§ § § -- October 28, 2001
Leslie rolled over in bed and blinked awake, wondering why it seemed so bright in the room. She looked at the clock and then squinted in disbelief; it was blinking, and the readout said 7:04. She sat up in bed and shook her head curiously.
Roarke appeared in the doorway. "Good, you're awake," he said. "Did Christian call last night?"
Leslie shook her head. "No, I guess he didn't get the chance. The power must have blinked or something last night."
Roarke noticed her clock and nodded. "So it would appear. I myself overslept a bit. It's actually nearly eight-thirty—if you hurry, we should have just enough time for breakfast before we must get on with the day's business. I must make an early check on the Windom fantasy, but before anything else I need to double-check the lock on the time-travel room." He sighed gently. "Perhaps we depend a trifle too much on electricity."
"Gosh, Father, you sound so old-fashioned," Leslie teased him.
"Do I indeed?" retorted Roarke with an amused glint in his dark eyes. "You'd better hurry, child." He smiled at her and left.
Leslie used her watch to reset her clock, then swiftly dressed and made the bed before hurrying downstairs. Mariki was already putting out breakfast and looking harried. "I was late," she said, huffing slightly. "My clock was completely off, Mr. Roarke…I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Leslie broke in, taking her chair. "The power must have gone off last night; we had to reset clocks here too. What's for breakfast?"
"French toast, scrambled eggs, sliced ham and mango slices," Mariki told her, "and you'd better have a nice big glass of that orange juice and some of all those items, Miss Leslie. Where's Prince Christian?"
"Mariki, he hasn't been a prince for almost three months now," Leslie reminded her. Christian's title had been officially revoked as of August 1, and he had been more surprised than anyone else to find out how hard it was for him to adjust to being just Christian Enstad. But he wasn't the only one having trouble, intentional or not: Mariki continued to refer to him as "Prince Christian", and Julianne and Jonathan still called him "Boss Prince". Those who had anything more than a nodding acquaintance with Christian and Leslie, except for their friends, usually forgot and addressed him as "Your Highness"—and Christian himself tended to forget and thus failed to correct them. Roarke had told him to give it plenty of time, saying he'd been a prince for forty-three years and a commoner for only these few short months; thus it was to be expected that the readjustment would be major.
"I can't call him Christian," Mariki told Leslie. "You're Miss Leslie, your father is Mr. Roarke, and your husband is Prince Christian. What should I call him?"
"Mr. Enstad would do," Leslie said.
Mariki snorted. " 'Mr. Enstad' doesn't fit him," she said. "As far as I'm concerned, Prince Christian he is and Prince Christian he remains. Where is he, anyway?"
"Probably having breakfast at home, the way he usually does on Sunday mornings," Leslie said. "If you're looking to feed him, then put the leftovers in containers and I'll give it to him next time I see him." Mariki snorted and left the veranda. Grinning, Leslie loaded her plate and filled her juice glass, then looked up at Roarke. "Was the lock okay?"
Roarke frowned. "I had to call the locksmith who installed it," he said. "I am told he should be out here by noon at the latest. It's quite fortunate that the Karadimas fantasy is not scheduled to end for another week, or we should be in quite deep trouble." He frowned, thinking. "Once he has reset it, though, I really should make a check on that fantasy. They are supposed to be in Tenochtitlán today, and I want to be certain things are going as they should be."
After breakfast Roarke left to check the Windom fantasy, and Leslie went in to look at phone messages and e-mail. She was quite surprised to find none of the latter; in fact, she couldn't access either her own account or the business one that both she and Roarke had the password to, and frowned in concern. On a hunch, she took a look at the website and was dismayed to find that she could bring up only the main page. The sub-pages were all down. "What on earth…?" she mumbled, then grinned to herself. "On the other hand, what a great excuse for Christian to be here awhile." She hopped out of the chair and went to the phone, hitting 464, the number to his office.
"Enstad Computer Services, Julianne speaking," came the answer after the first ring.
"Hi, Julianne, it's Leslie. Is Christian around? The island website's gone haywire, and I was hoping he could come over and fix it," Leslie said.
