Roger Is Dreaming Of Jeannie

A "What if...?" Story

Here is how it went in "The Lady in the Bottle," the pilot episode of "I Dream of Jeannie":

CAPTAIN ANTHONY NELSON is being helped into a space suit by...ARMY CAPTAIN ROGER HEALEY, his fellow astronaut...

ROGER: I wish I were making this one instead of you.

TONY: Cheer up. It's your turn next.

So, what would've happened if it HAD been good ol' Roj that time, and NOT Tony Nelson?

Let's find out, shall we?

US ARMY CAPTAIN ROGER HEALEY is being helped into a space suit by...USAF CAPTAIN ANTHONY NELSON, his fellow astronaut...

NELSON: I wish I were making this one instead of you.

HEALEY: Cheer up. It's your turn next.

...Stardust One is launched, but something goes wrong...

Nelson moves to microphone.

NELSON Mission Control to Stardust I. Mission Control to Stardust I. Come in, Captain Healey.

HEALEY'S VOICE Stardust I to Mission Control. Read you loud and clear.

NELSON Roj! The final stage rocket misfired. We're going to have to bring you back. Stand by.

HEALEY'S VOICE I was just getting warmed up!

Captain Healey's capsule had successfully separated from the misfired third-stage rocket, and all he could see, as he descended rapidly, was ocean. Everywhere. Horizon to horizon.

He wasn't plummeting as fast as he COULD, thank goodness, the 'chutes of the capsule had deployed adequately and right on time. He checked the instrument panel to get his relative location, and contacted Mission Control.

"Stardust I to Mission Control, you there, Tony?"

"Mission Control, Nelson here. Where are you, Roj?"

"Still descending. Chute deployed successfully, I'm over ocean. Here're the numbers," and he read off the latitude and longitude from his panel. That would at least give them a starting point. He knew the Seventh Fleet was "near" his expected point of splashdown. "Near" as in "not in Florida."

"Mission Control, at present rate of descent, I estimate I should splashdown in approximately 73 seconds. Confirm."

"Confirmed, Stardust I. Your latitude and longitude have already been sent to the Seventh Fleet. ETA is 23 hours 45 minutes." Tony paused a moment and said quietly, "You should be fine, Roj."

He smiled at the concern in his best friend's voice. "Roger that," he said, knowing it would make Tony smile.
He double-checked his suit straps one last time as the ocean seemed to suddenly rush up to him and he hit the water...hard.

After the initial SMACK against the water and endless bouncing up and down, the capsule finally stilled, bobbing idly with the waves the tremendous impact had caused.

Thank God it wasn't on LAND, he thought, if water was that hard.

He tried to contact Mission Control once more. Static as far as the ear could hear.

At least I got the latitude and longitude off, he thought. He settled back in his seat for a few moments, eyes closed, thankful he was alive. So many things could have gone wrong, and thank God it did not.

Enough thinking about it. He had almost a day in his new watery abode, he might as well move a little. The capsule had calmed down enough for him to open the hatch, and step out on the little "ledge" that ringed his temporary home.

He climbed out, sitting on the ledge, his feet not even near the water. It wasn't until he sat down that he saw the land to his far right, almost hidden by the bulk of the capsule. He hadn't been able to see it from his angle of descent. And it couldn't be more than a hundred yards away!

I came THAT close to splatting on land? He was amazed and sent up another quick "thanks" to Whomever was listening.

He didn't really HAVE to abandon the capsule, but he figured he might as well. He could wait it out in the cramped cabin of the capsule, or relax on the sandy beach. The ships on their way could recover the capsule just fine without him in it.

He got the emergency raft and hit the trigger to fill it up, then tossed what few supplies he would need for the next day or so. He had enough water to last well beyond the ETA of the ships, so he packed along three days' worth, just in case.

After he retrieved his treasures and gently climbed into the little raft, he paddled to the tiny island.

Hours later, reclining against one of the few palm trees on this microscopic mote in the great ocean, watching the sun approach the horizon, he checked his watch. Seventeen hours. Roger sighed.

I wish a book was standard gear for a launch, he thought. It made him think of that old question, If you were stuck on a desert island, what book would you want with you?

That gave him a half hour of entertainment, and the boredom returned.

He got up and began walking the perimeter of this little ball of dirt in the ocean. It didn't take long, and he found a few interesting pieces of debris.

Something green flashed... and did it MOVE?

