§ § § -- October 31, 1982
Leslie had borrowed one of the red canopy-topped station wagons to get herself and Frida to the party. She had to park the car along the dirt lane in front of the Sensei home because the gravel driveway was full of bicycles. "I wonder if we're the last ones here," said Leslie.
Frida shrugged. "It's not so easy to see that. I know Myeko invited many people." So saying, she gathered the skirt of her long white satin gown and climbed out of the car. Leslie, patting her pocket to be sure the vial was still there, followed her along to the front door.
Myeko's seven-year-old sister Sayuri answered the door and gaped at them both, eyes popping. "Wow!!" she finally burst out. "Gosh, you're pretty...and you're invisible!"
"So we are," Leslie said with a laugh. "Hope you don't mind if we come in."
"Gee, how'd you do that?" Sayuri marveled. "Can you see yourself in the mirror?"
"I don't know," Leslie realized. "I never thought of that, and I don't think Mr. Roarke did either. Frida, why don't you go first...and turn on your candles. Is there a switch?"
For a moment or two Leslie and Frida inspected the candle crown and finally found a small switch which Frida pushed. The candles promptly came alight, and Frida set the crown back on her head while Sayuri stared in wonder. Leslie had to nudge the little girl before she said, "Oh yeah. Party's down there and go in the door on the left. I wish my mom would let me be at the party, but she said it's just for teenagers and Myeko'd probably get mad if she saw me there anyway."
"Oh, c'mon, didn't you go trick-or-treating earlier?" Leslie asked, grinning. "Look at it this way -- you don't have to share your candy, since we have all that other stuff at the party."
Sayuri brightened. "Hey yeah, you're right!" she exclaimed. "I'm gonna see if I can have some now. Have fun." She scampered off, and Leslie and Frida made their way into the den where the party was already in full swing. Frida slipped in first, and when some of the "oohing" and "aahing" had died down, Leslie -- unable to resist a theatrical entrance -- stepped through the doorway.
This time, everyone nearby froze and gawked. Then Myeko yelled, "Leslie Hamilton, is that you? Oh my God, I can't believe it!"
"How do you know who it is?" asked someone Leslie didn't know.
"She lives with Mr. Roarke," Myeko said in a tone that suggested the speaker must be an idiot and that this statement should be enough to explain everything. She approached Leslie along with Michiko, Lauren, Camille and Maureen. "This is unreal. How'd you do it?" She reached out and poked at Leslie, who playfully poked her friend right back.
"Mr. Roarke let me use a potion," she said, studying her friends' costumes. "You guys all look terrific." Maureen was dressed as a Romanian bride, using her mother's costume and accessories; Myeko was decked out as a clown; Camille was clad in a slinky black cat outfit with broom straws stuck to her face for whiskers and lots of bright green eye shadow; Lauren had decided to be Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz"; and Michiko was outfitted as a Japanese geisha.
"Thanks," the others chorused, still gaping at her. Even Camille seemed impressed. Lauren reached out and pinched Leslie's arm, remarking, "I guess you're really there all right. So you got to use a potion? Geez, we should've known." The girls laughed.
"Does it wear off?" queried Camille.
"Yeah, this dose should last till about nine or so, and it takes about half an hour to wear off completely. I've got another dose on me. When the first one wears off I'll just take the second one. In the meantime I'll look like a ghost for awhile."
Myeko wailed melodramatically, "Aw, now that's not fair! A two-in-one costume!" The girls laughed and began to weave their way through groups of kids towards the refreshment table.
The party went smoothly for the first few hours or so. By around 9:15 people were beginning to stare at Leslie again, this time because her first dose of potion was wearing off and she had acquired a rather eerie transparency. The boy she was dancing with -- Camille's older brother Tommy -- kept reaching out and tapping her arm or hand, trying to convince himself she was solid and corporeal. "You know," he said, "maybe next year you could convince Mr. Roarke to alter that potion of his so you can look like a ghost for longer than however long it takes for this stuff to wear off."
Leslie laughed. "I wonder if there's even going to be a party next year," she said. "Wish I'd thought of it last year, instead of my awful Bride of Frankenstein. Once I'm fully visible I have to take my other dose."
"Too bad," Tommy bantered. "I won't be able to see where to kiss you later."
"Sorry," Leslie said lightly, trying to hide her sudden unease at this remark. She liked Tommy well enough, but not to the point where she was interested in him as a boyfriend.
Tommy took it good-naturedly. "Let's get some more punch," he suggested.