"Oh wow, Miss Leslie, no…Boss Prince isn't here." Julianne giggled. "But when he gets back, I'll tell him you called. That's one problem I bet he won't mind fixing."
"Brat," said Leslie good-naturedly. "Maybe I'll just get him on his cell."
"No, don't bother," Julianne said. "He left it here—took off in such a hurry that he must've forgotten it. Probably gonna be another hectic day here at the old salt mine."
Leslie sighed softly. "Oh," she said. "Well, okay, thanks, Julianne." She hung up and made a face, taking Roarke's chair. Poor Christian, she thought. Wonder if we'll see him today, any more than we did yesterday? They were going to have one very well-deserved weekend… She smiled with anticipation and started going through the phone messages.
The locksmith appeared just before eleven, about ten minutes after Roarke himself returned, and examined the lock, then reset it and departed. Roarke then went in to monitor the Karadimas fantasy, and when he came back after a good three hours, Leslie looked up from the stack of mail she was processing. "Good grief, you were gone forever," she said. "I hope nothing major was going on."
"Of course something major was going on," Roarke said, amused. "Mrs. Karadimas narrowly escaped being the object of a routine human sacrifice to an Aztec god, and I had to make my presence known briefly in order to calm her hysteria. I believe they'll be sampling the next culture on their list after all—that being aboriginal Australia." On Leslie's chuckle, he came around to the desk and frowned in puzzlement. "No electronic mail?"
"Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you," said Leslie and explained the problem with the website. "I called Christian's office, but he wasn't there…I guess he's having another crazy day. At least that's what Julianne suggested."
"I see," Roarke said. "Well, we got along for years without the site; I think we can manage to muddle through one day. I have an unusually large number of rounds to make, and if you would kindly take on a few of the routine ones for me, we may actually manage to get back here for a quiet dinner." She laughed, and they left the house in separate vehicles. Driving through Amberville, Leslie caved in to the temptation to drop in at Christian's office, only to find that he was still out.
It was Mateo's day off; but Julianne and Jonathan and Anton were all there. Jonathan gave Leslie a saucy look. "Missing Boss Prince, huh?" he said.
Leslie shot him a look of exaggerated threat and retorted, "Don't you have some numbers to crunch, bigmouth?" Jonathan smirked and went back to work, and Leslie, grinning, gave a little sigh and decided she might leave Christian a note. She settled at his desk and picked up a note pad that lay there, then paused to take a look. Rarely was she in this office at all, and she'd never been here when Christian wasn't; so she couldn't resist examining his desk. It was tidy and organized, with a day planner lying open to the current date and a chipped old coffee mug full of pens, pencils, a letter opener and a pair of scissors. A small ceramic ashtray containing loose change sat beside the base of the monitor, and there was a 5"x7" copy of their formal wedding portrait in a silver frame, in a spot where Christian could easily see it from his chair. Leslie grinned at that, noting at the same time that the frame was starting to tarnish. An impish look came over her and she turned to her note, jotting: Hi, my love, I hope you're not too worn out! That picture frame needs some polish, but you have very good taste in portraits…ha ha. Please come and join Father and me for supper. I love you! Love, Leslie. She dropped the pen back into the mug, left the note pad where he couldn't possibly miss it, then arose and pushed the chair back under the desk.
"Should I tell Boss Prince you were here?" Julianne asked.
Leslie grinned. "No, no need, I left him a note. Let it be a surprise. I just thought I'd see if he was around. Well, I'm off…have a good day, all." She departed with a sense of disappointment in her, wondering what on earth had Christian running around like this.
A little before six, she returned to the main house, her mind still on the last errand she had run, and parked the car beside the fountain just as Roarke pulled up in the jeep. "You look concerned, Leslie," he said, meeting her at the steps. "What happened?"
"I think the pineapple plantation lost power too," she remarked. "They said an entire freezer of food had thawed out, and they had to cook it all today before it went bad. They also said something about feeling sorry for Christian…but they didn't explain why."
Roarke raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps Christian can explain that. Ah, perfect timing; there's Mariki now with the cart."
"Great, I'm famished," said Leslie. "If she nags me tonight, I'm going to show up here tomorrow morning in a fat suit and really scare the heck out of her." Roarke laughed.
