§ § § -- January 29, 1994
Myeko Sensei Tokita poked her head in the foyer door of the main house and glanced into the study, where both Roarke and Leslie were attending to paperwork. Roarke turned a page in his ledger before looking up and spotting her. "Ah, welcome, Myeko," he said, making Leslie turn in her seat at the computer, where she was preparing a new batch of acceptance and rejection letters to hopeful fantasizers.
"Hi, Myeko, what's up?" she asked with interest.
Myeko let herself in and took the steps with great care; still pregnant and already more than a week overdue, she tottered over to a club chair and lowered herself into it with a groan while Leslie got up and hurried across the room to join her. Myeko gave her friend a tired grin. "Can't wait till this kid gets here," she said through a heavy sigh. "Anyway, I have some news for you. The Fantasy Island Chronicle hired me on as the new columnist for the 'Island Happenings' page, and my first assignment is to interview the members of the first all-female mission to the moon! Isn't that cool?"
"Congratulations, Myeko!" Roarke said warmly.
"That's great!" Leslie agreed. "But how on earth are you going to manage it, in your condition? I mean…you had enough trouble just coming in here and sitting down."
Myeko shrugged. "Well…I don't really know. I can't ride my bike like this, and obviously I can't walk that far."
Leslie glanced at Roarke, then offered with a trace of reluctance, "Do you want me to drive you?" She caught Roarke's faint frown and said, "Well, we did take them to the other side of the island, Father."
"True," Roarke said with a sigh. "But both you and Myeko must realize that you can't continue to be a taxi service until the baby arrives."
"It's just this once," Myeko pleaded. "I'm not even going to bother asking Toki. You know what his reaction was when I told him I was applying for the position." She scowled. "Besides, he's been packing for his move to Hawaii anyway."
Roarke's expression became grave, and Leslie sobered. After Roarke had informed Myeko that both she and Toki needed to come to him in consensus on her request for a divorce, he had hoped that this might settle the issue; as it turned out, Toki had been as willing as Myeko to split up. There had been no choice but for Roarke to prepare the papers and have the pair sign them; the Tokitas had actually been divorced since late November, but Toki had only just found an apartment in Honolulu and was now in the process of moving off-island. "I see the problem," Roarke said, "but I admit to some surprise that the paper hired you, knowing full well you will soon give birth."
Myeko shrugged, trying to affect a careless aura. "Aw, half the island knows about the divorce anyway," she said, pursing her lips and blowing so that she produced a noise akin to a raspberry. "It was pretty obvious I was going to need some source of income, but the paper liked my writing in any case, so they went ahead and hired me on. And I can always take the kids with me when I do interviews, or leave them with my parents."
"Speaking of whom, where's Alexander?" Leslie asked.
"Toki asked me to let him stay with him," Myeko said. "I suppose he wants to get in all the time he can with Alexander before he leaves."
Roarke and Leslie looked at each other again; finally Roarke sighed and gave in. "Very well," he said, "why don't you take Myeko to the training site, Leslie. But please come directly back here. There is a great deal to do, and within the hour it will be time to check up on both fantasies."
"That shouldn't be a problem," Leslie said. "But how'll she get back?"
Myeko grinned wickedly, reminding Leslie of the fun-loving girl she had known since the age of fourteen. "Give me a few minutes with some cute male astronaut and I'll have a ride back in no time flat," she said.
Leslie laughed. "You're a trip, Myeko Sensei. Come on, let's go."
When they reached the warehouse-like building where Leslie and Roarke had dropped off their three guests that morning, Myeko gave her friend an odd look. "This is it?" she asked dubiously.
"Word of honor," Leslie replied, pulling the jeep as close to the door as she could get. "There. Just go up and knock, and tell them I said it's okay to let you have access to the female astronaut team. That should get you in, as long as they have enough time to give you an interview."
"Okay," Myeko agreed.
"You're sure you don't want me to stay and take you back when you're done?"
Myeko shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Leslie. Thanks anyway, but I know you have a lot to do, and I don't want you getting in trouble with Mr. Roarke. Like I said, there's bound to be some good-looking guy hanging around here who might be willing to give me a ride home." She grinned again. "Thanks for bringing me here. Wish me luck."
