§ § § -- December 1, 1995

"Well, Clark was supposed to come over if he had the time," Myeko was saying over a cup of coffee, "but he's always working. I suppose that's the hazard of being sheriff on a weekend when twenty thousand Americans are swamping the island."

Leslie giggled. "Maybe only twenty dozen, but it sure seems like twenty thousand. In actual fact, for the most part things've been pretty quiet. Father and I debated having some Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday evening, but all those Americans cleaned out every scrap of turkey in every dining establishment on the island. We wound up settling for ham." She glanced at Sayuri. "What time do you have to be on the plane to Hilo? We'll take you over. I'm pretty much at loose ends till about four, when Father'll be ending the fantasies."

Sayuri looked up. "If I'm going to have enough time to settle in and get some decent sleep before my first class tomorrow morning, I'll have to leave by three at the latest. I just hope that crazy guy we saw in the café doesn't get wind of when I'm leaving and show up at the plane dock begging me for my address so he can write."

"Oh, come on," Myeko teased. "Give the kid a break, sis. He looked like he was truly nuts over you. Are you still claiming to be too busy for romance?"

"I'm never too busy for romance," Sayuri shot back, "but not with him. He's a one-night-stand type, and I do have standards."

"How could you tell?" Myeko bantered. "He might've been Mr. Right in disguise."

Sayuri gave her an incredulous glare. "Oh, puh-leeeeeeze!"

Leslie laughed. "Give her some credit for intelligence, Myeko. Sayuri's right; Sean Howard is one of those love-'em-and-leave-'em types. They're all just college kids…which makes me wonder why on earth that other kid, the biker type, seemed so interested in me."

Myeko smirked. "Flatter yourself a little, Leslie, and try considering the idea that the guy's taste in women has improved immensely with his interest in you."

"You're insane," Leslie told her and exploded with merriment. "If that's true, then I hate to think what sort of girl he normally hangs out with. He's way too young and wild for me, and I think he's vaguely psychotic in some strange way too." Something buzzed in front of her face and she ducked back in surprise. "Whoa! What was that?"

Myeko's eyes rounded with horror. "How'd that fly get in here? Those dirty things! Where's my flyswatter?" She scrambled out of her seat and began checking in one kitchen cabinet after another.

"It's only a fly," Sayuri said with amused surprise. "Why the panic?"

"They're filthy, Sayuri!" Myeko exclaimed, her tone one of astonishment that Sayuri even had to ask. "They walk around on dog doo, don't you know that? Do you think I want one of those nasty things in the same house with my kids?" She slammed the last cabinet door and started yanking open drawers in her frantic search. "Alexander!"

Alexander Tokita, now three and a half, trotted in from another room. "What, Mommy?" he asked brightly.

"Where's the flyswatter, son?" Myeko wanted to know.

Alexander shrugged. "I dunno."

Leslie and Sayuri laughed at this predictable answer, and Myeko gave them a dirty look. "Well, go see if you can find it. I don't want Noelle playing with it. It's got fly guts all over it and it'll make her sick."

"Oooo, fly guts?" Alexander asked with interest. "I wanna see the fly guts. I'll go find it, Mommy." Out he went, and Leslie and Sayuri both rocked with laughter.

"Yeah, you two, real funny," Myeko snorted, but despite herself she giggled too. "The things that kid comes out with." The fly zoomed in front of her and she ducked with a loud squeal that prolonged the other girls' laughter. "It's not that funny. Sayuri, help me find the swatter, for crying out loud." Sayuri, still chortling, obligingly got up and joined in the search; after a few more minutes Myeko finally unearthed it atop the refrigerator, just as Alexander came back in with twenty-two-month-old Noelle behind him.

"I didn't find it, Mommy," he reported.

"That's okay, I've got it," Myeko said, stalking the kitchen for the errant insect with the swatter in one upraised hand as though she were preparing to charge into battle on the front lines. "Leslie, Sayuri, there's some newspaper in the living room…why don't you two roll up some and help me kill that fly?"

"Sure," Leslie agreed, trading a mirthful glance with Sayuri, and headed for the other room. Sayuri followed her.

Alexander ran in after them. "Aunt Leslie, Aunt Sayuri! I wanna kill the fly too! Mommy said there'd be fly guts!"

Sayuri nearly choked on a fresh laugh and tried to hide it by kneeling down and rolling up a few newspaper pages. "Here you go. If you see it, smack it good."

"Okay!" Alexander yelled in delight and pounded back to the kitchen.

"Me too, me too!" Noelle cried, and Leslie gave the little girl a rolled-up advertisement to wield. She and Sayuri dared not look at each other for fear of losing control; Myeko's overreaction and Alexander's excitement were hilarious to them. They hastily rolled up sections of the Sunday paper and returned to the kitchen, where the fly continued to elude its pursuers, zipping all over the room and occasionally dive-bombing one or another of them. Whenever it was one of the children, Myeko screeched in panic and lunged in vain after the insect.

