Mary Ann had just finished the morning chores. She ran to her hut, reached under her grass mattress and pulled out a notebook and pencil. She carefully tucks it under her arm and looks around to see if anyone is aware of her. No one seemed to be around today. She made an extra special search for Gilligan. He was the last person she wanted following her. Noticing that the coast was clear, she made a beeline down one of the paths that lead to a cave, her special hiding place. Once there, she pushed the notebook and pencil inside the opening and crawled in herself. Pleased that she was alone, she took a cleansing breath and then opened her notebook. She scanned the stories she had written down there. They weren't true stories, they were all make believe, and all her way of relaxing and unwinding. She had one special story that she had been writing for a awhile, her most secret, and daresay, risque story, "The Tale Of Annie and William". She had never written anything like it before. It secretly thrilled her to write something so opposite of the way she acted. She could be a goody two shoes in real life, but it didn't have to show in her writing.
"William, with his ocean blue eyes, penetrated Annie's soul. Her heart pounded like a hammer as William came closer and closer, his breath on her ear," she had written with intensity. She wrote even more, "I need you Annie, William had told her. Your hazel eyes have me locked in your spell. He grabbed her and kissed her fervently and passionately. Annie melts into his arms. William swept her off her feet, and carried her to the nearby cave..." she stopped and thought a moment. "He carried her inside and then..." a huge smile crossed Mary Ann's face, and she wrote as fast as her fantasy allowed her to. She wrote a whole ten pages when she heard a voice calling her.
"Mary Ann, Mary Ann!" It was Gilligan. She had to hide that notebook and quickly. She would die a thousand times over if he ever got ahold of that notebook. She stuck it behind a rock and went out to meet Gilligan.
"Hi Gilligan," Mary Ann said shyly, "how are you doing?"
"Good," Gilligan said, "do you want to go butterfly hunting? There is not much to do today, so I have the whole afternoon," he had said.
"Sure, why not," Mary Ann said.. Gilligan smiled at her with delight. "Come on, let's go get the butterfly nets," he said.
After about an hour of butterfly hunting, Mary Ann told Gilligan it was almost time for lunch and that she had better go. They parted ways and Mary Ann turned around when Gilligan was out of sight and headed back to the cave. She crawled inside to retrieve her notebook, but it wasn't there. She looked under the rock too and all around the area, but it was gone. She knew she had come to the right cave. She could have walked there blind folded.
Where is it? It has to be here! It just has to! If anyone sees that story I'll just die! Mary Ann said through her tears. She finally gave up and went back to camp to help Ginger with lunch. She forced a smile to her face. She had to act as if nothing ever happened.
Gilligan had been walking down by the lagoon, when he noticed his little chimp friend, Gladys swinging from a tree.
"Hi Gladys," Gilligan greeted the primate, who came down from her perch and climbed into Gilligan's lap, "beautiful day, ain't it?"
Gladys made her monkey like squeals, then pushed something into Gilligan's hands. It was a little red notebook.
"A notebook? Where did you get this?" He asked the Chimp, rhetorically of course. "Oh it says stories on the front. I love a good story." Gilligan made himself a little more comfortable by moving from the rock he was on, to sitting on the ground. He opened the notebook and thumbed through the pages.
This is Mary Ann's handwriting. Maybe I shouldn't look at it. He thought. She always tells the best stories though. Surely she wouldn't mind.
Gilligan sat back and read one short story after another. He read one about a pony and a princess, one about a lost knight, a ghost story, and one mystery unfinished that hadn't made it past the first page.
These are really good. I never knew she could tell stories like this. Gilligan thought. He turned the page and another story caught his eye. "The Tale Of Annie and William". As he began to read, he noticed the story sounded very familiar, sort of. William was a world renowned sailor, and Annie was a poor country bumpkin who happened to find William ready to ship off on an important assignment. Annie becomes a stowaway on his boat and a terrible storm arises, causing the two of them to be shipwrecked on a deserted island. They are the only survivors and all they have is each other. Gilligan became eerily aware the way Mary Ann described William sounded like an identical physical description of himself. Annie sounded just like Mary Ann. She even made William Banana Cream Pies, instead of Coconut. He got to the part that Mary Ann had just been writing. It read, "William swept her off her feet and carried her to a nearby cave. He carried her inside and then..." Gilligan's eyes grew wide with shock at what he was reading. It sounded like something out of those romance novels that Mary Ann and Ginger read. He had heard them read excerpts aloud to each other before. Gilligan blushed, for things were getting pretty graphic, and he just couldn't imagine Mary Ann writing something like that. Someone suddenly came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Gilligan, what are you looking at?" The voice said. Gilligan jumped and dropped the notebook.
