Jolly Mon Sing
by: Dusty Patcher  (E-mail to Link64@hiline.net)
(Well, I actually have to credit this story to Jimmy Buffett, because
he wrote\performs the song I'm stealing to write this. I'm a
parrothead (Jimmy Buffett fan), and I thought this song would make a
good Fan Fiction.)


    READER, since I am a Jimmy Buffett fan, (also because I'm kinda
stealing his material) I have incorporated a lot of his music into
this (All songs are Buffett's).
    ONE last thing (then I'll shut up *cheering sound*) This takes
place as a kind of after-story to Kevin Mickel's What's in a Name? and
That's a Wrap. It takes place on Buster and Bab's honeymoon (No, it is
NOT that type of story, pervert!)



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    *Scene*: airport at a tropical island. Palm trees, sunset, you get
the picture. A plane eases onto an old runway by an airport that is
little more than a grass hut with an old prop plane beside it. Two
personages emerge from the plane, one pink, the other blue. (not sad
blue, BLUE blue.)

     Babs looks around thoughtfully, smiles and comments, "pretty isn't
it?"
      Buster, carrying a triple armload of pink luggage (Guess whose)
quipped, "Maybe if I could see it..."
     "What was that?"
     "Nothing."
     They proceed on foot through sandy dirt pathways up to the hotel,
where Buster dumps Bab's luggage onto an unfortunate bellhop. 
     "Would you please take these to our rooms?" he asked, trying not
to allow a malicious grin spread on his face, and feeling in some way
sorry that their room was on the third floor. (No elevators in grass
buildings, remember?)
     "Well, now that that's take care of, wanna hit the beach?" asked
Babs.
     "Why not?"

     Their progress takes them to a little cove, and after a few hours
of swimming, they return to their hotel to change out of their wet
clothing.
     "We won't want to miss dinner," commented Babs, "I haven't eaten
since yesterday?"
     "Why didn't you eat on the plane?" asks Buster, then after a
little thought, answers his on question, remembering the
unidentifiable substance smeared across a greasy plate, and served hot
(with the exception of the still-frosted center) "Yuk."
     "Well, you won't be hungry in a while. I hear they're having a
luau tonight, and we're invited."
     "Any reason?"
     "They don't get many visitors here. We're the first in two years."
     "Well, let's go, then," replies Babs, dragging Buster by the
wrist, "I'm starving"

     When they get to the dining area, (A large clearing) they seat
themselves at a small table close to what appears to be a stage.
Islanders are working to bring a set of steel drums (Y'know those
things that look like oil barrels with the bottom pounded out, and
make a really pretty plunking sound?) up to the side, and a guitar is
placed to the other side of the stage, along with some
islandish-looking drums you pound with your hands. 
     "Looks like there's going to be a concert, Babsie," comments
Buster.
     Overhearing, an islander begins a conversation by informing him,
"the jolly mon is coming tonight."
     "And praytell," asks Babs, trying to keep the dryness from her
voice, "Who is this 'Jolly-mon'?"
     After the moment it took him to realize that people from the USA
might not know who the Jolly Mon was, the islander, feeling compelled
to explain, said "He travels these islands, and he sings for us all.
He is a great man. He once ran across three island just to sing for a
sick little girl."
(By the way, the islanders all have Jamaican accents)
     "When will he get here?" asked Buster.
     "Any hour now."
     "Hour?, " the asked in unison.
     "He runs across the islands to get where he wants to go. Unless
he's had some sort of trouble, he'll get here tonight."
     About a half hour later, another joins them, just as the islander
leaves.
     "Hi," said the young man, with a noticeably American accent.
     "Hi," they said in unison "Buster and Babs Bunny. No rel-," they
broke off, looked at each other a moment, smiled, and then turned to
the newcomer. "Who're you?"
     "My name's James Duffy," said the man of about 20 years. "You're
the visitors' huh?"
     "Yep," answered Buster, and proudly added "And just married!"
     As Babs beamed at him, he furrowed his brow as a thought hit him.
     "Hey, I thought there were no other- uh- outsiders here."
     "I'm not," he replied, "I've been around here for about four years
now, but I AM American."
     After talking a while more, James left them, mumbling something
about having "something to do".  As it turned out, he did.
     As the stage was set up and completed, a few islanders took their
places at the instruments, a steel drum rippling through the crowd, as
the drummer tested the tune of it. All of a sudden, the islanders
quieted down. 
     As a waiter took their now-empty plates, there was a sudden cheer
from the audience, loud enough to knock Buster, who had been reclining
in a non-reclinable chair, over.
     "Sheesh," he commented, dusting himself off, "what's with them?"
     Babs, fascinated, pointed to the stage, where a figure stepped
into the light. It was (as if you didn't already know) James, greeted
by cheers of "It's the Jolly Mon!" and "Sing a song!"
     He was obviously going to comply, as the band began playing the
introduction. He began with a song titled Last Mango in Paris (If
you'd like it, I could probably con my friend into E-Mailing it to
you. Details later). Buster and Babs liked it, and the islanders
obviously agreed, due to the numerous cheers. The followed up with The
City, Lage Nom Ai (one of my favourites), Margaritaville, and (Of
course), Cheeseburger in Paradise. He finished with Don't Chu Know?
Come Monday, and Miss You So Badly. The applause was thunderous.
     After the concert, James walks up to the happy couple, and asks
nonchalantly, "What did you think?" 
     At this point,  the connection between James and the figure on
stage finally hit home, and they could only stammer out words of
appreciation. It was hard to believe that the nondescript figure in
grey and needing the back of his hair trimmed could be the same person
that was on stage a moment ago.
     James laughed, self consciously plucking at the dusty grey T-shirt
he wore. "Well, they're not my songs, I just sing them."
     Recovering her wits enough to make a jab at what appeared to be a
new friend, Babs commented, "It's a pity you couldn't have sung at the
wedding. You could've drowned out some of the others." she winced,
remembering in particular the singing of a certain green duck...
     Immediately picking up on this, James and Buster simultaneously
say "Watch it, pinky!" and all three laughed.
     "Well," began James, uneasily, "I'll let you Guys get back to
your- um- honeymoon, and maybe see you tomorrow. There's a lot of
beautiful places around here, and if you don't make too many jokes
about my singing, I may just show them to you."
     Accepting the offer, Buster and Babs retired for the night.
     