Leslie agreed, and they found the refreshment table, where Myeko's mother had come down long enough to replenish the drinks and snacks. Mrs. Sensei smiled at the two and then blinked at sight of Leslie. "Good heavens," she said. "Are you all right, Leslie?"
Leslie and Tommy laughed. "I'm fine, Mrs. Sensei," Leslie assured her and explained why she looked like a ghost. Mrs. Sensei laughed as well.
"Very clever idea," she said. "Well, I'm glad you're all having a good time." At that point Camille, Myeko, and Frida, who was with a girl Leslie didn't know, all came up to the table at the same time. "Hi, girls. I had no idea there would be so many people here. I had to run out for more snacks and soda."
Camille grinned. "Guess you can be thankful we're all seniors and this won't be happening again next year." Mrs. Sensei chuckled and agreed, gathering up the empty soda bottles and departing.
"I keep meaning to ask you," Leslie broke in. "How'd you get those whiskers to stay put?"
"Spirit gum," Camille told her. "Myeko borrowed some from the drama department and let me use it. The stuff really works. What do you think of Michiko's outfit?"
"Gorgeous," Leslie said. "I'd love to know where she got the costume." The girls chatted idly for a few minutes about costumes they liked; the girl next to Frida tuned in. She was dressed to look like a member of the glam-rock band Kiss, and had clearly been teetering on her enormous platform shoes for a little too long. She pulled them off as she spoke.
"Who do you think will win the costume prizes?" she asked. "Actually, if you ask me, Leslie here has it all sewn up for most original."
Camille shrugged. "She probably does. Cripes, Michelle, didn't you know Kiss is out? How come you dressed up like that?"
Michelle laughed. "I waited too long to go to the rental shop, and this was one of the last three or four they had left. So I'm stuck pretending to be Peter Criss all night long. These shoes are absolute killers. Wish I'd thought of something like Frida's costume." She turned to Frida, who still stood beside her. "How did you come up with that costume idea? It's Saint Lucia, isn't it?"
Frida nodded, features brightening. "Julie helped me. I wasn't sure if I would like this, but it has been a lovely party."
"En härlig fest," Michelle said unexpectedly in Swedish.
"Are you teaching her Swedish, Frida?" Leslie asked with interest.
"Yes, she asked to learn a little," Frida said a little sheepishly. "We have become good friends since I came here last year. Michelle has learned much about Sweden and it has been nice to know someone who is interested in my country."
"Geeeeeez," Camille groaned rudely. "If you miss Sweden so much, then what're you doing here? Why don't you just go back?"
Michelle and Leslie stared at Camille in complete shock; Frida blinked, looking as if Camille had hit her. Tommy, who had been hanging around just behind Leslie, demanded, "Camille, what's wrong with you?"
Camille seemed not to have heard him. "Ever since you showed up here, all I ever hear anymore is stuff about Sweden. I'm really sick and tired of you and that place. You should've stayed in that cradle-to-grave welfare state of yours and rotted there. We don't need you here! Why don't you go back home?"
"Shut up, Camille," Tommy warned, face red with fury.
Frida's eyes were full of tears, but she was a little more composed than Leslie and Michelle, who were still too stunned to speak. "Why do you hate me so? I have never tried to harm you."
"I just hate Swedish people," Camille shouted. Leslie turned pale, but no one noticed. "All that free-sex stuff and the porn movies...makes you people think you can do anything you want. It sure made that creep think he could get away with raping my sister!"
Her last words stopped the party cold, as though a switch had been flipped. Everyone gaped at Camille, whose broom-straw whiskers quivered in time to her furious trembling. Tommy looked as if he would have liked to melt through the floor; Frida's face was white and tears were pouring out of her eyes. Michelle shot Camille a disgusted glare and put a comforting arm around Frida's shoulders.
Then Leslie spoke in a deadly quiet voice. "So does that mean you hate me too?" she wanted to know. Some part of her registered amazement that she could even open her mouth; mostly she was just numb.
Camille gave her an impatient glance. "What's this got to do with you?"
"News flash," Leslie said, sarcasm building with every word. "I'm part Swedish myself. So I suppose that means you must hate me too. God knows you've been barely tolerant of me ever since I came to Fantasy Island. I don't know what makes you think your sister's rape justifies you hating Swedish people, but now that I've seen this side of you, I'm not so sure I want to be friends with you anymore. And frankly, I think it's time for me to go home."
"I will go with you," Frida murmured, voice choked with tears.
"I'll come too," Michelle said loyally. One after another, Michiko, Maureen, Lauren and several others announced their intentions to leave as well.