I sat in the sun too long, he reasoned. He went closer to the green ornate bottle, kneeling down to stare at it. It shifted in the sand again. Healey jumped back and yelped.

The scientist in him got the best of him, and he gingerly picked it up. This thing is OLD, he thought. How long had it been laying on this piece of dirt?

It was amazingly intact for being so old. He thought it was similar to the old glass seaball floats that would wash up onshore in Cocoa Beach, especially after a hurricane. Such treasures were getting more and more rare with the advent of plastic and styrofoam floats, so he thought this unusual bottle would be worth something as well.

He brought it over to his boat and supples, and set it down. As he turned, he could've SWORN he saw it move again!

A crab or something, he thought, although he couldn't think of how it got in there. Regardless, he couldn't leave it trapped in there, and removed the stopper to free it.

Fortunately he was standing above sand, not rock, because what happened next made him drop the bottle and back up in surprise.

A purplish pink cloud of smoke emerged from the bottle, forming into a beautiful blonde woman in a scanty, filmy harem outfit.

She bowed at his feet and said something.

And surprise on surprise, she stood and kissed him.

That's it, I'm dreaming genies now. Beautiful, young blonde genies, but still genies. Sunstroke, that's it.

Eh, I was bored, this should prove entertaining until Dr. Bellows can analyze me.

Her arms around his neck, her lips, sure FELT real! He kissed her back, enjoying the moment, figuring Why not? Fantasy is fantasy, may as well enjoy.

He finally pulled her arms off him, looking into the huge blue eyes. She was both innocent and exotic at the same time and he found her quite captivating.

She said something softly to him, in a puzzling tone (he could tell that, at least, from the pitch in her voice.)

"Do you speak English, miss?" he asked.

She mouthed the words for a moment, concentrating, and said quite clearly, "Yes, Master, if thou will it."

"All right, do you speak MODERN English? You know, from today? Not Chaucer's time?"

She paused a moment again, and said again, "Is this what you meant, Master?"

He smiled. "Yes, that's perfect. And my name is not 'Master,' it's Roger Healey. But seeing as we've already gotten acquainted, you can call me Roger."

"Oh, no, Master, I cannot. That is against the rules."

Of course. Fantasies that argue back.

"So why are you hanging about on this lump of sand?"

She cast her eyes down. "I was sent here for punishment by the Blue Djinn, who did not accept my refusal of his advances. He turned me into a genie and banished me here. Now your wish is my command."

"You're serious? The whole three-wishes thingie?"

She smiled into his green eyes. "Oh no, Master, there is no limit. What you WILL is my command."

He thought about it. He looked at his watch. Hmmm, if we did something, went somewhere, didn't matter, he could have it all done in twelve hours with time to spare.

This was going to be fun.

So off they went. He'd say this, demand that, let's go here, let's go there, and BLINK! it was done. A true whirlwind through the world, and she kept right up with him, laughing with glee at his reactions to some of the outrageous things his mind would think up. Thinking it and doing it were two different things, he was realizing.

Jeannie was enjoying herself as much as her Master! Having been put into her bottle soon after the Blue Djinn condemned her, Roger was the first Master she'd had to serve. She counted her blessings that he was so kind, so playful, not hard and brutal like the Blue Djinn.

Toward the end, checking his watch one last time, he told her to pop them back to their little island.

He collapsed back onto his tree, laughing, pulling her to him. She was such a delight! It hadn't taken long for them to communicate well. She said it was both a gift and a curse for a genie to see his or her Master's will, so he would no sooner will it and she'd know. Like learning how to speak his form of English so handily.

Her instinct, upon emerging from her centuries-long prison, was to obey and serve this man without question. As the hours wore on, she realized that today's modern man was quite different from what she was used to.

She could sense he truly did not want her obeisance, did not want her to call him "Master," especially in light of the nation he lived in. "Master" was something that had gone away in his land many years before, and was not acceptible in polite society.

"Roger will do," he'd insisted. Several times. It finally sank in, and she smiled and said "Yes, Roger."

They lay like that for a few minutes, relaxing after their tour of the globe. He held her head on his shoulder, stroking her soft blonde hair. He looked down at her, and she was looking out to sea, relaxed, ready to start again if he so wished.

"Jeannie, let me think, I..."

"Roger," she interrupted, her instinct still screaming MASTER! "all this was very fun and it pleased me much to give you such joy, but you have yet to ask for what your will truly desires."