In the middle of all this, there was a knock on the door; they almost didn't hear it, what with the children shrieking in manic delight from the chase and Sayuri laughing helplessly. Myeko wouldn't be distracted. "Was that the door? Could someone get it?"

"I'll go," Leslie volunteered, giggling, and went off to the door. To her surprise, on the other side was Roarke, accompanied by Sean Howard, Doug Wilde and Peter Gibbons. "Oh, hi, Father. What's up?"

"We have a somewhat urgent problem…" Roarke began, then interrupted himself, distracted by the noise from the kitchen. "What's going on in there?"

"We've been chasing a fly," said Leslie, grinning. "You know how paranoid Myeko is about flies around the kids. Somehow one got in here and she's on the warpath."

Abject horror transformed the college boys' expressions, and even Roarke looked decidedly alarmed. "Leslie, if you can distract Myeko and get her and the children out of the room, I would greatly appreciate it."

She stared at him in surprise. "Why?"

Roarke beckoned her forward and explained in low, urgent tones. "It would appear, according to our young guests here, that Cody Banning wished he were a fly in order to be witness to your visit with Myeko. Upon making the wish, he vanished, and his companions came to me. It's our belief that we will find Mr. Banning here."

Leslie stared at him. "You're kidding!" She took in the expressions on Peter's, Doug's and Sean's faces and blinked. "My God, you're not." She sucked in a fortifying breath and nodded once as if in confirmation. "Okay, come on." She led the way into the kitchen, where by now Sayuri had given up and was sitting sideways in a chair, roaring with laughter. Sean saw her and stared, all set to say something, but Peter and Doug both poked him sharply.

"Myeko, Myeko, hold it," Leslie exclaimed urgently, trying to calm both her and the children. Myeko, now out of breath, stumbled to a halt and peered at her. "Father's brought some, uh…fly experts with him. They'll take care of the problem. Why don't you take the kids into the living room, and we'll let you know when they're done." She caught Roarke's amused look and squelched another grin.

Myeko, fortunately, was so worked up over the fly that she swallowed Leslie's hastily improvised fib without a peep. "Okay, that works for me. Come on, kids." She shepherded Alexander and Noelle out of the room; Sayuri, just beginning to regain some control over her laughter, gave Leslie a surprised look, and Leslie gestured at her to follow her sister.

Roarke and Leslie waited near the table while Peter, Sean and Doug stood uncertainly in the middle of Myeko's kitchen. "How do we do this?" Doug asked.

"Can't think of any other way," Peter muttered, casting a discomfited look in Roarke's and Leslie's direction. He cleared his throat and said, "Okay, Cody, knock it off and get over here." He lifted a hand and held it over his head, palm up. After about ten seconds or so, they saw a black speck sail through the air in a decidedly drunken-looking manner and make a clumsy landing in Peter's palm. Slowly Peter lowered his hand and then trapped the fly there by placing his other hand palm down over it.

"I got him, Mr. Roarke," Peter said. "Let's go."

"By all means," Roarke agreed with a nod, as if nothing out of the ordinary had been taking place. Leslie still found herself amazed by that selectively nonchalant demeanor of his at times like these. "Leslie, do you wish to remain here?"

"Yeah, I think I'll stay awhile," Leslie said, trying to adopt her father's calm manner.

"Very well," said Roarke. "Thank you for your help…shall we be on our way, gentlemen?" The three boys nodded, looking unusually subdued, and followed Roarke out the door. Leslie watched them go and tried to decide whether to laugh, cry or pretend nothing had happened. In the end she simply rolled her eyes and began trying to work up something plausible to tell Myeko and Sayuri.

Outside, Roarke led the boys and their captive fly along a trail till they were well out of sight of any populated areas; then he faced them and said, "Perhaps you had better release him now, Mr. Gibbons." Sean and Doug looked at each other, then watched Peter cautiously lift his top hand and peer at the motionless insect on his upturned palm. Roarke nodded. "Why don't you place Mr. Banning on that rock there."

"Uh, Mr. Roarke, are you really sure that's Cody? It could be just any old fly," Doug spoke up worriedly while Peter transferred the fly to the rock Roarke had indicated.

Roarke smiled. "No, I believe we have the correct insect," he said. "Since you bring up the question, Mr. Wilde, why don't you do the honors."

Doug looked surprised, then shrugged one shoulder and self-consciously cleared his throat. "Um, uh…I wish that fly would go back to being Cody Banning again."

In a flash, the fly was replaced by Cody Banning, looking distinctly green around the gills, staring at them as if he didn't recognize them or anything around him. "Geez, Cody, you okay?" Sean asked foolishly.

Cody directed a sour glare at him before his eyes bugged out and he pivoted around on his behind on the rock, retching into the weeds. Roarke looked aside, gazing skyward and trying to control a long-suffering look; Cody's three friends looked at one another with "oh, yuck" expressions. It took Cody several minutes to recover.