     In the morning they emerge from the hotel to the sound of birds
chirping, and the unmistakable *ping* of steel drums. After a
breakfast of bread, fruit, and (of course carrots, they wait in the
little food court for James to show up. Eventually he arrives from
what appears to have been an hour of running (he must've gotten up at
four thirty), he plunks himself down beside them, crams some fruit and
bread down his throat, and even eats a carrot or two, they are ready.
He excuses himself momentarily, and returns about ten minutes later
from a shower which he was correct in assuming he needed.
     While they hiked past the gorgeous scenery, he was telling them of
the place he had run to this morning.
     "It's on the other side of the island," he went on, "The waterfall
comes from the cliff face, so that when you sit behind it, it looks
like its falling from midair. And you should see the sunrise through
it!" 
     Then a thought strikes him, "Or sunset-- How fast can you run?" 
     "Were rabbits, remember?" they say in unison.
     "Woah! Stereo. Alright, follow me!"
     He sets out at a grueling pace, leaping over roots over three foot
high, and skipping over strategically placed stones in the creeks
without either slowing or losing his balance.
     Buster and Babs gain a newfound respect for James, as they realize
that not only are they having considerably more difficulty, but they
also, as rabbits, have an advantage.
     *Scene shows James running, and the two bunnies trying their best
to keep up while the song Take Another Road plays for this particular
montage'.

     Finally, after what seems like (and actually has been) an hour,
they break out of an area of dense vegetation onto an overlook that
takes the breath away due to the altitude, the sheer drop, and the
suddenness of appearance, as well as a beautiful and unimpeded view of
the entire island. Whistling appreciatively, the two exhausted
rabbits, and still energetic James edged carefully along the path
until it passed behind a rock outcropping into a beautiful little
crevice, and finally, behind James' waterfall.
     Excusing himself, James claimed he wanted to enjoy the view from
the drop off for a while, smiling at them as he left.
     "You'd think *pant* that he'd at least *pant* have the common
decency *pant* to be winded!" commented Buster with a little asperity.
     "Yeah, well-- huh?" she was distracted by a white paper fluttering
by. it read:


_____________________________________________________________________
        |  										          
        |										          
        |  Hey, guys!								          
        |   This is one of my favourite places to get away from it all,
and after two nights        
        |   of parties, you'll probably want some peace and quiet. I
left my camping                 
        |   equipment here in case I needed it, but you're welcome to
use it. If you need        
        |   A guide back to camp, beat the drum that's up a few levels,
and I'll be there in      
        |   a half an hour.        See you later, and enjoy the sunrise.
I'll bring breakfast when  
        |   you send for me.  Congratulations, 					          
        |									                         
        |          									          
        |                                   James


