§ § § -- April 25, 1992

It was just as well that their second guest was local, because the fantasizers who had disembarked at the plane dock had been an entire family of about a dozen cousins whose fantasy was to go back to meet their common ancestor, a great-great-grandmother who had immigrated from a little town in Greece. They'd taken up all the space on the charter and had completely run through the native girls' stock of leis and drinks. Roarke and Leslie had to take them to the covered bridge some little distance off the Old Swamp Road in order to dispatch them into their fantasy all at the same time.

"What a boisterous bunch," Leslie observed laughingly on their way back to the main house. "I sure hope they have a good time."

"Oh, I think they will," Roarke said, with that mysterious look he so often got in the early stages of a fantasy. "With, of course, the usual surprise along the way."

When he didn't elaborate, she pretended exasperation. "Did you always used to keep Tattoo in this kind of suspense?" she asked.

"Of course," Roarke replied as if it went without saying. "If I hadn't, he would have become quite jaded."

Leslie snickered. "Oh, sure," she scoffed cheerfully. Roarke grinned back.

"Let's see if our other guest is awaiting us," he said, turning the corner onto the Main House Lane. "I understand you have been particularly curious about her fantasy."

"Incredibly," Leslie said. "Michiko remembered her from choir in high school, but none of the other girls did. I can't quite figure out how she knew me though."

"I should think that would be obvious," remarked Roarke, parking the car next to the fountain and silencing the engine.

Leslie laughed. "I don't mean like that, Father. If she knew me only for being your daughter and assistant, then she wouldn't have addressed her letter to me, any more than any other fantasizer does. There must be some reason she did it, and I can't wait to find out what it is."

"Then shall we go in and find out?" Roarke invited whimsically, and she grinned back at him before they both stepped out of the car and made their way up the walk and across the veranda to the front door.

A slender young woman stood uncertainly in the middle of the study; she turned sharply when they came in and essayed a tentative smile. She had thick black hair and large, deerlike brown eyes; in one hand she clutched what looked like a small piece of paper. Roarke nodded at her. "Good morning, Miss Zuma."

"Hello, Mr. Roarke," replied Tabitha Zuma in a soft voice that was spiced with a gentle, exotic accent unfamiliar to Leslie. "Hello, Leslie…it's good to see you again. I thank you both for granting my fantasy."

"You're quite welcome," Roarke said warmly, going to the desk. "Please do sit down; I hope you weren't kept waiting long."

"No, I've only just arrived." Tabitha carefully settled herself into a club chair and Leslie paused for a moment.

"Something to drink?" she asked.

Tabitha shook her head. "No, thank you." She smiled up at Leslie in a way that made the latter woman hesitate again.

Finally Leslie gave in to her rampaging curiosity. "You said you're seeing me 'again'," she said. "I'm really sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Tabitha blushed heavily, just the way Michiko had described. "I didn't think you'd remember," she admitted. "In our final year of high school, you talked Myeko Sensei into giving me an invitation to the last of her famous Halloween parties. I remember that you came as the Invisible Girl, and absolutely stole the show."

Leslie's memory was jogged quite suddenly, and she blinked in amazement. "That's right…I remember that now!" she exclaimed. "My gosh, I'd forgotten all about that!"

"I never did," Tabitha admitted with a little smile. "I wanted all evening long to go to you and thank you for that kindness, but I never found the courage. I was extremely shy in those days, and my English was nearly nonexistent at the time. I could read and write it just fine, but speaking it was very difficult for me. I did make a friend at the party that night, though, and she tutored me so that I learned to speak the language much better."

"I see," said Leslie and turned red herself, settling into the other chair. "I wish you had come and said something that night. Now that I remember, obviously I never got to meet you. What kind of costume were you wearing?"