To Leslie's delight, Christian caught up with them just as she and Roarke were sitting down at the table, crossing the porch at a half run and greeting them apologetically. "I didn't mean to be late; it's been quite a hectic day. Leslie, my Rose, that note you left me made it all worth it." He kissed her, then sat down himself and focused on his father-in-law. "Mr. Roarke, are you aware of any electrical problems on the island? Six websites had large glitches, and I was all over this end of the island all day fixing them."
"Oh, that's why you were out when I called," Leslie said, startled. "It happened here too—most of the site is down. And I just remembered, I had to reset my clock when I got up this morning. The power must have gone out last night."
"That didn't happen at home," remarked Christian in surprise. He gave Leslie an astonished look. "Most of the website is down?"
She nodded. "I can't figure out why. Only the main page would come up when I got on line and tried to get in."
"Herregud," Christian groaned. "It must be the island server causing all these problems. I'll look at your computer after we've eaten."
"Perhaps the electrical utility experienced trouble," Roarke mused. "They suggested hosting the server for the island, and it seemed a convenient arrangement at the time. Were there any calls from guests, Leslie?"
"Two or three. Apparently it didn't affect the Karadimas fantasy, or you'd have said something when you got back," Leslie said.
"That," said Roarke with a mildly pointed look at her, "is due to lack of electricity in those eras, my dear Leslie."
Leslie sighed tolerantly and said, "I don't mean the fantasy itself, Father…I mean the time-travel room. Ever since you had that fancy electronic lock installed on the door…"
Christian watched their byplay with enormous interest. "When did that happen?" he asked curiously.
"Late in August, when a guest's seven-year-old child took it upon himself to explore that room," Roarke said darkly. "Unfortunately, at the time it was still active."
Laughing, Christian murmured something in jordiska and focused on Leslie. "It seems we all had an unusual day, my Rose." She grinned.
Roarke eyed them. "If you two are in agreement about this, it's going to become even more unusual." At the Enstads' quizzical looks, he smiled. "I have roles for both of you in this fantasy, if you can arrange to take Wednesday off work, Christian."
Leslie laughed. "Uh-oh. Wednesday's Halloween."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Christian asked, puzzled. "And just what is it about Halloween that excites everyone so much? Julianne and Jonathan won't stop talking about it, and I'm quite in the dark, particularly since you described it to me as a children's holiday."
"Oh, then it's perfect timing," Leslie said, sharing a grin with Roarke. "You get to dress up for Halloween after all." She laughed at Christian's impatient grunt. "How far back are we going, Father?"
"Quite the distance," Roarke said, his dark eyes twinkling. "Christian, how much do you know about the origins of your native country?"
Christian slowly sat back in his chair, eyeing Roarke a little warily. "Essentially what any jordisk child learns in school. Frankly, I think it's more of a legend than a factual report. Why do you ask?"
"Because," Roarke replied serenely, "you and Leslie will have the chance to find out firsthand exactly how legendary, or factual, that history may be. I am asking you both to make a trip back in time, in the event our guests run into any difficulties. You will be in disguise, of course, and there will be a set of guidelines to follow should you…you're not ill, are you, Christian?" His son-in-law was sitting deadly still, gaping at Roarke with eyes bigger than the plates.
Leslie burst out laughing. "The plight of the uninitiated! Christian, my love, this is your chance to make Anna-Laura insanely jealous. Okay, Father, you've got my interest, and obviously Christian's too. What do you have in mind?"
Roarke explained to them, making Christian's speechless amazement merely grow; Leslie listened carefully, trying not to laugh at her husband's shock. When he finished, she nodded. "I think we can handle that…or I can, anyway. I'm not so sure about Christian."
Christian turned his incredulous stare on her. "Am I ever going to get used to all the impossible happenings on this island? Just when I think I've heard the most incredible story of my life, you and Mr. Roarke throw another one at me."
Leslie regarded him with a sympathetic smile. "Believe me, my love, I went through the same phase when I first came to live here. But it didn't take me quite as long as it seems to be taking you. Maybe because I was a lot younger and could still learn to accept these things." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "We've got a couple of days to get you used to this particular idea, anyway. Incidentally…isn't there a full moon on Wednesday?"