_____________________________________________________________________


     "Well that was certainly nice of him," commented Babs. "Did you
see this?"
     "Lemme see it," he replied. "Yeah, that was nice of him. I'm kind
of partied out. And he's coming all the way back from the village in
the morning to-- Half an hour? It took us a full hour to get here!"
     For a moment they could picture the laughter in Jame's eyes, then
their thoughts turned toward dinner, due to an ominous rumbling which
they take as their stomachs letting them know that they've just spent
a day of hard exercise on only fruit and bread. Luckily, James had
left a fish trap in a nearby stream, and had a bit of ribbon leading
to a grove of fruit trees.
     After their meal, and a suitable time to appreciate that James had
planned this out for them, going so far as to run over fifteen miles
total, they turned to thoughts of their lives together, an spent a
pleasant night in each other's company.

     They woke just in time to see the waterfall turn the sunrise into
a beautiful array of rainbows that filled the cavern in a watersplash
dappling of colour. It was one of those warm kodak moments, as they
stared out at the land that spread before them: a solid canopy of
trees broken only by occasional streams and rivers flowing through it,
and in the horizon, completing the picture, a volcanic mountain,
giving the setting a perfect "islandish" touch.
     They could never make it back alone, so they were forced to call
for James, who made it (Buster checked his watch, a tad envious) in
twenty five minutes, (although out of breath.)
     "How was the *pant* sunrise, guys?" although he already knew what
they would say, so as Babs affirmed pleased awe, James mouthed her
exact words. Buster could not help but burst out laughing at seeing
this quiet young man put one over on Babs (who was normally on the
other end of this type of treatment).

     After apologizing profusely to Babs, he set out a pace that got
them back, two of them winded, to the village in about an hour and a
half.
     An islander ran up to James when he spotted him, and said in a low
tone, "Jolly mon, Capiam says to tell you that you know who is back."
     "Uh oh. Party's over, guys. Have fun, and I'll see you in a while.
Thanks, Nordstrom!"
     "Be careful, James!" the islander called back to him.
     Thoroughly confused, Buster and Babs asked the islander,
Nordstrom, what was going on.
     "I have (remember, because of his accent, Nordstrom wouldn't use
"I've" when speaking English) known James ever since he came here and
his parents were killed."
     Shock started the two into staring, wide eyed after their new
friend in sympathy.
     "It was four years ago," Nordstrom continued, "when his father
brought them here for a 'vacation' that was supposed to keep him away
from someone who was trying to kill him. He worked for the um-- FBI?
Yes, that's it, FBI, and he brought his family here, but the men found
him. We do not know his name, but only James can identify him. He has
killed many, and can only get away with it if James is gone." (notice
the plot visibly thinning) "James would want you to enjoy your
honeymoon, so I suggest you do so. Not much bothers the Jolly Mon! If
you need me, I'll be around."
     "Wait, one question," Babs piped up, "who's Capiam?"
     The islander turned, and replied "He took care of James," before
walking away.

     On their dresses in the hotel they found a note from James
reading:
(If you don't mind, I'm not going to bother to make it look like paper
this time)

	Hi, guys!
	  Sorry about all that's happened. It hasn't been much of a trip for
you guys, and I Apologise for that. Something's come up. You guys just 
enjoy the rest of your vacation, and I'll be back after I get a little matter
cleared up. 
			Best wishes,
				James
	  
 	 P.S. If you need anything, just ask Nordstrom. 

     


     After a moment, Buster speaks. "So we can either do the sensible
thing, and stay out of it like all the people who are involved have
told us, and continue our vacation in a beautiful tropical island, or
we can see what's up. So?" he turns to Babs.
     She walks over to my computer terminal, and, after a moment,
states, "Not much of an ending, guess we'll have to put our vacation
on hold and go save this guy's writing career."
     I responded, "Thanks a lot, guys! Sorry about all this."
     "Don't mention it."

