§ § § -- July 20, 1995
A few moments of black screen came up first, over which was superimposed white block text that simply gave the date the tape had been made—June 28, 1995; then a picture swam into view, showing Tattoo seated comfortably in an easy chair. Leslie recognized the setting as being the family room in Tattoo and Solange's home. Only half realizing it, she caught Roarke's hand and held on as if for dear life.
Tattoo gazed solemnly at them from the television screen; they both noted with a jolt that his hair had gone almost totally gray, even white in some places. He looked older than his true age, and he seemed worn out. They could tell that it was an effort for him to breathe; but when he spoke, his voice still sounded exactly as they remembered it.
"Hi, boss and Leslie. I hope Solange followed my instructions and waited to give you this till just before she took the kids home. I wanted the two of you to see it in private, and together if possible. If there's only one of you here, stop the tape and get the other." Tattoo smirked after a moment. "You're both here now? Good. If you were both here from the start, well, never mind." He grinned outright, unconsciously evoking like responses from Roarke and Leslie. "Aaaahh, I really hate being as serious as this…I just had to have a little humor there. Anyway, I guess I better get down to business." His levity vanished and he cleared his throat, studying his folded hands with their stubby fingers that had all the same allowed him to express his incredible talent on canvas. When he looked up, he seemed tormented. "I thought it was only fair to tell you how I was feeling and to express my gratitude again. I mean, heck, boss…I know I've said 'thank you' before, but it never really seemed like enough. I know I'm dying and there isn't much time left, but I'm going to give it my best shot anyway, so forgive me if this doesn't come out the way I want it to.
"It's just that I spent so much of my adult life on the island. I think I was barely old enough to be legal when I came to Fantasy Island, and you remember what condition I was in then, boss. I was out of money and I'd been rejected everywhere else I went. People laughed in my face, said horrible things to me, made me feel like I was nothing. I was half starved and my clothes were rags, and I was all but ready to kill myself.
"But you saved my life, boss. I guess you didn't really need an assistant back then, but you created the position for me anyway and built that cottage for me so I could have a place of my own. And then the business started catching on and people started getting word of this wonderful island, and one day when I'd been there a few months, you said to me, 'Tattoo, it was a very lucky day for me when you arrived here. You will be an invaluable help to me now that we're becoming so busy.' Can you imagine how great that made me feel, boss? For the first time since I was a child, someone needed me around. I had a place and a purpose, and I felt like life was worth living again. You gave me that, boss, that and so much more over the years. I know, sometimes I acted pretty crazy, especially in those years when my cousin Hugo thought he could help me out with some silly instant-millionaire scheme of his. But he was just trying to make things easier for me. It took me ages to realize that you had already done that. You know something, boss? After I married Solange and came back to Paris, Hugo called me one day and said he was really impressed by Fantasy Island and all the beauty and luxury he saw there when he came for our wedding. He said I should've told him what it was really like there, and he would've known I was doing all right and wouldn't need to worry about me like he did."
Leslie, wide-eyed with discovery at these revelations, glanced at Roarke in wonder and then looked again; tears stood in Roarke's eyes. She squeezed his hand and returned her attention to the television screen just in time for Tattoo to clear his throat, take a deep but labored breath, and then smile a little.
"Well, Leslie, it's your turn, so watch out." He grinned wickedly, and Leslie giggled in spite of herself. "No, actually, it's all good. Well, mostly good…heh heh." Finally he grew serious once more. "I remember so clearly the day you first came to the island. You looked so small and scared coming off the plane. I don't know what it was about you that got to me like that. I mean, I always liked kids, and I was there when the boss raised Cindy…you remember her, right? She actually wasn't there that long, only a couple of years or so. She was almost seventeen when she was orphaned and the boss had her with him the rest of her junior year and her senior year in high school. Then she went off-island to college and that was that.
"But you…for some reason you were different. You were younger, and you'd already seen some tragedy before you lost your family. I think something about you reminded me of me, before I came to the island. You were as lost and scared as I was, and you had this sort of haunted look about you. You were afraid of everything, especially the boss. And I guess I wanted to try to do for you what the boss did for me—make you feel that you had a home and a reason to go on living.
"I'm so glad the boss adopted you and made you his daughter, Leslie, you know that? I used to wonder what was going to happen to him after I left the island. Well, I mean, he did have Jamie Marsh—you know, Helena's son. But he wasn't really the boss's legal heir or anything like that, and besides, I don't think Jamie would've been interested. He had another mission in life. And the boss seemed lost and lonely to me after Helena died. So it was great to hear when he wrote and told me he had made it official and adopted you. You got into the business almost from the start, and even if you kept messing things up all the time in the beginning, you tried your best and you turned out to be a real asset. I feel better about the boss now that you're his assistant, Leslie. I wish you hadn't had to lose your husband for it to happen, but I think some things happen for a reason. Remember when I told you a few years ago that you'd remember Teppo with smiles instead of tears? I hope that's what you're doing, and someday you'll remember me the same way." His features took on a look of mock threat. "You better, Leslie Susan Hamilton, or else I promise you I'm gonna come back and haunt you till you shape up." He grinned as if in response to Leslie's teary laugh.
"Okay, well, I guess that's all. I really wanted to tell you that before it was too late and you never had the chance to know. I'm gonna miss you both, believe me. You'll always be members of my family…always. Thank you both for being part of my life." He smiled and lifted a hand in farewell, and the picture slowly faded to black.
Leslie turned to Roarke, tears streaming down her cheeks again. "I hope he's right. I want to remember him the way he wanted—with more smiles than tears." She stopped and caught her breath, mopping her face with a tissue. "It's just that it's so hard right now."
"I know," Roarke said softly, drawing her in against him and patting her arm as she laid her head on his shoulder. "But time will pass, and the pain will ease, and all the happy memories we have of Tattoo will come to the fore. They will be what we recall whenever someone mentions him." He paused for a moment, thinking back over what he and Leslie had just heard. "Tattoo spoke of all the things we gave him, but perhaps we should focus on what he gave you and me. He enriched both our lives; neither of us would be quite the same had Tattoo not been here."
She nodded slowly. "That's true…and I think he gave more than he received. He left so many memories and legacies, nobody will ever forget him."
"Least of all you and I," Roarke murmured agreement, and let his gaze drift to the ceiling, as if something hovered there that only he could see. Then he smiled.
Episode Credits:
The "invisible man" story came from a previously unposted piece I wrote revolving around a sketch that aired during the March 1, 1980, episode "Nona / One Million B.C.". The memory of Tattoo's attempt to invent rocket fuel was an ongoing gag throughout the episode of May 12, 1979, "Bowling / Command Performance". The recollection of Tattoo's Bing Crosby impersonation goes back to the May 5, 1979, episode "The Comic / The Golden Hour". Finally, Leslie's citation of the fantasy Tattoo requested under an alias refers to the September 21, 1979, episode "Tattoo: the Love God / Magnolia Blossoms".
Thank you, Hervé Villechaize, for giving such vivid and indelible life to the character of Tattoo. This is my tribute to you and the character…may you both rest in peace, knowing you are missed.