Chapter 1: Flotsam
At 7 a.m., a slender young woman in deck shoes walked onto the pier where the yacht waited. She had pale blue eyes, pale blonde hair, a snub nose, and a strong jaw. Fading scars on her wrists were almost hidden by her tan. On her left hand, a plain, narrow gold band caught the rays of the Hawaiian morning's sun. She stood on the pier, basking in the sea breeze.
After a few minutes, a man arrived, carrying a suitcase. He was about the woman's height, but broad and square-built. His blond hair was starting to recede. He wore a Columbia class ring on his right hand, a gold band identical to hers on his left.
The woman hurried to him. "Darling! Oh, isn't this a glorious morning?" She slipped her arms around his waist. He smiled.
"Morning, hon. Lookin' forward to the cruise, I see."
"Oh, yes. Oh, dearest, I do hope you'll like it."
He laughed. "Be way different, that's for sure."
"Oh, that's right - you grew up landlocked, didn't you? You poor baby - you never saw blue water."
The man said, "Well, it's not as if I never saw any in my life. Been in New York a while now, you know."
She smiled. "Yes, but even in New York I never could get you to go sailing with my family, could I?"
"Your father would've made me walk the plank," he muttered.
She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, you mustn't let Father worry you anymore. He's a pragmatist. We've presented him with a fait accompli. He won't be any trouble. He ought to be grateful to you. He wants me to be happy, yes? Well, you've made me happy." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "You practically brought me back from the dead."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, long and slow.
When she was finished, the man turned and took a shaky step toward the boat.
And fell headfirst off the pier.
About 150 miles south and almost 48 hours later, Gilligan emerged from the hut, yawning. The sun was just coming up. Today's first job was to check the lobster traps.
Mary Ann, wearing jeans and a blue checked shirt tied off at the midriff, was seated at the dining table waiting for him. She'd beaten him by a good five minutes. Once Gilligan and the Skipper brought her fresh water and firewood, she could start fixing breakfast. Until then, she'd decided, a walk to the beach and back would be just the thing; this early, the island was as cool as it would be all day.
Mary Ann waved. "Hi, Gilligan," she said. "Going to the lagoon?"
He smiled and nodded. After all this time on the island, he could still be a little tongue-tied with her.
"Mind if I tag along?"
"Sure, come ahead," he said. She got up and fell into step beside him.
"Kind of a nice morning, huh?" she said.
"Sure is."
"Gee, wouldn't it be nice if it could just stay like this all day? Oh, it reminds me of what May was like sometimes back in Kansas. But I guess - "
They stopped. Mary Ann's eyes widened. "Oh, Gilligan, look!"
He'd seen it too. There was a man lying on the wet sand, clutching a life ring. A wave lapped his legs and fell back again.
"Quick! Let's go help him!" The castaways ran to the sodden figure and knelt beside him.
"He's breathing," Gilligan said.
Mary Ann took the man's wrist. Thank Heaven the Professor showed us how to take a pulse. The man had one. "Gosh, he's cold," she said.
She looked at Gilligan. "Should we move him?"
Gilligan said, "I guess we better get him out of the surf, anyway."
Working carefully, the two of them were able to move the stranger, laying him gently in the dry sand a few feet away.
Mary Ann knelt down again next to the man. Gilligan straightened up. "One of us better go get the Skipper and the Professor. Can you keep an eye on him?"
"Sure. Oh, and bring a blanket; he's really cold."
"Okay." And Gilligan was off.
Mary Ann looked at the stranger. He was sturdily built. His light-colored hair was plastered to his skull. He wore a collared, open-necked pullover, similar to Gilligan's but blue with short sleeves. He wore khakis and boating shoes. All of it was saturated with seawater.
Mary Ann wished she had a handkerchief, or better yet a beach towel. For the thousandth time since she'd been here, she thought: Well, I'll just have to make do, then. She undid the knot in her shirt and used her shirttail to mop seawater from the man's face. Her brows contracted. Funny, she thought. He looks familiar somehow. Almost like somebody I know. But that's silly.