     So, asking directions every few miles, they eventually came to an
old wood and grass thatch house that the islanders said belonged to
Capiam. They knocked tentatively on the door, and an older man, whose
appearance is haggard from unaccustomed seriousness, invites them in,
and sets them at the same table as James, who attempts to rise, were
it not for Capiam's wizened hand on his shoulder.
     "Hey, you guys should be enjoying yourselves. Why aren't you?"
     Babs is about to say something about 'hack writers' when I type
in, "We're your friends, and we're here to help you." 
     She glares at me, then turns her attention back to the story. 
     "But," James protests, "what can you guys do? Why should you even
get involved in something this dangerous? This is a guy who's spent
eight years just to invent a weapon that can kill up to forty people,
and still fit in a travel bag."
     "Sounds like your friendly neighborhood psycho, to me," quipped
Buster, "What do you think we should do, Babsie?"
     She was spinning around, signaling that a change of appearance,
and, quite often, personality, was imminent. She re-appeared, armed to
the teeth, and said in an Austrian accent, "Ve Beet Heez puny weakling
head een."
     "Seriously, guys," interjects James, "knock it off. This is
serious."
     Babs deflated back to normal, and attempted to look contrite, but
failing as her last weapon, a large blade, falls to the floor.
     "Watch it with that knife, Babsie!" Buster warned.
     Unable to remain too glum, James pulled an ornamental machete from
the wall, and in an Australian (Not Austrian, there is a difference)
accent, said, "That's not a knife," enjoying his own impression of
Paul Hogan, he thrust it into the floor beside the knife Babs dropped.
"That's a knife!"
     "*Ahem*," Capiam cleared his throat, "If you are quite finished,
can we get on with this?"
     Suddenly serious, they nodded their heads in unison, giving the
elder man their attention.
     "If we simply report them, they'll get away as always, so we have
to find a way to simply hide James until they are either caught or
leave."
     "I am not going to hide again," protested James, obviously
continuing a debate, left off for a year or more.
     "Yes, you will. I did not say," he held up a finger, "that you had
to like it, but you will do so."
     He said this with such authority that James subsided.
     "and I would appreciate it," he continued, "if you took someone
with you. Maybe your friend Nordstrom..." he mused.
     "We'll go, too!" the rabbits piped up. "It might be nice to get
some more peace and quiet," commented Buster.
     "And see some more of these islands!" added Babs.
     "So it's settled," finished Capiam. "James, these two are guests
on this island, and since you know them the best, you are obligated to
be their tour-guide."
     James said "And to your left is an outnumbered singer," without
any tone of voice.

     The next day, four figures (Nordstrom had joined them) waved
goodbye to Capiam, vowing to report back in a week. After
admonishments to be careful were exchanged, the four headed off at a
run, three of whom were having difficulty keeping up.
     They finally, by use of a sky-bridge someone had built ages ago
between the islands, connecting then about halfway up the volcanic
mountains, they made it to a pretty little clearing where an old trio
of cabins sat, complete with a fire pit, grille, shower building, and
a little spring with a basin built around it.
     "We're here!" called James, waiting about five, six, maybe fifteen
minutes for the others to catch up. "What do you think?"
     "Very *Pant* nice, James." complimented the new couple.
     "Hey James *pant*," accused Nordstrom, "think you could *pant*
slow down a little?"
     "Not a chance," he grinned. "Let's get settled in."
     The rabbits got the large cabin while James and Nordstrom took the
two smaller ones. Nordstrom fishing out a book, and Babs admiring her
ring, after polishing off a bit of dust. 
     All of a sudden, James began to sing Cheeseburger in Paradise
again. An infectios tune, the others could not help but joining in
with "I like mine with lettuce and tomato, Heinz57 and French fried
potatoes, A big kosher pickle and a cold *rootbeer*, good God
almighty, which way do I steer?" (A line from the song, intended more
to be shouted than sang.)
     All laughing, they ended the day with a dinner of fire-cooked fish
(and some conveniently appearing carrots) and retired for the night,
after James had sung Banana Republics, A Priate Looks at 40, Island,
and The Weather is Here, Wish You Were, Beautiful.

     *Cut to a scene of Capiam working at a desk at midnight, and old
clock quietly ticking away. An islander knocks at the door, and Capiam
looks up at him silently, but with a 'yes, what is it?' expression on
his face.
     "The authorities can find nothing. It's been two days now. Do you
think the men have maybe gone?"
     "Don't know. Let's wait just to be on the safe side." Sighing, he
goes bach to work.

     *Cut back to the camp on the little volcanic island where the four
are staying.
     "Looks like its going to rain," commented James. "better get the
fish traps, or we won't have anything to eat."
     Nordstrom calls after, "Wait! it's better if I come too. Be
careful, guys!" he adds as an afterthought before dashing off after
James.
     "Well, Babs, what do you want to do today--" he cut off his
sentence, as he turned and saw Babs, complete with a dredlocks haircut
and an oversized, multicoloured shirt, humming the tune to  Off to See
the Lizard to herself. 
     "Very funny."

