Welcome to Fantasy Island.....or not.

Allow me to tell you my fair readers about one of the most terrifying, traumatizing, and in retrospect HILARIOUS moments of my childhood.

My sister Kristen and I were out visiting my Dad for the weekend, we had friends visiting however Lynn and Jim (the Mom and Dad), Rick and Bruce (their sons) all slept in their camper in the drive way when they would come to visit, just so no one would be put out of their beds. Unless it was winter, and then all bets were off.

Kristen and I had asked our Dad (as part of our usual Saturday evening ritual) if we could watch Love Boat and then Fantasy Island which followed afterward. My Dad agreed, but the boys declined to watch and they went out to the camper. We watched Love Boat and then started to watch Fantasy Island when our Dad informed us that he, Lynn, and Jim were going for a walk to the beach.

Now...let me paint a scene for you. My Dad's house is beach front property in Southwestern Ontario Canada, with a lovely view of Lake Huron. It's relatively secluded in a small cottage community, surrounded by farm land. It's basically the kind of community where an 80's horror flick could have EASILY been filmed. It's awesome. So much so in fact, later on I used to tease a friend of mine when he was stoned about how much my Dad's house looked structurally like the Amityville Horror house and he'd freak. It was awesome. TEE HEE!

Anyway, back to my original ramblings. Don't you hate it when things go off topic? I mean they just talk, talk, talk and then when they TRY to get back on subject they get lost. Where was I? KIDDING!

So, where my Dad's television was in the house was on the lakeside, in a screened in, windows on 3 of the 4 sides porch. It was very windy that night, and I think it may have been late summer, possibly early fall.

Boys out in their camper, Dad, Lynn and Jim off for a walk, Kristen and I watched Love Boat and stared on Fantasy Island. Now, if you'll recall (or if you don't) there was the odd occasion where Fantasy Island could be a little scary. Well that night it had something to do with a demonically possessed ventriloquist dummy. Far fetched? Of course! Terrifying?? YOU BETCHA!!! I don't like those old fashioned wooden dummies to begin with - You'd have NEVER caught me watching Howdy Doodie...screw that crap. Not a chance. I don't mind Muppets, or Jeff Dunham, or even Chuck and Bob from Soap. But get Waylan and Madam the fuck away from me thanks. It just freaks me the hell out. Likely because of what I'm about to tell you, but just in general, they scare me. No. REALLY. SERIOUSLY. That scene in Poltergeist...you know the one with the ventriloquist clown thing? OMFG dude, seriously. No. Just. No.

So I'm about 8 or 9 I think and I'm watching this. At the absolute climax of terror in the episode we hear this scratching. Now keep in mind it's windy, and outside the porch there are these large bushes with branches on them. Kristen says it's the branches in the wind on the glass, we go back to watching. Until suddenly the scratching starts again, both Kristen and I look in the direction of where it's coming from and see this hand clawing down the screen. That's it.....just a hand. And we scream. And I mean full on put Jamie Lee Curtis to shame, full on scream. And we run into the living room (together) where the phone is, heading to call 911, screaming all the way, thinking poor Rick and Bruce have been done in by some homicidal maniac disembodied hand. Kristen runs for the phone and there's this banging on the front door, we scream again and I grab a cast iron fireplace poker and batter up like Babe fuckin Ruth.

At THIS point my Dad starts SCREAMING at the door while he's banging on it, that it's him and to stop screaming, and for the love of GOD DON'T call 911. We open the door, and go from screaming to sobbing wildly. We walk back out to the porch while he reassures us that there is no mass murderer coming to kill us and drag our bleeding bodies to the cornfield up the road.

JUST as he's got us relatively calmed down, Jim comes along and does the EXACT same thing my Dad had just done on the window, sending my sister and I over the edge once more. Dad reassures us that it's JUST Jim and Lynn and to calm down. I don't know if my Dad EVER let us watch Fantasy Island alone ever again.

About 25 years later in a restaurant in western Canada over breakfast that night was brought up with my Dad. He remarked that He, Lynn and Jim had just finished smoking a joint or two on their walk and his plan was to come into the house, lock it up and go drift off into a mellow state of sleep. When we began screaming like lunatics he lost his high pretty quickly apparently. Serves ya right! Dumbass!

One Last Glimpse,

~K