"You won't need it, but good luck anyway," Leslie said obligingly, returning the grin. "Have fun, and see you later on." She watched Myeko waddle toward the door, then put the jeep in reverse and made her way back down the dusty trail toward the Ring Road.
Myeko was surprised at how quickly she gained access to the moon-mission team and promptly joined them at their lunch table, where they sat eating soup and salad. She stopped and grinned at them. "Hi," she said, "my name's Myeko Sensei, and I'm from the Fantasy Island Chronicle. Do you have time for a quick interview?"
"Hey, that'd be fun," April Metaxas said, lighting up. "Sure, have a seat."
"Need any help?" Laura Anderson asked, watching wide-eyed as Myeko carefully settled herself into the fourth chair. Myeko shook her head.
"Thanks anyway. So…" She dug into her purse and pulled out a note pad and pencil. "Let's see, let me start with your names and ages, if that's okay."
The brunette beamed. "I'm April Metaxas. Let me spell that." She did, while Myeko carefully copied the name down in block letters. "I'm 32."
"I'm Kirsten MacGregor, and I'm going to be 30 in summer," the blonde said, spelling out her full name.
"And I'm Laura Anderson, and I'm 31," the redhead concluded, folding her hands atop the table in front of her. It was then that Myeko noticed she was the only one not eating, and nearly asked about it before clapping her mouth shut. But Laura caught her scrutiny and smiled. "We're supposed to go up in the so-called Vomit Comet after lunch," she said, "and I don't exactly have an iron stomach."
"The Vomit Comet?" Myeko parroted, eyes wide with fascination. "This I gotta hear."
The interview proceeded very smoothly from there, punctuated with the occasional self-deprecating joke and the resulting laughter. When Myeko decided she had enough for a good story, Kirsten leaned over the table and regarded her with some concern. "You look like you could have that baby right this minute," she said, "if you'll excuse my bluntness. Are you feeling okay? You need any help?"
Myeko shrugged. "Just a ride back home," she said.
"Oh, that's easy," April said and stuck her hand in the air, waving it frantically. "Hey, Alan! Alan, c'mere!" They all watched a brawny blond man stride in their direction with a too-eager look on his features. April grinned up at him, a touch too sweetly if Myeko was any judge. "Alan, here's your chance to be a hero. This poor reporter desperately needs a ride back to the other side of the island, and obviously she can't get there under her own steam. Would you be cool and take her home?"
Alan peered at Myeko and almost instantly noticed her extremely advanced pregnancy. Startled, he asked April, "Suppose she goes into labor right there in my car? I wouldn't know what to do."
Myeko gave him a sharp look and quirked her mouth to one side. "Listen, Butterfly, if you're too squeamish, I'll find my own transportation." Kirsten, Laura and April laughed.
Alan turned bright red and scowled. "No, forget it. Come on, my car's this way, but I gotta be back in half an hour." He looked at April with clear annoyance; she simply raised an eyebrow at him, which for some reason compelled him to go so far as to offer Myeko a hand getting back onto her feet. The three friends watched them depart.
"You're really teasing the heck out of poor old Alan," Kirsten said with a grin. "You oughta give him a break, April. He's got the hots for you, and he's just trying to impress you. He's not that bad-looking, either."
April rolled her eyes. "Did you hear that dumb jock? 'Suppose she goes into labor right there in my car?' " She switched from an artificially low voice to a high-pitched squeak. " 'After all, I don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' no babies!' "
Her friends cracked up. "I have to admit he deserved that one," Laura said.
"Yeah, especially after all his stupid remarks about how women really aren't cut out for trips to the moon," Kirsten agreed, going serious and annoyed. "I haven't seen such a blatant male chauvinist pig since Dale Morrison at work found out why we were coming here. Why do men always seem to think they're better than women?"
"I suppose it's because they're bigger than we are," Laura said with a shrug. "As if muscles translated into brains."