"So there is," Roarke said, studying Christian as if waiting for a comment. When he was silent, Roarke raised an eyebrow. "Nothing to say?"
Christian looked wry. "I have a feeling that anything I'd have to say about full moons on Halloween on Fantasy Island would be taken very much the wrong way, and I'd prefer to keep my foot out of my mouth," he said. Roarke and Leslie both laughed.
"Very well, then," Roarke said, "it appears that we have an arrangement."
Christian shrugged and looked at Leslie. "You mentioned making my sister jealous. I don't know if I'll have the opportunity to do that, under the circumstances. She'd never believe me. Undoubtedly she would cite that full moon of yours and suggest I invest in a straitjacket. And the worst of it is, I wouldn't be completely convinced she was wrong."
Leslie giggled. "Well, you're the one who wanted to move here."
Her husband sighed heavily. "So I did. Forgive me, Mr. Roarke, but I'm only a former prince with too pragmatic an outlook on the world. If anyone had told me the day I first set foot here that meeting your daughter would change my entire life, and then explained exactly how, I might have turned around and gone right back to Lilla Jordsö."
"Liar," said Leslie comfortably. He shot her a look and she smirked.
"Actually," Christian admitted, "chances are I would have had to work tomorrow anyhow. I didn't get around to all the calls I received today, including yours, and I think it's better that I handle all the problems as soon as I can. So taking Wednesday shouldn't be any problem, Mr. Roarke."
Roarke nodded. "Perhaps you might prefer to shift your weekend to Wednesday and Thursday, so that you two can take the second day to rest from your little trip." Leslie nodded agreement; Christian blinked.
"I'm going to need to rest?" he said dubiously.
"Are you about to balk, my love?" Leslie asked, seriously now. "Tell us now if you are, so we can make some other arrangements."
"There's no trouble if you prefer not to do it, Christian," Roarke assured him.
Christian sat up. "Oh no, no, you can't get rid of me so easily. You've managed to excite my interest now, and you couldn't pay me to back out. I'm in, whether you want me there or not." He grinned; Roarke and Leslie looked at each other and chuckled.
"Oh, by the way…I was out at the pineapple plantation just before I came back here," Leslie said to her husband, "and after they got done complaining about the power outage and how they had to cook enough food to feed the entire fishing village, they said they felt sorry for you. I couldn't figure out what they meant, and they wouldn't tell me."
Christian stilled, then slowly turned to stare at her. "They felt sorry for me?" She nodded, and he closed his eyes and moaned softly. "Må sanktarna hålla plass till mej. Two entire days of work, lost. That's going to account for Tuesday…"
"What's the matter, my love?" Leslie asked anxiously.
"I had begun building their website," Christian said in an infinitely weary tone. "They insisted on having all the test pages on their own master computer, and I agreed after trying my worst to talk them out of it. This was exactly why I didn't want to accede to that request. If the power went out at the plantation and the server was affected, it probably means that every last byte of the preliminary labor I did has disappeared, and I'll have to go down there and begin again from scratch."
"Oh no," Leslie said in mournful sympathy. "I'm sorry, my love."
"I as well," Roarke said. "But perhaps this will convince them to let you hold the test pages rather than keeping them on their own system."
Christian shook his head. "I'd have wished for a less drastic means of persuasion, but you might be right, Mr. Roarke. An ill wind and so on, right?" He caught Roarke's smile and nod, and gave a faint, reluctant smile of his own. "Perhaps if it's all right with you, I'd be better off staying here tonight. I expect to be here late repairing your site, and I'll be that much closer to work so that in the morning I can go right out and repair the last two calls from today before I get into another argument with the plantation."
"Of course, Christian, you're perfectly welcome to remain," Roarke said warmly. "I'll have Leslie working tomorrow and Tuesday also, so it will fit in nicely with our schedules. Leslie, while he is working on our site, you might want to return home and gather some essentials for him." She nodded.
"After this, my love," she remarked to Christian, "the trip back to Lilla Jordsö's origins is probably going to be a vacation." At last, though reluctantly, Christian let out a laugh and arose long enough to give her a quick kiss.