The story of Keith
Early in the cruise I posted this about shipmates:
… she carries a doll. Well, more a stuffed animal of indeterminate type. It wears a different outfit to dinner each night and joins them at their table for two. Its name is Keith. Each evening, she stops by our table to recount an adventure Keith has had this day. “Keith would have loved Maui,” she might say, or “Keith has his eye on you two. He always liked the girls.” Her tenses shift from past to present and back again. The big man puts an arm around her and says they must move along. This will happen again tonight. Again, Donna and I will wonder about Keith. And now, you will, too.
It seems I am not the only one intrigued by this, so for all our sakes, I became an investigative reporter.
This is Keith with his people; let’s call them Ken and Barbie (that actually is her name so what the hell). Ken and Barbie have had their heads lopped off to retain a modicum of privacy (so OK, I would never make it as a real reporter, thank you so much for pointing it out).
Keith was the name of Barbie’s beloved cousin who lived with them. He was to join them on the cruise, planned for it and eagerly awaited his chance to see a bit of the world. Instead, the Big Joker gave him a one way ticket on the ferry to hell.
Barbie mourned her cousin, apparently to the point of distraction. She resolved that he would by god join them on the cruise. So she procured this stuffed creature, attached a wig that was dark like Keith’s own hair and sewed little outfits from his actual clothing. Then she equipped the Keith effigy with the real Keith’s personal effects from rings to glasses. Throughout the cruise she talked with and about her doll, taking him to dinner in casual or formal attire as the case may be.
Barbie maintains a cheery, breezy demeanor. You would absolutely believe she is happy, and maybe she is. Whether Keith is real to her or not, this is the best actualized fantasy I have ever known. One her husband supports whether it is a simple memorial or complex delusion.
Eavesdropping and observation are among my favorite pastimes. But in general I prefer to imagine my own back stories than to discover the real truths; maybe I am not so different from Barbie in that way.
My career as investigative reporter is now officially over.