"Or Forever Hold Your Peace"

Gilligan hunched forward, leaning his forearms on his knees, and stared at the words written in the dirt floor of his hut.

Gilligan + Fat Native Girl

"Yuck." He scowled and hastily ran his hand through the dirt, erasing everything after the plus sign.

Gilligan thought for a moment, twirling the flower he had taken from the vase on the table to write with. He glanced around to make sure he was absolutely alone and began scratching another name in the dirt after his with the stem.

He was shakily putting the loop on an R when he heard a quick knock on the door behind him, followed by the sound of rope hinges on bamboo. His hands shot out and he quickly rubbed away the dirt graffiti. "Go away!"

"Oh," a soft voice faltered. "Sorry."

Gilligan froze upon hearing the unexpected voice and twisted around towards the now-empty doorway. "Wait. You can come in. I thought you were anyone else."

Mary Ann hesitantly reappeared, dressed for the party. Her hair hung long and wavy around her shoulders and her bright green bikini top almost glowed against her rich tan.

"You look pretty," Gilligan blurted, eyes immediately widening with astonishment that he had actually said such a thing out loud. He quickly turned his back on her again, missing her hide a shy smile in the bamboo doorframe.

"Thanks. Mrs. Howell wants us all to dress as natives." Gilligan heard her grass skirt rustling gently as she approached. "What are you doing sitting on the ground?" On the wall in front of him, he watched her shadow plant its hands on its hips as she studied him.

Gilligan shrugged. "It's just a sit on the ground kind of day." He rubbed his hand over the spot in the dirt once more for good measure as Mary Ann lowered herself to the ground beside him.

She tucked her bare feet up underneath her and watched him absently twirl the flower between his fingers, petals spinning in a bright pink blur. He finally sighed. "I don't want to get married."

Mary Ann smiled sadly. "I know."

"I mean eventually, sure, but not now. And not to that native girl. I don't even know her name!"

"I don't want you to marry her either."

Gilligan's head snapped up, shocked that she had a differing opinion from everyone else. "You don't?"

"Of course not. It's ridiculous." Mary Ann busied herself with spreading her grass skirt out around her, careful not to rip any of the long delicate leaves. "You don't love her."

"But what about going to their island and getting rescued?"

Mary Ann leaned forward slightly and addressed him seriously. "Gilligan, did the Professor ever actually ask the Chief if they have a transmitter? Or if ships come to their island?"

Gilligan stared at her blankly, realization slowly dawning on him. "I don't think so. Mr. Howell suggested it when we first met them."

"Well, then! So what happens when we go to their island for the wedding and discover that they're just as far off the map as we are? Either we all end up staying there forever or they send us back here without you. And what happens if we do get rescued? Do you think the Chief is going to let his new son-in-law disappear without a fight? It's absurd!" Mary Ann frowned and crossed her arms. "The others didn't think of that, did they?"

Gilligan's shoulders slumped a little more, hints of betrayal appearing in his furrowed brow. "But if you do get rescued..."

"I'm not going home without you!"

"Mary Ann, if I can save you, I'm gonna do it!"

They glared at each other stubbornly until Gilligan finally sighed and looked away. He gently ran his fingers over the soft pink petals of the flower. "You were the only one who didn't come looking for me to drag me back to marry her. Thanks."

Mary Ann was quiet for a long moment and Gilligan looked up to find her staring off into the corner, forehead wrinkled in thought. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and took a deep breath. "Back in Kansas my uncle arranged for me to marry a local boy that I didn't know very well. His father owned a huge wheat farm and Uncle George thought it would be good for business. But I couldn't stand him, he was a real creep. So I ran away. They came looking for me, of course. Five Summers men in giant pickup trucks stormed my friend Cindy's house and dragged me back. It was awful."

Gilligan watched her, wide-eyed. "So, what happened?" he whispered.

Mary Ann turned to him and laughed. "I took a three hour tour."

"Oh, yeah." Gilligan smiled sheepishly into his shirt.

"We were supposed to get married two weeks after I got back from Hawaii." Mary Ann smirked and elbowed Gilligan in the ribs. "Thanks for getting me shipwrecked."

Gilligan grinned. "It was my pleasure."

"My point is, Gilligan, that this isn't just a rescue scheme, it's your life. They didn't think about how this would affect you at all!"

"I know, but if there's a chance that we could get rescued, I have to do it. I can sneak away from her and come with you. Or you can send a boat back for me!" Gilligan nodded vigorously, trying to convince them both that this was a great idea, but it seemed to be having the opposite affect on Mary Ann. "It'll be okay, I promise!" he blurted as her perfectly balanced countenance began to crumble, moisture encircling her brown eyes.

"But you don't love her!" Mary Ann almost yelled, slamming her hands down on the ground in frustration.

Gilligan's smile slid off his face and he turned back to stare at the dirt. "I know. But at least someone wants to marry me."

Mary Ann's heart stopped.

She watched him slide his hat down to obscure his face, concentrating on the ground before him. "Gilligan. I know for a fact," she began and reached out to push his hat back into place, "that there's a girl in this world who would want to marry you." He ignored her and she sighed. "A girl who ... well, who speaks English, for starters." Mary Ann rubbed his back gently as she continued, idly tracing patterns on his shirt with her nails as he traced patterns in the dirt with the flower stem. "A girl who won't yell at you every time you knock something over. A girl who will cook for you instead of eating everything in sight." The side of his mouth twitched into a small smile at this and she leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze. "A girl who will go butterfly hunting with you."