"Wait a minute!" cried Myeko. "Just wait a minute!" She marched up to Camille and shoved her garishly-made-up face right into Camille's startled one. "If anyone's leaving here, it's you, Camille Ichino. Before you break up my party with your stupid racist ideas, you better get out of here and don't even think about coming back. And hurry up before we decide to lynch you!"
Camille actually looked taken aback. She stepped back once, stared at Leslie as if in disbelief, then glanced around at the sea of hostile faces glaring at her. She drew in a breath and finally moved hesitantly for the doorway. Other kids parted to let her pass, drawing away from her as if she were contagious. In the complete silence, they heard her footsteps break into a run once she'd cleared the den; and a moment later, the front door thudded shut behind her.
"I remember that you said your grandmother came from Sweden," Frida ventured, speaking to Leslie in a watery whisper.
Leslie nodded faintly. "Her name was Ingunna Hansson. She was my mother's mother, and the only grandparent I knew. I knew Camille was being nasty to you, but I didn't know why till now."
"What's her problem, anyway?" Myeko wanted to know. The noise of the party had begun welling up again, enough to cover her angry demand. "Leslie's right -- Camille's been really cruel to Frida, and for that matter, she's never exactly been overly welcoming to Leslie either. She get a bee up her butt?"
Tommy sighed deeply. "It's a long story, Myeko," he said. "Listen, thanks for inviting me to the party, it's been great. But I think I better get on home too." He hesitated. "Lauren knows what happened. You could ask her." With that, he turned and departed the den, head hanging.
"You okay, Leslie? Frida?" Myeko asked anxiously.
Frida nodded, and Michelle said, "Don't worry, I'll keep her company. Come on, Frida, let's go find Janine and Caitlyn." Frida let Michelle lead her off into the crowd.
"You don't look too good," Myeko told Leslie frankly.
"I'll bet," Leslie said and grimaced. "Might as well take my other shot of potion right now, so nobody has to look at me." She pulled the vial out of her pocket and drained its remaining contents; Myeko stared as, from her point of view, Leslie faded rapidly out of sight, leaving only her clothing to show that she was still there.
"Eerie," Myeko pronounced, shaking her head. "Come on, have something to drink. It'll help you feel better." Leslie acquiesced, but she wondered if she had just managed to lose someone she'd thought was a friend.
Leslie had borrowed one of the red canopy-topped station wagons to get herself and Frida to the party. She had to park the car along the dirt lane in front of the Sensei home because the gravel driveway was full of bicycles. "I wonder if we're the last ones here," said Leslie.
Frida shrugged. "It's not so easy to see that. I know Myeko invited many people." So saying, she gathered the skirt of her long white satin gown and climbed out of the car. Leslie, patting her pocket to be sure the vial was still there, followed her along to the front door.
Myeko's seven-year-old sister Sayuri answered the door and gaped at them both, eyes popping. "Wow!!" she finally burst out. "Gosh, you're pretty...and you're invisible!"
"So we are," Leslie said with a laugh. "Hope you don't mind if we come in."
"Gee, how'd you do that?" Sayuri marveled. "Can you see yourself in the mirror?"
"I don't know," Leslie realized. "I never thought of that, and I don't think Mr. Roarke did either. Frida, why don't you go first...and turn on your candles. Is there a switch?"
For a moment or two Leslie and Frida inspected the candle crown and finally found a small switch which Frida pushed. The candles promptly came alight, and Frida set the crown back on her head while Sayuri stared in wonder. Leslie had to nudge the little girl before she said, "Oh yeah. Party's down there and go in the door on the left. I wish my mom would let me be at the party, but she said it's just for teenagers and Myeko'd probably get mad if she saw me there anyway."
"Oh, c'mon, didn't you go trick-or-treating earlier?" Leslie asked, grinning. "Look at it this way -- you don't have to share your candy, since we have all that other stuff at the party."
Sayuri brightened. "Hey yeah, you're right!" she exclaimed. "I'm gonna see if I can have some now. Have fun." She scampered off, and Leslie and Frida made their way into the den where the party was already in full swing. Frida slipped in first, and when some of the "oohing" and "aahing" had died down, Leslie -- unable to resist a theatrical entrance -- stepped through the doorway.
This time, everyone nearby froze and gawked. Then Myeko yelled, "Leslie Hamilton, is that you? Oh my God, I can't believe it!"
"How do you know who it is?" asked someone Leslie didn't know.