"Well, we'll show old Alan Oink-Oink," April said with determination. "And let's face it, the other guys here have been really encouraging. Ignore Alan and focus on the others, and we'll make it. We know we will, because it's our fantasy."
"Right," Kirsten agreed and popped the last bite of salad into her mouth. "Well, Vomit Comet, here we come."
"I wish you'd stop calling it that," Laura said fervently, resting her head in her hands. Kirsten and April, laughing, patted her shoulders in mock sympathy before pulling her out of her chair and towing her along in their wake.
‡ ‡ ‡
Klaus Rosseby had never seen so many unusual plants in his life and was in his element, completely lost in his own little dream world. He was in the midst of jotting down descriptions of one unique specimen after another when he thought he felt someone watching him, and slowly straightened up to find that it was true. A smiling young brunette stood a few feet away from him, looking on as he wrote.
"So you're a plant person," she said in his own Swedish, once she had his attention.
"A botanist," he replied, surprised. "So you are Swedish also?"
"From Lilla Jordsö actually," she said. "I'm here with my father and siblings for a little vacation. It's a lovely island, and I understand it's very mysterious. I can see that it must be true, since there are so many strange plants here."
"They're simply fascinating," Klaus said, with the enthusiasm of one gearing up to talk at length about his favorite subject in all the world. "Some of them seem to warrant their own new botanical classes…maybe even new phyla. For example, there's a plant here with flowers that produce a liquid with a property that…"
The woman cleared her throat and smiled vaguely. "Oh, that sounds very nice," she murmured, and Klaus realized she'd more or less tuned him out. Embarrassed, he fell silent and shrugged.
"It's only that they're so wonderful…" he mumbled.
"I'm sure you find them very interesting," she said. "Perhaps if you were to come to Lilla Jordsö one day, you'd find some unique plants among our flora." Then she seemed to reconsider and placed a finger against her lips, looking pensive. "Or perhaps you shouldn't. We have some dangerous creatures on our island as well, I'm afraid, and if you did come, you might find yourself in a lot of trouble."
Klaus raised his eyebrows, showing merely polite interest. "Oh?"
She nodded and leaned forward as if to share a confidence. "There's a certain family there…they run an inn north of our capital city. They're nearly all female, very lovely people actually, with golden hair and blue eyes and angelic faces. But they have a terrible reputation; you see, they're all witches."
Klaus chuckled loudly. "Oh, now, there's no such thing as a witch, you know."
She made a show of scanning the surrounding vegetation. "You can say that, when you're surrounded by magical plants on an enchanted island? Why don't you speak with Mr. Roarke and have him clarify things for you?" A slightly sinister-looking smile spread slowly across her features. "Better yet, why don't you speak with your fiancée and have her clarify things? After all, she's a member of that family, and she has the very same powers they do. Your precious Frida is a witch, and you should think twice before you marry her. Who knows what she might do to you if you make her angry?"
Klaus stared at her. "Who are you?"
"Just a friend," the woman said, her sinister smile growing mysterious. She patted his arm and began to move along the path, her head turning as her gaze lingered on his. "Someone who cares what happens to ordinary mortals such as you and I." She waited for his response, but he was too astonished to say anything. Finally she shrugged. "Well, you think about it. Enjoy your time with the plants, but if I were you, I'd find your fiancée and ask her some questions." She tossed him one last smile and sauntered away along the path, pausing a few yards from him to ostentatiously sniff a bright-yellow bloom before rounding a bend and disappearing.
Klaus shook his head in disbelief and returned to the plant he had been examining; but to his annoyance, he found himself irrevocably distracted. What if that strange woman was right? He, like anyone else, knew the stories about Fantasy Island; and come to think of it, wasn't he standing in the midst of exotic flora that were known literally nowhere else on the planet? If such plants could exist, then perhaps such people could as well…and as he thought back over her story, he realized that her physical description of the "witch" family fit Frida perfectly. He scowled at himself. But I'm in love with Frida. If I truly love her, I should give her the benefit of the doubt. Yet…how did that woman know who Frida is to begin with? How does she know anything about either of us?
"Enough," he said out loud. It was time to find Frida and see what she had to say.