"You scared me, Professor," Gilligan said, holding his chest, "I was reading this." He showed the Professor the notebook, then he explained what he had been reading.
"I don't know what to do, Professor. That story I was reading, it was... well it wasn't meant for children, that's for sure. She was using words that the Navy would probably even ban. What's worse is the way she described her main character... ocean blue eyes, wispy brown hair, long lanky body, a funny nose with a beautiful smile underneath it. It sounded almost like me, and the girl in the story... well, the way she described her, all I could picture in my mind was Mary Ann herself. I'm well, I'm embarrassed. I don't know how I'm suppose handle reading this story," Gilligan said. The Professor had been thumbing through the story himself. His eyes went wide and he even coughed while choking on some air he'd taken in too quickly. He finally shut the notebook.
"Gilligan, I don't think that story was probably meant for your eyes. Some people, they write stories to escape or to deal with stress or to unlock dreams they feel they can't share with anyone else. I'm little shocked by this story myself, but I do have to remember that Sigmund Freud attributed the root of almost all human behavior to sexual reasons. Mary Ann is a young, attractive, and healthy woman who is stranded on an island with three bachelors. One is too old for her, the other is like a brother, and then there is you, who has been her constant companion from day one. She sees you as the only one capable of being part of any fantasy she may have. What I'm trying to say is, she may not even be writing about things that she wants to come true, but rather writing about an alternate universe where she is bold and a little brazen... and you, you are the hero that charges in and says all the right things and does all the right things. The basis of a fantasy is that it's not real. The whole fun of it is that it's not real. You know, you ought to be flattered that Mary Ann choose you as her muse. It means she probably finds your demeanor very attractive," The Professor explained.
"You mean don't get bent out of shape over this?" Gilligan asked, because he wasn't quite sure if he had understood everything the Professor had said.
"Exactly," The Professor stated, "now I think the best thing for you to do is to return the notebook. If she asks about the story, you can tell her you liked it and that it was very well written and walk away. If the story embarrassed you, it is bound to be twice as embarrassing to Mary Ann that you saw it."
"Ok," Gilligan said, as he took the notebook and headed back to camp. He saw Mary Ann drying the last of the dishes. He had missed lunch, the first time in his life, unless if he was sick, of course.
"Mary Ann, I think this belongs to you," Gilligan said, handing over the notebook, "Gladys had it and she gave it to me."
Mary Ann's face went white, "Did you read it?" She asked, hoping he hadn't.
"Yes, I liked your stories. You're a very good writer," Gilligan said and walked away. Mary Ann reached out and grabbed him by the arm.
"Gilligan, that story at the end... I'm a little embarrassed... it wasn't meant for anyone to see... and now you saw it... you must think I'm horrible," Mary Ann said hiding her face.
"It's alright, Mary Ann. it's no big deal. The Professor explained it all... something about Freud and sex and fantasies not being real... something like that," Gilligan smiled, but Mary Ann was mortified, "The Professor saw it too?!"
"Mary Ann, I don't know why you are upset. You are a talented writer. I'm proud to have an author for a friend. If you think that the Professor or I or anyone could think any less of you because you're not innocent Mary Ann all the time, then you're wrong. We all love you, Mary Ann," Gilligan said, "I was wondering, though, why your character's name is William and why he sounds so much like me ."
"Well, that's because I care for you, Gilligan. You don't seem to see how much I care for you... and if I can dream that I'm more like Annie, then you will be more like William, maybe," Mary Ann said shyly.
"I care about you for you, not some made up character," Gilligan said, "of course, if you wanted to try Annie on for size..." This brought a smile to Mary Ann's face. She strolled up to Gilligan, grabbing him by the collar and kissed him deeply and passionately. She kissed his neck and nibbled his ears. She placed her hands under his shirt and felt his bare chest. Gilligan's head was swimming. He pulls her away and a sweeps her up in his arms. Then he said, "Does the story mention where that cave's at?"
Mary Ann smiled, "the one where you met me this morning."
The end