Disclaimer: The Island, the seven castaways, the show's name: all Sherwood Schwartz's, not mine. And you may see some incidents that were mentioned in books by three of the show's stars, but as the Professor in the Beanstalk dream said, "Don't believe everything you hear, girlie!"
Author's Ramblings: You will notice that there are some characters here with unfamiliar last names. That is because all of the characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to any individuals, living or dead, is pure coincidence. Heck, I wish I could have met them!
More Ramblings: Many years ago, Jean Lorrah wrote a fanfic for classic Star Trek called "Visit to a Weird Planet." Later, Ruth Berman wrote the other side of the story in "Visit to a Weird Planet Revisited." This story carries on that delightful tradition.
Dedicated to Tabitha12, who challenged me to write this and faithfully beta-read the whole thing twice (bless you!) and the late, great Bob Denver, who I am sure is on a Blessed Island somewhere.
And now I can hear Mr. Howell saying, "I can't stand late curtains or talky projectionists! Just get on with it!"
Visit to a Weird Island
The red-shirted figure broke the surface of the lagoon. "Skippererer!" he shouted, thrashing about, but was drowned out by the engine of a jet plane roaring overhead.
"Blast!" Director Leslie Godwins' clipped English accent had grown ever stronger with impatience. He shaded his eyes at the sky. "That's the fifth take ruined today! Is the whole ruddy world traveling to Los Angeles?"
Bob Colorado splashed his way out of the water, shivering. Even in southern California, the November air had a nip to it. "What happened?" he asked.
"Airplane. Sorry, Bobby." Russell Tomson, attired in his customary pale blue shirt and khaki pants, looked glad to be dry onshore. "Boy, there are times when I sure am glad you're the star, not me!"
Bob groaned. "Sheesh! Tell me about it!"
"Oh, can't we take a break while he takes a hot shower or something?" Dawn Bells pleaded with the director. "We can see our breath, it's so cold! Bob's likely to catch pneumonia at this rate!"
"Sorry, love," Godwins called from where he was huddled with the lighting man. "Not like working on a soundstage, you know. We'll lose the daylight soon and we've got to get this scene in the can today. Now – let's just go over the dialogue once more, shall we? Don't want poor Bob going in a seventh time because someone flubs a line, do we?"
Russell raised a suitably offended eyebrow. "Mr. Godwins, we never flub."
"Some of us talk too fast," said Dawn, smiling.
"And some of us improvise like crazy. Good thing Jim's with the others doing a scene at the huts right now or we'd never get finished!" said Bob.
"And some of us do such brilliant pratfalls that the whole crew starts laughing and ruins the take!" said Russell. "Remember when you dared Alan to bend over and pick you up and his pants ripped right into the camera? I could hear the crew howling from my dressing room!"
Bob chuckled. "And Alan was laughing hardest of all. Good thing you weren't there, Dawn. Apparently he wasn't wearing his shorts with the little hearts them on that day."
The director harrumphed loudly. "Lovely dialogue, my dears, but it's not in the script. May we begin from, 'I've found it, Professor!'? Bob, if you please?" He turned to the crew. "This isn't a take, lads. But Sam, check that light. I've a notion there's something wrong with it."
Bob turned to his fellow cast members and held up a necklace with a gleaming golden pendant. His clever face took on Gilligan's animated innocence. "I've found it, Professor! I've found it!"
Dawn held up a similar pendant that was about half the size of Bob's, and clutched his arm. "Oh, that's got to be it, Gilligan! You did it!"
Russell held up a third pendant that was the same size as Dawn's. "There's no doubt about it, Gilligan! You've found the amulet of the Chichen Itza!"
"The amulet of chicken pizza?" said Bob. "Gee, Professor, I prefer mine with pepperoni."
"No, no, Gilligan. Chichen Itza was the capital city of the ancient Mayans of Mexico. One of the most advanced races the world has ever known!"
Dawn frowned at her amulet "But Professor, if the Mayans were from Mexico, what's this doing here in the South Pacific?"
"Maybe they rode here on a surf board like Duke Williams," said Bob-as-Gilligan, looking forward to how Russell would deal with the latest offering of techno-babble the writers had handed him. At least Gilligan never had those kinds of lines.
Russell sounded his most scholarly. "Highly unlikely, Gilligan. In fact, I doubt that they even came here by boat. The Mayans were extraordinarily advanced mathematicians and physicists. They had an accurate calendar long before the Europeans and even discovered the number zero!"
"Gee, that's not so difficult, Professor. I discovered zero all the time on my tests in school!"
"Please, Gilligan," said Dawn, "the Professor's trying to explain something."