     James had reached the fish trap just as the storm broke, pouring
water down in an unmerciful torrent upon the two runners. It did not
help that Nordstrom had to catch his breath before he could move on.
James, who wanted to be back in the cabins, (especially after
lightning bolts began to rain down) decided to get home ASAP. "And
besides," he thought to himself, "Nordstrom knows the way."
     He reached the end of the island bridge, flying down it, and
across to the other side. Just as he was about to head off into the
trees along the path that lead back to the camp, he thought he heard
something. He paused, and attempted to listen over the now-frequent
blasts of thunder. 
     Just as he was about to dismiss it as his imagination, and head
back, he saw a glimmer of light below him, out at the ocean. Then he
heard a faint sound; someone shouting for help. 
     He could have ignored it. Chances of surviving in a voat in a
tropical storm like this were slim to none. The chances of rescuing
someone were even less. The logical thing wouldv'e been to get help,
then come back, which was exactly why he didn't.
     He ran back to the little boat that he used to check the fish
traps, passing a muddy, winded Nordstrom on the way, kept on going,
and finally reached the boat. 
     He paddled out to the area below the island bridge to where he saw
the light, and looked around frantically throught the sheets of rain
to find something. He eventually located another flicker of light, and
made his way toward it, his arms exhausted and feeling almost too
heavy to lIft. He made it finally to the light, and the prow of his
little boat hit the side of what was clearly a larger vessel. 
     He called out, "Here! Over here! Get out if you can!"
     Unfortunately, the men inside were still just fine, as was, upon
closer inspection, their vessel. Emerging from the cabin was a
familiar, albeit older face that James recognized in shock. No one was
in trouble. It was a trap.
 
     As Buster and Babs were settling dow to a nice hot dinner with the
rain pounding outside, making a pleasant drumming sound on the cabins,
a muddy, exhausted figure burst in.
     "Nordstrom!" they said simeltaneously, "What happened to you?"
     "It's *gasp* James!" was all he could get out before motioning
them to follow. 
     They head out the door and race down the mud that remains where
the path used to be. When they reach the bridge, Nordstrom attempts to
explain what he saw, but it takes a few minutes to get an
understandable account from the exhausted and hysterical islander.
     "They just tossed him overboard! No one could swim through that!"
he pointed frantically to the storm swept waves, rolling across the
ocean in the winds of the tropical storm. "We have to help him!"
     "There's no way," replied Buster in the kindest tone possible for
having to shout over the waves, "unless you plan on growing fins." 
     An idea strikes him, and he dashes off. Figuring he's gone mad,
the two rabbits start to follow him, stopping long enough to glare at
my screen and say "Some honeymoon!" (I promised to re-erite a second
one, but it will be someplace restful and quiet, so you guys probably
won't want to read it.)
     Nordstrom finally drops to the ground, only to come up again with
a shell. He puts it to his mouth, and blows a clear note that is heard
far, even over the storm. Turning to the two rabbits, now looking like
twin muddy furballs (furballs, not Furrball), he explains, "Dolphins!
We train them! They can find him!"
     Shaking their heads, they attempt to gently lead him out of the
surf. Just then, Babs shrieks.
     "EWWW! Something just hit my leg!"
     Nordstrom has obviously lost it, because he is jumping up and
down, babbling about dolphins, when a large figure rears up out of the
water, scaring the two rabbits out of their wits. It's a dolphin.
     "Find the Jolly Mon!" cries Nordstrom, pointing out to the waves,
"Bring him here!"

     In the morning, the storm having subsided, Buster and Babs woke to
what was obviously going to turn into sweltering heat as the day
progressed. Nordsrom, quietly staring out to the sea, waits for
anything to show up on the horizon, mumbling to himself, "We trained
them well. They will come back with or without him, Then we will know.
We trained them well."
     Moved by sympathy, Buster and Babs attempt to console him while
they wait.

     *Cut to a scene of the ocean, where a limp James floats, barely
alive. He feels something under his hand. Something smooth, like a--
like a fin! The dolphins! He was barely conscious enough for this
thought to register, let alone carry any significance. But he somehow
managed to force his stiff, tired hand to hold onto the dorsal fin of
the little, light grey dolphin. He was barely aware that the water
under him had turned to gravelly sand, and that the dolphin left him
where he was slowly drying out.
     