"She lives with Mr. Roarke," Myeko said in a tone that suggested the speaker must be an idiot and that this statement should be enough to explain everything. She approached Leslie along with Michiko, Lauren, Camille and Maureen. "This is unreal. How'd you do it?" She reached out and poked at Leslie, who playfully poked her friend right back.
"Mr. Roarke let me use a potion," she said, studying her friends' costumes. "You guys all look terrific." Maureen was dressed as a Romanian bride, using her mother's costume and accessories; Myeko was decked out as a clown; Camille was clad in a slinky black cat outfit with broom straws stuck to her face for whiskers and lots of bright green eye shadow; Lauren had decided to be Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz"; and Michiko was outfitted as a Japanese geisha.
"Thanks," the others chorused, still gaping at her. Even Camille seemed impressed. Lauren reached out and pinched Leslie's arm, remarking, "I guess you're really there all right. So you got to use a potion? Geez, we should've known." The girls laughed.
"Does it wear off?" queried Camille.
"Yeah, this dose should last till about nine or so, and it takes about half an hour to wear off completely. I've got another dose on me. When the first one wears off I'll just take the second one. In the meantime I'll look like a ghost for awhile."
Myeko wailed melodramatically, "Aw, now that's not fair! A two-in-one costume!" The girls laughed and began to weave their way through groups of kids towards the refreshment table.
The party went smoothly for the first few hours or so. By around 9:15 people were beginning to stare at Leslie again, this time because her first dose of potion was wearing off and she had acquired a rather eerie transparency. The boy she was dancing with -- Camille's older brother Tommy -- kept reaching out and tapping her arm or hand, trying to convince himself she was solid and corporeal. "You know," he said, "maybe next year you could convince Mr. Roarke to alter that potion of his so you can look like a ghost for longer than however long it takes for this stuff to wear off."
Leslie laughed. "I wonder if there's even going to be a party next year," she said. "Wish I'd thought of it last year, instead of my awful Bride of Frankenstein. Once I'm fully visible I have to take my other dose."
"Too bad," Tommy bantered. "I won't be able to see where to kiss you later."
"Sorry," Leslie said lightly, trying to hide her sudden unease at this remark. She liked Tommy well enough, but not to the point where she was interested in him as a boyfriend.
Tommy took it good-naturedly. "Let's get some more punch," he suggested.
Leslie agreed, and they found the refreshment table, where Myeko's mother had come down long enough to replenish the drinks and snacks. Mrs. Sensei smiled at the two and then blinked at sight of Leslie. "Good heavens," she said. "Are you all right, Leslie?"
Leslie and Tommy laughed. "I'm fine, Mrs. Sensei," Leslie assured her and explained why she looked like a ghost. Mrs. Sensei laughed as well.
"Very clever idea," she said. "Well, I'm glad you're all having a good time." At that point Camille, Myeko, and Frida, who was with a girl Leslie didn't know, all came up to the table at the same time. "Hi, girls. I had no idea there would be so many people here. I had to run out for more snacks and soda."
Camille grinned. "Guess you can be thankful we're all seniors and this won't be happening again next year." Mrs. Sensei chuckled and agreed, gathering up the empty soda bottles and departing.
"I keep meaning to ask you," Leslie broke in. "How'd you get those whiskers to stay put?"
"Spirit gum," Camille told her. "Myeko borrowed some from the drama department and let me use it. The stuff really works. What do you think of Michiko's outfit?"
"Gorgeous," Leslie said. "I'd love to know where she got the costume." The girls chatted idly for a few minutes about costumes they liked; the girl next to Frida tuned in. She was dressed to look like a member of the glam-rock band Kiss, and had clearly been teetering on her enormous platform shoes for a little too long. She pulled them off as she spoke.
"Who do you think will win the costume prizes?" she asked. "Actually, if you ask me, Leslie here has it all sewn up for most original."
Camille shrugged. "She probably does. Cripes, Michelle, didn't you know Kiss is out? How come you dressed up like that?"
Michelle laughed. "I waited too long to go to the rental shop, and this was one of the last three or four they had left. So I'm stuck pretending to be Peter Criss all night long. These shoes are absolute killers. Wish I'd thought of something like Frida's costume." She turned to Frida, who still stood beside her. "How did you come up with that costume idea? It's Saint Lucia, isn't it?"
Frida nodded, features brightening. "Julie helped me. I wasn't sure if I would like this, but it has been a lovely party."
"En härlig fest," Michelle said unexpectedly in Swedish.
"Are you teaching her Swedish, Frida?" Leslie asked with interest.
"Yes, she asked to learn a little," Frida said a little sheepishly. "We have become good friends since I came here last year. Michelle has learned much about Sweden and it has been nice to know someone who is interested in my country."
