Jamie crosses The Terrace to the pedestrian access of Farmers Lane onto Lambton Quay, then along to Featherston until he reaches the post office. In his arms is a small package wrapped in newspaper. He buys a box for shipping, writes his friend's address, and sends it on its way. Vegemite, he's learned, is an amusing gift for Americans.
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Being a Customs Agent for American Border Security was an arduous task, as Leroy had become well aware. One had to be on the lookout for any number of contraband items hidden in ever-more-creative ways. Just last week he found a sheet of LSD tucked into the pages of a economics text book (he thanked his keen detective skills for that one. For one, the package was from Great Britain. He didn't know much about the British except that America fought a war against them, and if they were an enemy of democracy once, then, well--"a leopard can't change its spots," he once told his apprentice, Jolene). But the package he now had before him was puzzling. He decided to start with the package's place of origin.
The return address was from New Zealand. Leroy had never heard of New Zealand, but he didn't like the looks of it on paper. That is, he didn't trust the letter "Z." It looked suspicious.
"What you got there, Leroy?" Jolene called from the break room. She was half-way through her Big Mac. Leroy had already finished both of his and was now working through his super-sized fries.
"Somethin' from New Zealand, Jo" he replied. He overemphasized the "Z" so that Jolene might pick up its sinister undertones, but it did little more than tickle his nose hairs.
"You thinkin' it's drugs?" Jolene shouted, spitting flakes of sesame bun as she chewed.
"I don't know, but I don't like the looks of that 'Z'." He said, shaking his head. Jolene knew about Leroy's hunches when it came to the alphabet. His first rule of thumb was to think of the states. If there isn't a state that begins with that letter, then that's a mark against it. He continued, "You know any states that begin with 'Z', Jo?"
"No, but 'Texas' got an 'X' in it." Jolene felt proud of herself.
"Yeah," Leroy replied, "But if there's one thing I know it's that an 'X' ain't a 'Z.' Besides, 'Texas' begins with 'T,' and 'T' ain't 'Z' either, even though they sound alike a little."
"Guess you got a point." Jolene took a long swig from her Diet Coke.
"I'm gonna need to investigate deeper," Leroy said as he tore the package open. The yellow-topped container of Vegemite fell to the table. Jolene came over to look.
"What is it? Hairspray?" Jolene asked.
"Don't think so. I don't see a spray button." Leroy stuck his finger in his ear. He found this helped him when he was trying to think. "It says here 'Vegemite.' It could be some kind of vegetable." He felt he was making progress. The finger-in-the-ear was doing the trick.
"Well, if it's vegetables, then we can't let 'em in into America. That's 'gainst the law." Jolene remarked with conviction.
"I know, Jo, but this stuff is brown. And vegetables are either green or red."
"Or orange," Jo added.
"Or orange," Leroy agreed.
"Or yellow."
"Or yellow."
"Or red."
"I said red," Leroy was really going to have to concentrate. He pushed his finger deeper into his ear. "I think I've got it," he said with a smile. "What else do you know that's brown?"
"Hmmm," Jolene picked the food from her teeth while she thought about it. "boats . . . dogs . . . shoes, sometimes . . . a turd . . . lakes. That's it, a lake!"
"Now Jo, you ever heard of someone sending a lake in the mail?" Leroy asked. Jolene had to admit that she hadn't . . . yet. "No, Jo this is much worse. This brown jar is a terrorist!"
Jolene let out a gasp of horror and was so taken aback she slightly wet herself.
"It's quite obvious now that I put it together: the letter 'Z', the color brown like the color of Osama bin Laden." Leroy said.
"Osama bin Laden," Jolene repeated, softer and to herself.
"Yep. Someone has sent us a jar or terror, a threat to America and democracy . . . "
"And freedom," Jolene interrupted.
"I was getting to that, Jo. You always just butt in." Leroy snapped.
"Sorry."
"It's okay. Anyway, who ever sent this jar of terror didn't count on us getting our hands on it, did they, Jo?" Leroy dropped the Vegemite into a plastic baggie.
"No they didn't, Leroy."
"I'm gonna send out a notice so this kind of thing never makes into our fair country. We'll show those terrorists a thing of two, won't we Jo?"
"God bless America."
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