I do not own the copyrights to Fantasy Island
Mr. Roarke sat sideways behind his desk with crossed legs and his finger tapping the side of his mouth. "You're asking a lot. In fact…" He sat straight up and turned his chair. "…I'm amazed you even dare come back."
"Mr. Roarke..." A tall thin man stood up, rubbed his neck and paced back and forth. "...I had to. I want peace and I can find no other way except to face you and Cassie."
"You know, some people assumed you knew her and came to the island because of it." Mr. Roarke kept a straight face and stood up himself. "Also, more than one person has spread theories about your identity and relation to those involved."
"I know." Sinking down, Roarke's visitor sighed. "I didn't even dare have my name said out loud to the natives upon my arrival for fear of deadly retribution."
"What about me? Weren't you afraid I'd cut you down?" The island's magistrate knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it straight out of the horse's mouth, so to speak.
"If you were going to do that, you'd have done it as soon as I set foot on the island." The man's eyes would have lifted higher than they did, but his conscience kept the lids weighed down. "Besides, I'm too old and too tired to kick up a decent fight. Like I said…I just want to make peace with Cassie, and - if possible- give something back for what I took." He shrugged his shoulders. "If that is even possible."
The island breeze blew softly in from the ocean. Native women let their hair down and giggled as they watched two young siblings, barely able to walk, decide a wrestling game was in order. Personally, I couldn't blame them as I had to choke down a burst of laughter myself. I happened to know those two diapered toddlers' wrestling match would last all of two minutes. After that? The heavier-set one would simply sit on the lighter one, causing his mother to yank him off and haul him off for a nap.
Mr. Roarke must have thought the same thing of the twins, for he simply shook his head and smiled. His smile turned serious when he saw me. His finger bent as if to pull me his way. I didn't question the twitching, I did the straight mouth.
"What's wrong, darling?" I kissed the side of my husband's face. "My cooking make you sick?" I tried to joke, but his hand steering me away from the crowd was the only answer I got.
"There's someone who wants to talk to you." My other half of more than a few centuries talked more softly than normal.
"Who?" My curiosity was definitely raised.
"An old foe…" My eyes must have flown wide open for he hurried on. "…one who wishes to make amends, or at the very least peace with us."
The laughter of the visitors and natives slid out of ear shot the farther we walked. I knew my other half well enough to know he'd already handed out the peace asked for; nonetheless, I was reluctant to meet any foe of the past wanting to meet now. Old memories of more than one flew across my mind; even ones from my college days, through their own strange events, were still alive and kicking. That fact simply reminded me of days I'd rather forget. No, I had no wish to meet with whoever had the gall to show their face, and I resisted going with Roarke to his office.
"Think about it, Cassie." Mr. Roarke's voice was gentle. "All he wants is peace. Trust me, he's right. He's too old and weak to cause any real problems even if he was lying."
"Yeah, sure, he can't." I didn't even know who he was, but that made no difference to how I was feeling.
"You can stay here… for now." Mr. Roarke let go of my arm and left me by my favorite white chair overlooking our newly laid-out garden. "I, for one, am going to go back and talk to our private guest."