"I was an Aztec princess," Tabitha explained, "which leads me to my fantasy." She turned to face Roarke, who had been listening to their exchange with patient interest. "You see, Mr. Roarke, I was born in a tiny isolated village in Mexico. I'm pure-blooded Aztec—one of few remaining in modern times. Our village stayed isolated until I was about ten, and I never spoke anything but Náhuatl until developers eventually broke through the jungle and stumbled over us. Word went back to the authorities, and everyone was relocated to the nearest large city, Mérida. The men had to get jobs—which were extremely difficult to find—and the children were all made to go to school. We had to learn Spanish on our own and very quickly. To this day I don't speak it perfectly; I never had a proper tutor. I did take the class in high school here, so my command of the language is better now."

"I see," Roarke said. "Go on, please."

"We had been so isolated in the jungle that relocation to the outside world had the same effect on us that the original Spanish conquistadors had on my people several centuries ago. Most of the villagers eventually died of various ordinary illnesses. My parents saw what was happening and decided the only thing to do was get out; so we made the trip to the American border and slipped across it near Mexicali. We eventually settled in its sister city, Calexico in California.

"But even there my parents didn't feel we were safe, and that's when they sent their appeal here to Fantasy Island to be considered for immigrant status. I was almost twelve when we arrived here. I found that once again, I had to learn a new language, and it was even more difficult for me than Spanish. I was terrified of more of the teasing I remembered from school in Mérida and again in Calexico."

Roarke had leaned forward across the desk and was staring at her in amazement. "I remember your parents' petition," he said, "but I had no idea you had made such an arduous journey! You traveled nearly two thousand miles just to reach the United States!"

Tabitha nodded. "It took us six months to make it, and we were malnourished and seriously underweight by the time we got to Calexico. We stayed there for only another three months or so—your approval of our petition was very quick, Mr. Roarke. But we were there long enough that I did make one friend…and he is the reason for my fantasy." She offered Roarke the little paper in her hand, which turned out to be a small school photograph. "This is the best friend I ever had—Fernando Ordoñez."

The picture was of a smiling dark-haired Hispanic boy around eleven or twelve years old. Roarke studied it thoughtfully and then handed it to Leslie for perusal. "I understand you wish to find him again?" he prompted.

Tabitha nodded, reddening again. "He helped me to learn a little English, but since he could speak Spanish, we usually communicated in that, even though my Spanish was rather broken. When we had been in Calexico about two months, Fernando's father was suddenly transferred to Texas, and they moved away. It happened so quickly that we never even had time to promise to write. Ever since then, I've wondered what happened to him."

Roarke nodded; Leslie looked up then, handing the picture back to Tabitha. "He looks like he must have been a very good person," she said, "someone who made you feel welcome and a little less out of place."

"He did," Tabitha said, "and he was the only one who extended that courtesy. I suppose that's why I remembered it when you did what you did for me."

"How did you know I was responsible?" Leslie asked.

Tabitha grinned, enhancing an already attractive face. "Michiko told me," she said. "When I asked her to thank Myeko for me, she said, 'You shouldn't actually thank Myeko. It wasn't her idea—it was Leslie Hamilton's. I'll tell her for you.' Of course, I knew who you were, and I was even more stunned after that. Maybe that's why I didn't have the courage to talk to you."

Leslie went red again too. "Gosh, am I that unapproachable?" she kidded, and they all laughed. "I'm just glad I was able to make someone happy. Listen…it's my understanding that your friend Fernando is here on the island."

Tabitha sat straight up in her chair, her face lighting up. "He is?"

"He certainly is," Roarke said, "but I should caution you that he may not be the same person you remember. It has been some fifteen years or more, and people change a great deal in that time. Furthermore, he does not realize that you are responsible for bringing him here; he believes he won a random contest. I am told that he tends to spend a great deal of time at the swimming pool, especially during its busiest hours; so you may prefer to look for him there just after lunch." He produced another photo from a desk drawer and handed it across the desk to Tabitha. "This is what he looks like now."

Tabitha studied the picture curiously. The present-day Fernando bore only superficial resemblance to the boy in the original picture; he was quite good-looking, but his smile seemed reserved, even somewhat reluctant. She looked up and asked, "Mr. Roarke, do you think he looks…troubled, somehow?"