Gilligan finally looked up and into her eyes. "Do you really think so?"

"I do."

He broke the dirty portion off of the flower stem, tossed it away, and gently tucked the rest of the blossom behind her left ear. "Now you look like you're ready for a party."

Mary Ann pulled his shoulder to her chest and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. She laid her head on his shoulder and joined him in watching the wall of the hut. Gilligan heard her sigh sadly and she linked her left arm through his, her right still wrapped around his back.

Gilligan opened his mouth to reassure her with one of his overly optimistic lies, but instead heard a piercing shriek from the doorway of the hut.

Gilligan sprang to his feet, pulling Mary Ann up with him as she clung to his arm.

His intended native bride stood in the doorway, redfaced and hurling what he could only imagine to be the worst insults of her language in his direction. Gilligan pushed Mary Ann behind him as the girl advanced on them, poking a demanding finger into his chest as she yelled.

"What's the matter? Calm down!" Gilligan fought to be heard over her. She tried to pry Mary Ann's arms from around Gilligan's torso, which only caused her to tighten her grip and clutch handfuls of his shirt in her fists. "Stop! What's wrong with you?"

"Gilligan! What's going on?" The Professor appeared in the hut followed closely by the Chief.

The girl ran to her father, gesticulating wildly in Gilligan and Mary Ann's direction. "I donno, Professor. I think she wants to beat up Mary Ann."

The Professor listened carefully as the girl finished whining to her father. The Chief turned to the Professor and said a few words in his native tongue, pointed at Mary Ann and shrugged.

The Professor turned back to them, eyebrows raised. "You're right. She does."

Behind Gilligan's shoulder, Mary Ann's jaw dropped. The native girl nodded and glared at her, threateningly punching one fist into the palm of her other hand. "I think you can take her," Gilligan whispered and Mary Ann nudged him reproachfully.

"She says that she came to get Gilligan ready for the party and saw him canoodling with that hussy."

"Professor!"

"Apologies, Mary Ann, but it's a loose translation. We don't have a word for what she called you."

Mary Ann frowned and possessively tightened her arms around Gilligan's middle. This didn't go unnoticed by the native girl, who narrowed her eyes and let out a low growl. Gilligan's eyes widened and he held his arms out protectively, taking a small step backwards, his sneakers skidding over the hearts he had doodled in the dirt.

The Chief, meanwhile, was deep in an animated conversation with the Professor, the words "Skeeny Weenie" jumping out at Gilligan as he recognized the nickname the Chief had given him. The Chief became more and more agitated and he was soon yelling, pointing wildly around the hut, the feathers on his headdress quivering violently.

The Professor raised his hands and began calmly explaining something to the Chief. Gilligan stole a glance over his shoulder at Mary Ann, who was watching the native girl stare her down, hefty arms crossed ominously across her chest.

When the Professor finished, the Chief was composed, almost smiling, as he related the story to his daughter. The girl dropped her arms and watched her father with disbelief. She pointed between Gilligan and Mary Ann and her father nodded. The girl started towards them and Gilligan backed up again. She easily pushed him aside and took a flabbergasted Mary Ann in a bone-crushing hug.

"Professor! What did you tell them?" Gilligan squeaked as he watched the girl cut off the circulation in Mary Ann's arms.

The Chief approached and pulled his daughter away. He then took Mary Ann by the arms and kissed her ceremoniously on both cheeks. He held her face gently in his hands and spoke kindly to the young castaway, who stared up at him through huge eyes.

The Professor hurried over to his friends and carefully took Mary Ann from the Chief's grasp. "I told them she's your sister, Gilligan, so you're all family now." The Professor took Mary Ann's arm and began leading her towards the door.

"But Professor!" Mary Ann reached out and grabbed Gilligan's hand.

"Come on, Mary Ann." With one final pull, he wrenched her from him and practically pushed her into the clearing. "Ginger needs help with the food for the party."

As she was led away, Mary Ann ignored the Professor's lecture and turned to look over her shoulder, catching Gilligan's gaze through the window as the native girl fawned all over him. She watched as the girl hugged Gilligan, pat his cheek, and fixed his hair, while he tried unsuccessfully to squirm away from her grasp.

Mary Ann crashed into the Professor as he stopped to speak with the Skipper, who was heading towards the hut with Gilligan's grass skirt for the party. She registered only pieces of the Professor's rant – "saw Gilligan with Mary Ann," "almost got herself killed," "I took care of it" – before the men parted ways and the Professor tugged on her wrist again. Mary Ann saw the native girl plant one great hand on Gilligan's shoulder and push him down below the window, plopping down on the ground beside him.

As they disappeared into the jungle, Mary Ann heard Gilligan pleading with the native girl from the hut. "I'd make a lousy husband. Really! I can't hunt, I can't fish, and I can't shrink a head worth a darn!"

"You don't care about his feelings at all," Mary Ann muttered under her breath. The Professor didn't respond, but obviously had heard her. He picked up his pace as he crashed through the jungle, pulling her roughly along behind him. "She'd never go butterfly hunting with him."