     Actually, there were two dolphins who had rescued him. Thae were
too young, and, consequently, had to take turns carrying the weight.
Unfortunately, they had not been throuh complete training, and as a
result, they could only communicate that James was safe, but needed
"land people's" help, now.
     "Wonderful," said Nordstrom, viciously pleasant, then to himself
"It would have to be Dart and Kale that found him. The only ones I
haven't finished training yet."
     "But he's safe!" interjected Babs. "Go get help. We'll find James,
C'mon, blue boy! The sooner this is over, the sooner we can get bach
to our honeymoon!" (one more vicious look at me for good measure
before they head into the cold water)
     Taking Kale and Dart by the dorsal fins, they wave
goodbye-and-good luck to Nordstromand hold on for the ride. Being
rabbits, the dolphins could carry them without much trouble (as
rabbits are considerably lighter than 130 pounds of dead weight [the
term dead used loosely]).
     After two hours of riding the dolphins, (although a lot of fun),
it was determined that it was unproductive, and asking for "James" did
not seem to merit any reaction
     "Okay, Buster," admits Babs, "we aren't getting anywhere. Let's
head in."
     "Sorry, Babsie, but we can't say we didn't try," then, speaking
out to the ocean, he waves and says, "Goodbye, Jolly Mon," using the
islander's name for him.
     The result is a shocking reaction by the two dolphins. They begin
to squeak, and motion back and forth, all but drowning their two
passengers, and head off in what appears to be a determined direction.
After a while though they stop, and begin to play. 
     "This is great," comments Buster, "At this rate, we'll get there
in time to bury him!"
     "Maybe they just get distracted easily," says Babs, thinking out
loud, "Let's try something."
     Then to the dolphins, she says, "Find Jolly Mon!"
     The same response as last time. They kept on going for another
hour or two, reminding the dolphins of their goal every ten to twelve
minutes, until finally they made it to one of the smaller volcanic
islands on the edge of the group, about seven miles from the island
where they had began this whole trip.

     Back at the island, Capiam was very pleased. The authorities had
fished some men out of a sinking ship in the middle of the storm. It
had been the men who had been responsible for the deaths of James'
family. 
     As Nordstrom burst in he smiled with satisfaction, while saying,
"Nordstrom! Good to see you! Get James, and we can put someone away
who deserves it for a very long time."
     Then he saw Nordstrom's face. 
     "What's wrong?"
     "You have a witness to a murder. But James isn't it, not the
witness, anyway."
     Puzzling that out in his head, he had finally come to a
conclusion, and sat down heavily looking up at Nordstrom's pained
face.
     "Y-You mean?"
     "I saw the whole thing. They tossed him overboard in the storm.
Kale and Dart found him, and he's on an island somewhere."
     Hope flared in the old man's eyes, "But then he's alive!"
     "If Buster and Babs can find him in time. Get a search party
going. I'll see what I can do."

     Meanwhile, it wasn't hard to find James, once they had reached the
island, and after the two had forced fruit and water down his throat,
he sat up weakly, and said, "Hi, guys! Sorry 'bout your vacation."
before he managed to fall asleep.
     "Let's get him on to something to help get him out of this sun,"
said Babas as she set to work hauling out two plant stalks, "lay some
branches across these, and cover them with leaves to cushion them."
     "Otherwise," quipped Buster, "He'll get a stick up his--"
     "Buster..." she warned,  "Just get to work."
     After they had gotten the unconscious James into the relative cool
of the shade, they began to search the little island for food. By the
time they had returned, James was recovered enough to be awake and
coherent. He apologised profusely for what was obviously going to be a
honeymoon to remember (though not with what could be termed fond
memories).
     "Don't worry about it," Buster interrupted him before he could
actually begin to berate himself, "It's not like it was your fault. As
a matter of fact, you did the best you could to make sure nothing went
wrong."
     "And," cut in Babs, "you don't need to be worrying about much of
anything at this point. Get some rest, and we'll see you in the
morning."
     "I'm feeling a lot better," James looked up at them from his
pallet, "You guys could enjoy your trip here, as much as possible,
anyway," he amended, "I can take care of myself now."
     "Thoughtful of you," said Buster kindly, "But you're in no shape
to be alone."
     Pulling himself up as much as possible, and attempting to affect
as much health and dignity as was possible for his sore body, James
said half teasingly, "I'll have you know I've taken care of myself for
the past year or more traveling around these islands, and I'm
perfectly capable of doing so now!"
     "The effect of his pose was ruined, however, when he winced, and
sat down to catch his breath. Thay all burst out laughing, and it was
determined that one of them would check on him from time to time, and
the rest of the time they all had privacy, James for recuperation, and
Buster and Babs to try to recover what was left of their shattered
honeymoon.
     After a day on the island, as the sun was about to set, they heard
on the beach a staedily growing clamor, at first dismissing it, then,
as they realized what they were hearing, began to run (or in James'
case, limp) toward the beach. It was the dolphins, and Nordstrom and
Capiam were with them.
     After the primary warm greetings, and cautious back-slapping was
finished, James began to tell his old friends what had happened, and
Buster and Babs decided to leave them alone to catch up on what was
going on. They hiked up a dirt path to the forest which led to a
little island lake, fed by fresh water from a spring of some sort.
     "Anyone for a swim?" asked Buster, although Babs is the only one
there.
     Obviously she agreed, because she has already done that
spin-change thing, and is in a bathing suit in the water, "C'mon in!
The water's fine!"
     He placed his foot gingerly into the edge of the pool and withdrew
it, encased in a block of ice (although how this is possible in a
tropical climate is beyond me) and replied,
     "Ummm, I just remembered I'm allergic to the water."
     "Oh, get in here, you big baby! It's not that cold!"
     She didn't give him the opportunity to decline his own invitation,
but rather grabbed his foot and yanked it out from under him, causing
him to fall into the pool.
     *Fresh Prince of Bel Air impression of charachter Will Smith* "So
ya wants to go ingly, "Well take this!"
     She winds up, and pushes a large spray of water directly at
Buster, who, of course, can't get out of the way, and gets completely
soaked, causing his fur to hang down in limp strands, like a drowned
rat.
     "Looks like you're all wet!" Babs quipped.
     "Also looks like you've run dry on original comments," he
returned, splashing her viciously, but good naturedly.
     In the ensuing water fight, they didn't notice they had acquired
an audience, and when they heard Capiam tentatively clear his throat
behind him, they both stopped, and looked embarassed at their childish
behaviour, their fur turning matching shades of red.
     "Do not stop," said Nordstrom, looking deadly serious, "I have
money on Babs!"
     Capiam snorted, then walked off, Nordstrom trailing after, calling
back, "Almost time to leave!"
     Buster, industriously drying off with a towel, looked sourly over
at Babs, who had done that spinning thing again, was in dry, clean
clothes.
     "You'll have to teach me how you do that someday," he said over
his shoulder.
     "Only if you behave," she quipped back.