Roarke regarded her, impressed with her powers of observation. "That was my opinion, yes," he said. "However, there is no way of determining the origin of that troubled mien, unless you are able to speak with him."

Tabitha looked nervous for the first time. "I just hope we can renew our friendship. I'd hate to think that something happened to him that would make him feel he couldn't trust me just to be his friend when he needs one."

"Well, you don't know till you try," Leslie told her. "Something tells me if you see him and you don't speak to him because you're not sure how you'll be received, you'll wind up regretting it later."

Tabitha considered this and nodded slowly. "I think you're right." She composed herself and focused on Roarke with a game smile. "I truly appreciate all the trouble you've gone to for me in locating Fernando, Mr. Roarke."

Roarke smiled back. "You are very welcome, Miss Zuma. Since there is some time yet before lunch, you might want to take the opportunity to relax and enjoy the amenities before you go to meet him."

Tabitha dipped her head once in acknowledgment. "Thank you again, Mr. Roarke. Uh…I wonder if I could 'borrow' Leslie for a little while? I'd like to talk with her."

"I believe she can spare an hour or so," Roarke said indulgently. "But I will need you back here to make a quick check on the Aristides fantasy, Leslie, so try to be back here sometime between eleven-thirty and noon."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Leslie said. "See you then." She arose with Tabitha, and the two young women strolled onto the veranda before Tabitha spoke again.

"It took me a long time to find the courage to go through with this fantasy," she admitted. "And then I had to wait another six months because I needed to save the money for it. I wanted there to be enough to help fund a search for Fernando if necessary."

Leslie smiled. "You didn't have to do that. Kids occasionally request fantasies and send what seems to them like enormous sums, and Father is as likely to grant, or reject, those as he is people who cough up a year's salary for the privilege. I can remember at least one little girl who paid seven dollars for her fantasy, and he granted it…it was for a good reason, of course. They nearly always are."

"What a business you have a hand in," Tabitha remarked, giggling faintly. "I envied you from a distance, you know. It sounded as if you had access to all sorts of wonderful, fascinating things the rest of us could only speculate about."

"I guess so," said Leslie reflectively. "It's a great life, I must say. You wouldn't believe how many guests we've had who wish out loud that they could live here."

"I'm sure of that," Tabitha agreed. "I came to understand very early on that I was lucky to be a resident. If I remember right, we were accepted on the basis of our being members of a slowly-dying race. As I said, there aren't many pure-blooded Aztecs anymore. I think Mr. Roarke might have been hoping he could help to preserve some of our culture. I know I've done my best to do that. My first language is still Náhuatl—it always has been."

"How interesting," commented Leslie with enthusiasm. "Do you get many chances to speak it?"

"I see my parents frequently," Tabitha said, "and we always use it then, as long as it's only the three of us. I'm an only child, so I try to visit them at least every week." She sighed. "I suppose that to you, my life is very quiet and ordinary. But I'm still not sure of myself, and even taking this step…I'm quaking inside. And I'm terrified of how Fernando will react to me—if he even remembers me at all."

"Do you want me to go with you when you see him the first time?" Leslie asked.

Tabitha thought about it. "I think maybe I should do it alone," she finally said with clear reluctance. "I need to stop being afraid of everything." She looked up at Leslie. "I do thank you for the offer…but I guess I should just jump in with both feet and hope I don't sink like a boulder."

Leslie grinned sympathetically. "I can just imagine. Well, if you need anything, we're never far away. Like Father said, just enjoy yourself, and try not to dwell on seeing Fernando for the first time in years. After all, you don't know how it'll go, so be optimistic."

"I'll try." Tabitha smiled slightly, but Leslie could see the worry lurking in her big dark eyes. "I'll really try. Thank you, Leslie." She started away down the veranda, and Leslie watched her go, wishing she and Tabitha had managed to connect at that party. Maybe she'll be willing to stay in touch when her fantasy's over…whatever its outcome is.