"Geeeeeez," Camille groaned rudely. "If you miss Sweden so much, then what're you doing here? Why don't you just go back?"
Michelle and Leslie stared at Camille in complete shock; Frida blinked, looking as if Camille had hit her. Tommy, who had been hanging around just behind Leslie, demanded, "Camille, what's wrong with you?"
Camille seemed not to have heard him. "Ever since you showed up here, all I ever hear anymore is stuff about Sweden. I'm really sick and tired of you and that place. You should've stayed in that cradle-to-grave welfare state of yours and rotted there. We don't need you here! Why don't you go back home?"
"Shut up, Camille," Tommy warned, face red with fury.
Frida's eyes were full of tears, but she was a little more composed than Leslie and Michelle, who were still too stunned to speak. "Why do you hate me so? I have never tried to harm you."
"I just hate Swedish people," Camille shouted. Leslie turned pale, but no one noticed. "All that free-sex stuff and the porn movies...makes you people think you can do anything you want. It sure made that creep think he could get away with raping my sister!"
Her last words stopped the party cold, as though a switch had been flipped. Everyone gaped at Camille, whose broom-straw whiskers quivered in time to her furious trembling. Tommy looked as if he would have liked to melt through the floor; Frida's face was white and tears were pouring out of her eyes. Michelle shot Camille a disgusted glare and put a comforting arm around Frida's shoulders.
Then Leslie spoke in a deadly quiet voice. "So does that mean you hate me too?" she wanted to know. Some part of her registered amazement that she could even open her mouth; mostly she was just numb.
Camille gave her an impatient glance. "What's this got to do with you?"
"News flash," Leslie said, sarcasm building with every word. "I'm part Swedish myself. So I suppose that means you must hate me too. God knows you've been barely tolerant of me ever since I came to Fantasy Island. I don't know what makes you think your sister's rape justifies you hating Swedish people, but now that I've seen this side of you, I'm not so sure I want to be friends with you anymore. And frankly, I think it's time for me to go home."
"I will go with you," Frida murmured, voice choked with tears.
"I'll come too," Michelle said loyally. One after another, Michiko, Maureen, Lauren and several others announced their intentions to leave as well.
"Wait a minute!" cried Myeko. "Just wait a minute!" She marched up to Camille and shoved her garishly-made-up face right into Camille's startled one. "If anyone's leaving here, it's you, Camille Ichino. Before you break up my party with your stupid racist ideas, you better get out of here and don't even think about coming back. And hurry up before we decide to lynch you!"
Camille actually looked taken aback. She stepped back once, stared at Leslie as if in disbelief, then glanced around at the sea of hostile faces glaring at her. She drew in a breath and finally moved hesitantly for the doorway. Other kids parted to let her pass, drawing away from her as if she were contagious. In the complete silence, they heard her footsteps break into a run once she'd cleared the den; and a moment later, the front door thudded shut behind her.
"I remember that you said your grandmother came from Sweden," Frida ventured, speaking to Leslie in a watery whisper.
Leslie nodded faintly. "Her name was Ingunna Hansson. She was my mother's mother, and the only grandparent I knew. I knew Camille was being nasty to you, but I didn't know why till now."
"What's her problem, anyway?" Myeko wanted to know. The noise of the party had begun welling up again, enough to cover her angry demand. "Leslie's right -- Camille's been really cruel to Frida, and for that matter, she's never exactly been overly welcoming to Leslie either. She get a bee up her butt?"
Tommy sighed deeply. "It's a long story, Myeko," he said. "Listen, thanks for inviting me to the party, it's been great. But I think I better get on home too." He hesitated. "Lauren knows what happened. You could ask her." With that, he turned and departed the den, head hanging.
"You okay, Leslie? Frida?" Myeko asked anxiously.
Frida nodded, and Michelle said, "Don't worry, I'll keep her company. Come on, Frida, let's go find Janine and Caitlyn." Frida let Michelle lead her off into the crowd.
"You don't look too good," Myeko told Leslie frankly.
"I'll bet," Leslie said and grimaced. "Might as well take my other shot of potion right now, so nobody has to look at me." She pulled the vial out of her pocket and drained its remaining contents; Myeko stared as, from her point of view, Leslie faded rapidly out of sight, leaving only her clothing to show that she was still there.
"Eerie," Myeko pronounced, shaking her head. "Come on, have something to drink. It'll help you feel better." Leslie acquiesced, but she wondered if she had just managed to lose someone she'd thought was a friend.