     They couldn't take James all the way back to the island, due to
his weakened condition, but about a hundred to a hundred and forty
islanders decided to come to the island he was on at the time, where
he was to rest a day or two before making his return journey in small
twenty mile stages every other day. On the fourth day, (on the second
island) there was another profound shock.
     About midday, a boat pulled into the beach, and two passengers
disembarked. One was a girl of about eighteen, and the other was a man
who looked familiar somehow, but it was a good familiar. (The men who
tried to kill James had earlier, they learned, attempted to jump ship
on the way to the United States. They never made it back. A fitting
end to them, if you ask me). 
     The older man made his way to Buster and Babs, greeting them in a
friendly sort of way, kind of like an old uncle one rarely sees. He
politely asked where he could find a  "Captain Ian Duffy"
     "Sorry," said Buster, "we don't know a Captain Ian."
     "Wait!" exclaimed Babs as the old man prepared to leave, then
turning to Buster, said, "Isn't James' last name Duffy?"
     "Come to think of it, Babsie, it is, but he's too young to be a
captain."
     Turning to the old man, he said, "But if you'd like to see James,
just ask Capiam there to take you to him." he pointed out the old man
chatting amiably to some islanders, Nordstrom hovering close by. As
the old man walked up to Capiam, he squinted at him and asked with
incredulity, "Ian?"
     Startled, Capiam turned to face the old man, and his jaw dropped,
"Marcus?! Is it you?!"
     "Ian, you old goat, how ya been? The years haven been kind to
you!" he said, roughly embracing the old man. Then stepped back, "It's
been a long time."
     "Uh," asked Babs tentatively, "Would someone mind letting us in on
this? What's going on?"
     "That's what I'd like to know."
     James had limped out, looking on the scene with a combination of
warmth, confusion, and humor.
     "James?" asked the older man, with almost proprietary pride, "is
this little James Duffy? Don't you remember me? NO, I guess you
wouldn't, but didn't Ian ever--" he broke off as a thought hit him.
     "You didn't tell him, did you?"
     "I thought it best not to. Guess I was waiting for now."
     James, more than a little confused at his guardian of four years
discussing familiarities with a strange old man, demanded, "Will
someone tell me what is going on?"
     "James," said the old man, fixing his eyes with a serious look,
"you're looking at your uncle. Uncles, actually. I am your father's
brother, Marcus Duffy," then he turned with good humor to Capiam, "And
this wizened old goat is Captain Ian Duffy, the oldest in the family."
     "Don't rub it in, Marc," he said sourly
     "What's with the Capiam thing, anyway?"
     "The islanders couldn't pronounce 'Captain'!"
     As James stared at them, incredulously, the two old men cackled
with laughter. That night, they had explained to him how they had
tried to hide him from his father's enemies, and that was why they'd
dropped the family name.
     "If someone asks, they can pronounce 'Ian Duffy' perfectly well.
That's why I was 'Captain' or more popularly 'Capiam'."