"Naw, Jeannie, it's been a blast! I want to..."

"No, Roger," and it almost pained her to say such a word to her Master, but she KNEW what pleased him the most. He did not seem to, however.

"No?" He was surprised; he had yet to hear that word from her mouth.

"THINK, Roger, think what makes YOU truly happy! It's not succulent meals, and opulent palaces, dancing girls at your feet, looking at you adoringly. It's not rings and baubles and Rolls Royces, yachts on the Riviera, is it?"

Another surprise. "It's not?" He was confused.

She pulled back a little so she could see him eye to eye.

"NO, it is not, Roger. Think back, to times you were truly and completely happy, what were you doing? Who were you with?"

That got him. He knew where she was going with this, what she meant.

He answered softly, "To your first question, in a plane, in a space capsule, flying and free. And to your second question, Tony Nelson at my side, or flying alongside me in formation. Launching together under all that power, heading for space."

She smiled, like an old wizened elder to a youngster who'd worked out a problem. He was again amazed by her. So naive and sweet, and so mature and wise.

"Exactly, Roger. What I am trying to make you realize is that you HAVE what your will desires. Your love of flight, of the air, and your an'm'cara, your soul friend, by your side. And yet..." she paused, putting her head back on his shoulder, draping her arm across his chest.

He smiled down at her, "And yet, there is more I desire, isn't there, Jeannie?"

She said, "Yes, a woman who understands you completely, who can find joy in life such as you do. A companion to you, a mother to your children." She looked at him again, so close, the sun making his green eyes sparkle with the humor he always found. "You had other women before, but never on such a deep and personal level, have you not?"

"Yes," he said. He pulled her up, so his mouth could find her own. After they kissed, he said, "Jeannie, I don't know how this is going to turn out, Master to genie, but I want to bring you back with me, to Cocoa Beach. Meet Tony. He's an awesome guy, you'll like him. And I want you to be with me as more than just my genie, if that's something YOU want. I mean, REALLY WANT, not something you feel obliged to do."

She kissed him in return, long and deep, and when they finally parted she said, "Mas-I mean, Roger, all I want right now is to be with you. Let us see how things turn out. I do not plan on leaving you any time soon! You are STUCK with me!"

He laughed joyfully, again pulling her to his shoulder, wrapping his arm around her. This was too much, too good to be true.

His keen eyesight caught the outline of the ships on the horizon, steaming his way. He got the signal flares from the raft and prepared to signal. Won't be long now.

He ultimately ended up in Rammstein, Germany, where he was told to rest and recuperate for three days after the ordeal. He called Tony as soon as he got settled into his room, and Tony said he'd be on the next flight out. Roger couldn't WAIT for Jeannie to meet him!

His beautiful and unusual bottle he'd found on the beach rested in a special blanket in his personal bag, that he kept concealed in his room.

Roger slipped back into his room after a day full of meetings and physicals. They couldn't believe he'd fared so well after the emergency splashdown, and the doctors remarked in his file how resilient Captain Healey was to stressful situations.

He went to Jeannie's bottle and opened it, and she "smoked out" as he called it. He gave her a short but sweet kiss, and pulled back to look at her outfit. This wouldn't do.

"Jeannie, come here, look out there at the street." He said, pointing out the window.

"See the clothes those young ladies are wearing? Why don't you put on something like that?"

She watched the young women on the busy sidewalk, amazed at the variety of clothes they sported. Many of the women were blonde like herself, so she got an idea of what would be complimentary to her.

She blinked, and appeared in a lovely lemon-chiffon sundress with matching white shoes, hat and purse.

"Is this all right, Roger?"

His eyes glowed as he looked her up and down, startled again how amazingly lovely she was. "It's PERFECT, Jeannie!"

A loud knock on the door interrupted further comment. He winked at her as he went to the door. "And not a minute too soon, either!"

He opened the door and there was Tony Nelson.

"ROJ!" He grabbed his best friend into a hug, both thumping the other on the back, overjoyed at seeing one another.

Roger finally broke away and led Tony in. "Tony, I have someone I wanted you to meet. I met her here soon after I arrived. Jeannie, meet my best friend, Tony Nelson..."

Fin.

"anam cara" is the Celtic concept of "soul friend," one who is beyond just a friend, brother or sister. Similar to Kipling's "The Thousandth Man." Look it up.