Russell continued. "The Mayans understood such concepts as the space-time continuum and parallel dimensions. When the population of a whole Mayan village vanished in the tenth century it's believed that they discovered an inter-dimensional gateway and simply walked into another plane!"
"Gilligan" snorted. "Well, if we had a gate and a plane we could just walk into, we could get out of here, too!"
Russell was used to crazy scripts by now. His voice carried total conviction. "We may not need a plane, Gilligan. If we could use these to tap into an inter-dimensional gateway, we might be able to simply walk out of here and into another place – possibly even the mainland!"
"What?" Bob and Dawn chorused.
"Yes - I'm convinced that these amulets hold the secret to getting us off this island!" Russell straightened. "And cut! End of teaser. Go to commercial." He smiled at Godwins, who had looked up, slightly annoyed. "I always wanted to say cut," he admitted sheepishly.
Godwins sighed. "I'd like to say it too, my dears. Well, at least the dialogue's spot on. All right: take your places, everyone. Sorry, Bob. I've afraid you're back in the drink, old boy.
Bob sighed heavily, but trooper that he was, made no argument. "Oh well. At least I'm already wet."
As he turned to go, Russell murmured, "Bobby…David Harmon wrote this script?"
"Yeah. Said he got the idea from a trip he took to Mexico."
Russell looked at his amulet. "Parallel dimensions and space-time continuums! Sounds like David should be writing for that new science fiction show…Star Track or whatever it's called."
Bob raised his eyebrows. "Maybe so. He told me he bought these amulets off some little old Indian in a village in the Yucatan. We better not lose them." He turned to Godwins. "I say, Leslie, old boy!" he called, in perfect mimicry of Godwins' accent. "Shall we put these thingies on? So we don't lose them, what? I shouldn't want mine at the bottom of the lagoon, don't you know."
Godwins sighed. "Whatever you like, Bob dear. Could we just get the take, please?"
The three actors looped the amulets around their necks. Bob turned and obediently trudged off into the water as Godwins addressed his awaiting cast and crew. "All right, everyone. Lights! Camera! Action!"
Bob took a deep breath, shivered again, and dove into the water.
Flash! There was a burst of light as one of the big spotlights shorted out.
Clap! The earth suddenly rocked back and forth, flimsy as a house made of cards, and Dawn screamed and clutched at Russell as they both struggled to keep their footing. The sky blazed a blinding white.
Moments later, the earth stood still again and the sky deepened to a soft, brilliant blue. Russell and Dawn stood gasping, still hanging onto one another. At that moment Bob splashed to the surface of the lagoon once again and came stumbling out. "Professor, I found it! I found it!"
He came to an abrupt halt as he stared at their strange embrace. Trying to save the take, he held up the amulet and dangled it in front of Russell. "Uh…Professor – is this it?"
"Bob, are you okay?" gasped Dawn, standing up straight.
Bob slumped. "I was 'til you ruined the take! What gives, Dawn?"
"The light blew, and then there was an earthquake!" she cried.
"And then a sheet of lightning!" said Russell.
Bob rolled his eyes. "Aw, come on, guys. This isn't funny. Les, should I -?" He stopped suddenly, realizing something was missing. No one had yelled "Cut."
He looked beyond his fellow cast members to the edge of the set's jungle and bit back a curse. "Aw, come on! A practical joke can go too far! Were you guys in on this?"
"In on what?" said Russell, and he and Dawn turned to look behind them. They blinked in surprise. There was no crew. All the huge lights, the boom mike, the cameras and every single crew member, including the director, had vanished. Even Goodwin's folding chair was gone.
"They wouldn't dare do this to Alan," Bob fumed. "Wait 'til I tell him!"
"Hang on, Bobby," said Dawn, putting her hand on his arm. "There was no joke, honest. There really was a quake! Didn't you hear me scream?"
"I almost screamed when the lightning hit and you were still in the water," said Russell. "I thought we'd have a French-fried star!"
At last Bob could see that they were serious. "Sorry, guys. You know we've had trouble with wise-guy directors before. But how'd they all disappear so fast? I wasn't underwater that long!"
"Yeah! Gee, I hope no one's hurt!" said Dawn. The three crept up to the edge of the fake jungle, fearing to see bodies lying about.
For a few moments they peered about in the foliage, pushing ferns and branches aside, but they could find no one and nothing. Not a cord or cable, or even the mark of a wheel.
Bob scratched his head. "This is freaky."
Russell fingered one of the ferns. "Here's something freakier. I think Sherwood's managed to squeeze some more money out of the top brass. These plants are real! They've even got real bugs on them!"
"And they're sure spreading the sand mighty thick!" said Dawn, reaching down to pull off her shoe. "You'd never know there was black-top under all this!" She suddenly straightened, listening. "Hey – I can hear birds! Why would they be playing the bird soundtrack out here? Don't they usually add it in the editing room?"