     Buster and Babs watched on as they introduced the young woman, who
turned out to be James' cousin.
     "Heartwarming, isn't it?" she asked, to which Buster placed his
index finger in the back of his throat.
     "Very funny, wiseguy. Well, at least we can finally get back to
our honeymoon!"
     But as he prepared to plant a kiss on her, someone cleared their
throat from the general direction behind them.
     "*Ahem!* sorry to interrupt but--"
     "Who're you?" they asked simeltaneously of the grey clad, brown
haired, unassuming figure.
     "Umm, perhaps you should open this before I tell you," he said,
holding out an envelope. Inside were two first class airline tickets
to the Caribbean islands.
     "Told ya' I'd make up for all of this," said (for all practical
purposes, we'll call me *Dusty, and it's my story, so I can write
myself in if I want to!)
     Torn between appreciation for the tickets, and anger at the one
person who had singlehandedly put them through all of this, they
scuffed their feet, trying to decide what to do. 
     The appreciation won out, because *Dusty was one of those people
who you just can't stay angry with, standing there scuffing one foot
in the dirt.
     "Oh! And I've arranged a surprise for you, on the next stop!"
     "What?" they both asked.
     "If I told you," he began.
     "We know," they interrupted, in a nasal, sing-song pair of voices,
"then it wouldn't be a surprise."

     *Dusty lived up to his word. On the next island, which had been
carefully outfitted with ribbons and crepe paper waited all their
friends, Plucky, Shirly, Fifi, Hamton, Furrball, Calamity, and any
others whose name I may have forgotten, (Although it should be noted
that I left the one girl, what's her name, who kills animals with
'love', behind.")
     "Surprise!"
     "And," *Dusty added, "Since James is feeling better, maybe he can
provide us with a song!"
     Although haggard looking, James appeared to be enjoying himself,
and sang well into the evening. Everything taken care of, James, who
would continue to live in the islands with his newfound family, was
happily taking requests, and frequent breaks to rest, as well as
amiably chat with the islanders and the happy couple. 
     Everyone wishes them well, (and better luck on this vacation) as
James finishes, and agrees to sing Volcano for a little girl, a
mischevious glint coming into both his and *Dusty's eyes.
     "What's up with you two?" asks Capiam (Let's keep it simple by
keeping Capiam as his name).
     "Watch this," they simeltaneously instruct him, as James prepares
to sing the final song. *Dusty leans over and whispers, "We rigged the
mountain with some cheap fireworks. Volcano is the perfect song to
toss a scare into the tiny toons with," (the natives would know an
eruption from cheap pyrotechnics) "And the best part is that that girl
picked it by pure coincidence!" 
     It went spectacularly, aside from having to extract a certain
green duck from under a bench, and prevent Buster and Babs from
reaching *Dusty with a convenient set of fish knives (they were still
a little miffed), and the applause was as thunderous as the simulated
explosion.
     Determined to exit them with a final flourish, (and clear his debt
once and for all) *Dusty whipped out a crossbow pistol and a crossbow
bolt with a thin cable attatched. He fired it at the mast of the ship
waiting to carry off Buster and Babs, secures a cord so as to slide
along the one leading to the boat.
     Carrying Babs in his arms, Buster took the cord from *Dusty and
slid, pirate-fashion down the cord, and onto the ship waiting to take
them to the airport, a chorus of cheers and two plaintive "Sorry 'bout
all this"'s following them, one James', standing next to his pretty
cousin, and one *Dusty's, who still looked remorseful.
     As they reached the deck, they waved goodbye, and vowed to visit
James and the islands again, and to see the rest back home in about
two weeks. The boat (of course) sailed off into the sunset, the sails
visible as silhouettes, perfectly shading the spectacular sunset.
     

The End



No Rights Reserved, Except for all the songs, (which are Jimmy
Buffett's).
I strongly recommend listening to Volcano, Jolly Mon, and all the
others.
If you liked it, thanks!
If you didn't, who cares what you think?

Finally, since I'm sure I broke a few CopyRights, I'm not putting my
name on this thing, so I'm leaving it up to you guys to distribute. 
And if Jimmy Buffett gets ahold of this (Yeah, Right) hope you liked
my lame attempt at a story!!

*And if anyone wants to compliment me, drop by the chatroom
#!!!!tinytoons and start talking about AAJman.TXT, and I'll hear about
it. Big brother is watching you. (Reference to George Orwell's book,
1984, which I've never read, but always meant to. Never mind.)