friend pick up, “we’ve got to get to Scotland. Now!”
“It’ll look too suspicious if we all leave for... that place,” George pointed out. “John would be too easy to find.”
They were sitting in a small café having breakfast, a place where not too many people came over wanting their autographs, but they were still careful not to mention the name of John’s hiding place as long as they were in public.
Ringo frowned. “So we’re not goin’ to kom bij them? I’m not just leaving John at a time like this!”
“I don’t want to leave him,” George explained patiently. “But I don’t want this Chapman to find him either.”
“Why would he find John just because we’re there? No one would know any of us were goin' there.”
George took a sip of his coffee, frowning thoughtfully. “I don't know. We’ve always been easy to find. Back when we were touring, our fans could always find us, no matter how hard we tried to keep it a secret, remember? Like they had some sort of Beatle radar.”
Ringo looked upset. “That’s our fans. Folks who aren’t fans wouldn’t have a Beatle radar.”
George nodded. “But if we’re all together, the fans will start finding us, and then this Chapman might notice all the fans going... there, and come after us.”
He was talking the way they always had in the early days, saying “us” even when only one Beatle was a target here. What affected one automatically affected them all. Ringo couldn’t help smiling.
“I’m surprised our fans haven’t found them already,” George went on, “what with there being two of us there already.”
“As long as John is safe, I don't care why,” Ringo said.
George nodded, and the two of them finished their breakfast in companionable silence.
Evanna was walking round town, keeping an eye out for trouble, ready to send a warning John's way at the first sign of danger. Her cell phone was in her hand, the better to keep in touch with her fellow fan-guardians, so she noticed right away when there was a small ping, alerting her to a text message.
The message was from another of Hazel’s vrienden who had stayed behind in London, whose name was Harry. “Evie,” the message said, “do u have a moment? There’s something u should see.”
“Sure, Harry,” Evanna texted back, pausing in her walking to lean against a uithangbord while she typed. “What is it?”
Harry’s reply came in a couple minuten later. “You know how Hazel zei we shouldn’t let word get out about John and that he’s hiding and all – well, it has.”
“Has it?” Evanna typed back, not sure how she should feel about this news. “How did it happen?” she decided to finish, and hit send.
“I don’t know,” Harry texted back. “I suppose we couldn’t have stopped it from leaking out, though. Not with so many of us in on it already. And it’s about the Beatles; nothing about them stays secret for long.”
Evanna smiled as she read that. That was true, and she loved all the attention her most favourite band always got. They deserved nothing less.
“Listen, Harry,” she texted him back after a minute's thought, “even if word has got out, let’s not worry about it, all right? It’s like Candice zei before; it can only help John to have meer people looking out for him. England’s full of people who would be meer than happy to protect him. The whole world is.”
“Yeah,” Harry replied, “but there’s one person out there who wants to kill John, and the meer people are talking about where John’s hiding, the meer chance he’ll see it.”
Evanna bit her lip, wondering if perhaps Harry was right. “But he doesn't know where John is hiding,” she wrote.
“Word could get out,” Harry told her. “It usually does.”
Evanna stared at her phone for a long minute, considering Harry's words. “Can u toon me some of the stuff u found about John?” she eventually wrote.
“Sure,” Harry texted back. “Most of the posts I’ve found have been listed under #savejohnlennon. It’s become quite a populair hashtag.”
“It should,” Evanna wrote back. “OK. I’ll have a look and see how bad this is. Then we can decide what to do.” She paused, then sent one meer message to Harry. “But as long as we have meer people on our side – I think we should take advantage of that.”
Even after he had zei good-bye to George and gone along his way, Ringo still couldn’t get George’s words about a Beatle radar out of his head. It was silly to keep thinking about it, he told himself. How could anyone know that John had gone to Paul’s farm in Scotland? And yet, fans always had seemed to know where the Beatles were going back in their touring days. George was right about that. And even without a radar, the Internet made it pretty easy to spread information that was supposed to be secret – even to people who weren’t fans.
The meer Ringo thought about it, the meer he got the inescapable feeling that someone might find out about John’s hiding place, even with only two Beatles there. In any case, it didn’t hurt to check. If anyone knew anything about what John was doing right now, they would be talking about it online.
Ringo logged on to his computer and typed John’s name into the zoek engine. The response was overwhelming. So many people talked about the Beatles – and the Beatles had such a large presence online themselves – that it would be impossible to find out what he wanted to know this way. Ringo clicked on the zoek bar again and after a moment’s thought, added the keywords, “in danger”.
This time, he got results. forums and blog and social media posts popped up, each one devoted to supporting John, and many of them bashing Chapman’s name. Most everything was tagged #savejohnlennon.
Ringo had to smile as he saw how many people were ready to support his mate, even as the reminder that John was in danger made him nervous. But maybe all this attention was a good thing. Maybe someone would catch Chapman before he had a chance to do anything to John? Ringo hoped so.
So people knew that John was in danger, and they knew who was planning to kill him. As long as they didn’t know where he was hiding – as long as Chapman didn’t know – that was fine. But how could Ringo be sure?
He clicked on the zoek bar again, his small, ring-laden fingers hesitating over the keyboard. It might be a bit risky to do this – what if these trefwoorden showed up in someone else's zoek suggestions? – but it was the quickest way to find out if anyone else knew what only the Beatles should know. He typed in, “John Lennon in danger Scotland”.
The page loaded, and a different set of results came up. There were a few random Beatle posts and some information about Scotland, and....
Several social media posts like the ones Ringo had seen before, dedicated to supporting John. Ringo clicked on the first one. This wasn’t one he had noticed during his first search. Was there anything about Scotland in particular written in this post?
Nothing in the post itself had anything to do with where John was hiding, so Ringo scrolled through the comments. The commentaar section was a particularly heated one, with everyone having a strong opinion. Some people wanted to go find John and help him, others thought this was a silly idea and John would be safer without people flocking to him in crowds. This post had gotten so much attention that some of the commentaren weren’t even from Beatles fans, and several expressed astonishment of disgust that anyone would go to this much trouble for a “silly celebrity”.
Ringo frowned a bit at this, but those nasty commentaren were hardly important right now. Was Scotland mentioned? Ringo scanned the commentaren anxiously. Yes, there it was here, and here.... “where John’s hiding in Scotland” and the similar. Ringo started to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. People knew Paul had a farm in Scotland. If word got out that John had gone up there, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out exactly where he’d gone.
And then, right at the bottom of the long line of comments, was one chilling message. “I’m going to find him in Scotland. John Lennon can’t hide from me.” He didn’t have to look at the name above the commentaar to know who had geplaatst it.
Ringo nearly dropped the mouse, feeling a sudden chill as if reading Chapman’s words meant that he could somehow see Ringo right now. Ringo shut down the Internet. His hands were shaking so much he could barely reach for his cell phone and select George’s number.
“George,” he gasped, the minuut he heard his friend pick up, “we’ve got to get to Scotland. Now!”
