#117
  • THE INTERVIEW
  • By Jean E. Orcutt

I am No.11, your faithful reporter for our newspaper, the "Tally Ho." I am pleased to provide the following transcript of my recent taped interview with one of the most charming former administrators ever to preside over our fair Village. I trust it will be of great interest to all.

No.2: "Hello, come in, come in. I've been expecting you. I was just enjoying a few moments of reflective meditation before the guests arrive. I trust you've been enjoying yourself at this, the finest holiday resort in the world. Anything, any experience your heart desires. Just name it and it's yours. This place is magical, a vacation paradise."

As I sat across from my host who was immaculately and formally dressed in a white tropical leisure suit, I noted his features. He had retained his dark, exceptionally handsome good looks despite the passing of the years. His deep, expressive blue eyes captivated me-it was a look that held me prisoner while his deep, cultured voice sent chills down my spine. Some things never change.

No.11: "It was good of you to agree to this interview. I'm sure many people will be most interested in your thoughts about your tenure and what you've been doing in the many years since you left that place."

No.2: "Tenure? Place? Oh, you mean 'The Village.' Good heavens-it's been more than thirty years since I've thought about it, about him. Of course you must understand that there are certain aspects about The Village that I cannot discuss. But make no mistake, my tenure as No.2 was one of the most successful of any assigned to run that place. As you may know, those placed in the position of No.2 at that 'holiday resort' were specifically chosen for their leadership talents. The inhabitants of The Village were individuals who possessed certain knowledge that needed either to be extracted or protected from falling into enemy hands.

It was a lovely place with the best accommodations and all the amenities. Not unlike what you see here. Unfortunately, some of our 'residents' failed to appreciate their surroundings and became bent on escape. That was the case with that chap known as No.6. He had not been on board very long before I took charge. No.6 was a handsome, likable fellow with an ironclad will and the power and determination of a raging bull. His behavior was predictable with escape being first and foremost on his mind. My primary task in his case was simply to hold him while at the same time trying to convince him that escape was impossible. They told me not to worry about obtaining a confession as to the reason for his resignation. That would be left to those who would come after me. In short, I was to allow No.6 certain liberties, to help him become more at ease with his surroundings, and to establish routine behavior patterns that would be studied and used later to win his cooperation.

Not being a man fond of violence or the use of brute force, I decided the best plan was to let No.6 'hang himself'. By that I mean I allowed, even wanted him to try to escape. Then I publicly humiliated and thus demoralized him when he failed.which was inevitable. Personally, I was never fond of their security system known as 'Rover'.that ridiculous balloon-sort of contraption that patrolled the Village streets. I will admit that its very presence generally struck fear in the hearts of Village residents because most had experienced a run-in with it at some time or another, including No.6. Many had witnessed at least one fatal Rover attack. But I felt there had to be a better way. That's why I brought in specialists to upgrade and civilize the Village security system.

We simply waited for No.6 to make the first move, then selected one of his confidants as an unknowing participant in our own little surveillance plan. A little hypnosis, a reaction transmitter, and voila-No.6 had his very own security watchdog.working for us. Worked like a charm until the Queen spilled the beans about the locket. No.6 got suspicious, found the reaction transmitter and we were back to square one. He certainly was a challenge!

As luck would have it, No.6 chose one of our other important residents to help with the escape attempt. The Rook had been with us for several years. Once he had possessed the same strong will and determination to escape-had tried unsuccessfully many times before. But Village techniques had eventually broken this once-proud man, reducing him to a fully cooperative model citizen. He still possessed an independent streak, as demonstrated that day on the Human Chessboard. His display of egotism was not out of character, and he was subsequently treated with a routine behavior modification refresher course. It was a simple matter to convince the Rook that No.6 was actually a warder out to entrap him. He willingly told us everything without coercion.

So you see, my tenure was fully successful. I instituted new surveillance techniques that were improved upon by my successors. No.6's ingenious escape attempt ended in utter failure and humiliation. I completed my tour of duty--only the successful ones left The Village alive. Subsequently I was offered my present position. As you see, success does have its rewards!"

No.11: "Tell me, sir, what do they call you, now?"

No.2: "Interesting you should ask." Just then the sound of a distant, tolling bell drifted through the open window on the balmy sea breeze, breaking his train of thought. "Excuse me.it's time. Would you care to join me? Come along."

Together we walked down the sun-washed pebbled pathway towards the azure ocean. From a distance the sound of a small plane's engine could be heard. As the hydroplane came into view, a diminutive little man in the bell tower began to shout frantically, "Da plane, boss, da plane!" The seaplane glided to a perfect stop at the pier and two passengers, a stocky, mustachioed gentleman accompanied by a gaunt, leather-faced lady with short-cropped hair stepped onto the dock. Each wore a yellow and navy blue sash tossed jauntily around their neck, and they both sported a badge with a pennyfarthing bicycle and a number "2" in its center. The balding midget from the bell tower ran up quickly to join us, his black and white umbrella providing a bit of welcome shade.

"Smiles, everyone, smiles," the former No.2 commanded as we approached the visitors. Flashing a tremendous, toothy grin, he turned to the newcomers and said, "I am your host, Mr. Roarke. Welcome to Fantasy Island!"

* * * *

Footnote: "Fantasy Island" was a successful television series that aired in the United States from 1978-1984. It starred Ricardo Montalban as the host of a mysterious tropical island where visitors could experience any fantasy they might desire. A midget (Herve Villechaize) ringing a bell from a tower while shouting "Da plane boss, da plane!" always announced the arrival of a seaplane bringing new guests

"Fantasy Island" had a short-lived revival during the first half of the (U.S.) 1998-99 TV season. This intriguing remake starred Malcolm McDowell as the enigmatic Mr. Roarke and featured story lines that often took a darker, more mysterious, sometimes slightly sinister twist than did the original, light-hearted comedy/drama series. Sadly, the 1998 series failed to gain viewer support and was canceled mid-season.