There was an uneasy silence, broken only by Cody's desperate, heavy breathing; then Peter ventured, "You know, Mr. Roarke, if it's all right with you, this might be a good time to end our fantasy."

Roarke met his gaze with something suspiciously close to relief in his dark eyes. "An excellent idea, Mr. Gibbons," he said. "Gentlemen, do you concur?"

Cody nodded vigorously, one hand over his mouth and the other arm wrapped around his stomach. Doug shrugged amiably; Sean sighed and said reluctantly, "I guess so."

Roarke regarded him curiously. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Howard?"

Sean looked plaintively at him. "I was kinda hoping for just one more wish."

Roarke thought about this for a moment, extracted his gold pocket watch and noted the time, then snapped it shut and replaced it. "Very well, Mr. Howard, ten minutes and one wish. But I caution you very strongly to make that wish with the utmost care."

Sean shot a repulsed glance in Cody's direction and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Roarke. After what he went through, there's no way I'm not thinkin' about it!" He tore off down the path and out of sight.

By the time he reached Myeko's cottage, he found everyone outside; Alexander and Noelle, still wound up from the adventure with the fly, were chasing each other and their aunt Sayuri around the small yard while Leslie and Myeko watched, chatting. Leslie saw Sean first and peered at him curiously. "Something we can help you with?"

"I just wanted to talk to Sayuri a minute," Sean said, his gaze going inexorably to Sayuri, who spotted him, stopped and sagged with exasperation before glaring at him.

"How many times do I have to explain it to you? I'm not interested!" she said hotly.

For all his exasperation at her, Sean had worked out his wish beforehand, and now blurted it out. "Blast it, Sayuri, I wish you'd listen to me and let me tell my side of things!"

Like magic, she paused and eyed him. "All right, I'm listening." Myeko gave Leslie an astonished look; Leslie smiled faintly and let her gaze roam the treetops.

"Sayuri, I'm 21, I'm a senior in college, I'm gonna graduate in about six months, and I know I'm gonna have to grow up. But I needed a reason to do it. And I never had one till I saw you, don't you see? You make me want to be a decent guy, to make a good life for myself and someone special, and find out what it's like to be really in love with someone. Please, Sayuri, I'm not asking for anything except a chance to prove myself to you. All I want is to keep in touch with you, so you can get to know me. Then once you do, if you still think I'm a lowlife, you can tell me to fall off the edge of the earth and I'll do it, no arguments. Okay?"

Myeko smothered a surprised snicker behind her hand and Leslie grinned. Sayuri looked amazed. "You're actually serious, aren't you?"

"Deadly," Sean assured her. "This weekend's been a real eye-opener for me, and I'm never gonna look at things the same way again." He shot Leslie a look that made her grin expand. "You don't even have to give me your address, just take mine and you can decide if you want to write to me or not." He hunched his shoulders like a little boy. "Okay?"

Sayuri seemed enchanted in spite of herself; Leslie could see he'd managed to win her over after all. "Oh…okay. You made a good case for yourself, so I guess it's only fair to give you a chance. But don't forget, you're on a trial basis."

"Gotcha," Sean said, beaming. "I'll make sure you don't regret this. If you decide to write, will you send me your picture? That way I can tack it on the wall and it'll be like you're there, keeping an eye on me so I'll stay in line."

Sayuri chortled loudly. "Can't resist an offer like that. Myeko, do you have any paper and a pen?"

"Yeah, I'll get it," Myeko said, grinning. "Go for it, sis." She vanished inside the house; Sean and Sayuri regarded each other with bashful grins; and Leslie dared let herself hope that at least one of those crazy frat animals had learned something after all.

§ § § -- December 2, 1995

"It was a real experience, Mr. Roarke," Peter Gibbons remarked, pausing with his friends and Kerry Denberg to bid their hosts farewell. "I know one thing, I won't want to repeat it."

"Me either," Doug said, shuddering at some memory and then looking up wistfully. "I just wish I coulda kept that Lamborghini."

"Sorry, your fantasy's over," Leslie bantered lightly and they all laughed. She and Roarke shook hands with Peter, Kerry and Doug, who headed for the dock.

"Are you certain you'll be all right?" Roarke asked of Cody Banning, who still looked noticeably queasy. Cody grimaced slightly.

Sean smirked. "He'll be okay. He just thinks you hurt him and he's feeling sorry for himself. He'll get over it."

"Leslie?" Roarke asked in real surprise. "Why, she wouldn't hurt a fly."

Cody turned quite green and glowered at Roarke. "If you'll excuse my saying it, Mr. Roarke, that's the fattest lie I've ever heard in my life." With that, he lurched toward the dock, both arms wrapped securely around his midsection. Sean snorted cheerfully, said his goodbyes and trotted off after Cody, leaving their hosts trying their best not to laugh.

THE END (till next time!)