EXCERPT FROM DR. ICCHEE'S JOURNAL
I lay in the dark tent musing about a familiar subject. Whatever happened to Roger "Baby" Jenkins, the man from the trailer park who stole a garbage barge and accidentally discovered this island? No one's heard a peep from him since he jumped bail. What's he afraid of? Is it the law, or is he running from the kind of instant celebrity I've only begun to deal with? Where has he gone and is he short on cash? Why doesn't he make a deal with a national magazine or talk show for his story? What secrets does the impetuous Mr. Jenkins possess? Is he perhaps dead? Or working on a book, in solitude? Maybe he's the type to tell his story his own damn way. Maybe he's living on a book advance.
I clearly don't need to spend any more time thinking about this. But I confess to you, Dear Diary: sometimes Roger Baby is my imaginary boyfriend.
It's easy because I've never seen a photo, so I don't know what he looks like, but this is how I imagine him. Lanky and handsome in a not-so-obvious way. His chiseled features are inexpressive to the point that people often imagine he's passing judgment from some aloof moral height, when really it's just a tic to mask his natural shyness. Teachers didn't see his potential and he didn't have many friends as a kid, so his parents encouraged him to join the Boy Scouts, and because of that he's handy outdoors. In short Roger is chivalrous in understated ways. He flatters me quietly with the appreciation in his eyes and the shared spark of intelligence is always there between us. But can he make a rope from lizard guts if necessary? You bet.
I might have nipped this fantasy in the bud had I seen it coming, but why bother? My imaginary Roger is easy and uncomplicated to be with. His conversational style, now that he's comfortable with me, is witty and playful. But best of all, he knows how to be quiet when that's what I need most. His company is a pleasure when I'm in the field and a comfort at the end of a long day.
Sometimes, it's true, he seems distant, and I wonder if he is fondly reminiscing about some old girlfriend, or longing for the aimlessness of his prior existence. But surely he sees the greater good of his new life serving science and it is enough to make him happy.
And if not, so what? There have been imaginary boyfriends before, and there will be again. I can just dump him or, better yet, morph him bit by bit into some totally new fantasy guy, one who truly appreciates me.
TO SEE A DETAIL OF A PAINTING OF PEDAII ISLAND BASED ON A SKETCH BY DR. ICCHEE, CLICK HERE