"At least we don't hear a bunch of people laughing," said Bob. Then he suddenly straightened too. "Hey – it sure did get warm all of a sudden. I'm not cold anymore!" He unbuttoned the collar of his rugby shirt. "And I can't see my breath. Look!" He breathed out, his breath invisible.
Dawn and Russell tried the same experiment. "Wow. Weird weather," said Russell, and shading his eyes, looked at the sky. "Hey, you two! Look!"
All three looked up where he was staring and gasped. The pale blue, smoggy L.A. sky had deepened to a rich, melting azure with huge, ice cream clouds. No sky could change that fast. The three actors stared at each other, their eyes growing wide with apprehension. "Guys…what happened to the sky? What on earth's going on?" whispered Dawn.
Russell looked around, suddenly seeming as in charge as the Professor. "I don't know. Come on. We'd better find the crew."
The thought of some kind of action roused them from their frightened trance and they struck off swiftly, propelled by nervous energy. They headed deep into the jungle set.
It was only a few moments before Bob spoke again, in hushed tones that bordered on fear. "Guys…Sherwood doesn't have this kind of budget."
They were walking like astonished children through a green cathedral of stately, curving coconut palms, blade straight palmettos and tall, slender bamboo whose hollow stems made a soft toc toc as the breeze blew them in a swaying dance. Thick bushes of orange and white hibiscus threw off waves of dizzyingly sweet scent. The sun filtered down in golden shafts, illuminating a shimmering carpet of ferns on the jungle floor. Brightly coloured birds, like living jewels, flitted from branch to branch, and far off in the canopy they could hear the screech of monkeys. Bob, Dawn and Russell looked at each other, almost holding hands for fear and wonder.
This was no studio back-lot. If the jungle itself were not proof enough, the land was steadily rising, until at last they emerged into a clearing on the top of a hill. At the smell, sound and sight that hit them, all three gasped as if struck.
"Mary Ann, you're not in Kansas anymore," murmured Russell.
The smell was the salt ocean, the sound the crash of waves. Spread out before them was the magnificent curve of a tropical bay, ringed with tawny golden sand. Pure aquamarine water rippled in the sunlight, deepening to cobalt where the sky met the sea.
The mantle of palms that fringed the shore wafted gently in the warm salt breeze.
The actors stared at each other, clutching one another's arms as if to be sure they were really there. "Fellas, am I dreaming?" whispered Dawn.
"If you are, I'm having the same dream," said Russell, his voice tinged with awe. "I feel like I'm back on one of my Twilight Zone episodes!"
Bob stepped forward to see better. He was still wet from the lagoon, but drying quickly in the hot sun. Shading his eyes he stared intently at the shoreline. "Hey…I know this place! I've been here before!" He looked back at the two of them, his voice quivering with amazement. "This is Moloa'a Bay! This was where we shot the pilot, before you two and Tina were cast."
Dawn stared at him, then back at the scene below. "What?! Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure." Bob gazed out over the water, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and serious. "I fell in love with this place the moment I first saw it. I felt like I'd come home."
"But…Bobby, didn't you shoot the pilot in Hawaii?"
"Yeah, Dawn. Near Hanalei, on Kauai." He looked across to where a towering green escarpment with ridges that looked as though they had been carved out by a giant knife sloped down to the water. "Look, I'm not kidding. See over there? That's the Waialeale Ridge!"
Dawn and Russell looked at the mountain range, unable to believe their eyes. "We - we're in Hawaii? How in the world could we be in Hawaii?" stammered Russell.
Bob was still staring at the ridge when suddenly he frowned. "Wait a minute. I...I don't think we are," he said quietly.
"But you said—"
"I know what I said. But I just remembered something. The Waialeale Ridge isn't right on Moloa'a Bay. It's way south-west of here. That thing's in the wrong place!"
Dawn shook her head. "First we're in the wrong place – then the mountain is! Bobby, what gives?"
He turned to them. "And another thing: if this really is Moloa'a, there should be a road right over there. That's how we got the crew and gear down to the location. And there should be a building, right up there. But there isn't. This bay looks the same as Moloa'a, but things are all mixed up. It's almost as if…" He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening. "Oh, good God. No way. No, that's too wild, even for this show!"
"What do you mean, Bob?"
Bob looked around, his white hat blazing in the sun atop his shock of dark hair. "I do know where we are!"
"Where?"
Bob knelt and scooped up a handful of golden sand, letting it trickle slowly through his fingers as he watched in wonder. At last he stood up and looked at his friends. "Here... on Gilligan's Island!"
