Chapter One:
"Well fine! Go ahead, see what I care!"
"Well if you are going to behave in such a ludicrous manor, I will!"
"I am not behaving in a ludicrous manor!"
"You don't even know what that means!"
"I do so! And if I were to behave in a ludicrous manor, it would only be because I've been wasting my time with you!"
"Well believe me; you won't be wasting your time with me anymore!"
"Well good! Because for the record, I never want to speak to you again as long as I live on this island!" Ginger stormed away angrily into MaryAnn's hut, slamming (if it was possible to slam a bamboo door fastened with bamboo hinges) the door behind her.
"What am I doing?!" Ginger exclaimed, "I don't live here anymore! Sorry MaryAnn; didn't mean to barge in!"
"Wait, Ginger!" MaryAnn called, hurrying out the door to catch up with her. "Hey, hold up. What's going on?"
Slowing down, Ginger clenched and unclenched her hands, still fuming, she explained, "Him."
"Him?" MaryAnn questioned further.
"Oh I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh come on. Seriously, what's the matter?"
Ginger did not reply so MaryAnn continued, "Not to seem nosy, but why were you and the Professor shouting at each other?"
"Well, if you really must know," Ginger began, smiling slightly, thankful for MaryAnn's concern, "I have no idea what we were fighting about. All I remember is that I was right; he was wrong, and I never want to speak to him again."
"Oh come on, it couldn't have been that bad."
"Believe me, it was horrible. I can't believe I've been such an idiot to like him! ERR!"
Ginger continued to rant on about hating the Professor and MaryAnn rolled her eyes, confident the bitterness would be ended in a short amount of time.
"Well, if you're alright, I've got to get back to my hut. Willy ought to be home by now."
"Okay, good night," Ginger replied. For the life of her, she would never get used to MaryAnn, or anyone for that matter, calling Gilligan Willy.
A chilly wind blew through the island the next morning as a possible premonition of a storm. Breakfast was served in an awkward atmosphere. Ginger was sitting next to MaryAnn, who was sitting next to Gilligan (or should I say Willy?), who was sitting next to Skipper, who was sitting next to the Professor, who sat beside Mr. Howell, who sat next to Mrs. Howell, who in turn sat next to Ginger. Needless to say, Ginger and the Professor were sitting as far apart as possible. The very few times they made eye-contact, they exchanged hateful glares.
The conversation was automatic and robotic and everyone was relived when breakfast was finished.
Later on in the day, perhaps two o'clock, a small storm did hit. Each castaway barricaded themselves in their huts to wait out its duration.
"I fold," the Professor announced, tossing his cards, discouraged, onto the small, wooden table.
Chuckling, the Skipper revealed a flush and collected his chips. "No offense Professor, but for being as smart a man as you are, you sure are lousy at poker."
"Yeah, well, chess is my game anyway. Besides, I think it has stopped raining."
"Yeah," the Skipper agreed, "Say… do you hear something?"
"Why, yes. It sounded like other people!"
They both stood up quickly and raced to the door, eager to greet their visitors.
"Oh look Dolly, huts!" an eager looking little boy of maybe nine exclaimed.
"Oh, my. I hope we didn't stumble upon some wild natives!" a slightly older girl whispered nervously.
"Oh don't be silly Dolly. And Charlie, don't you put ideas into your sister's head!" a woman of perhaps 40 addressed her children. Then, turning to a man of the same age who was obviously her husband, "Isn't that right Mark. There wouldn't be any wild natives, right?"
"Of course not Betty, but never the less; let's get back to the boat kids. We're going to run out of daylight in a few hours," his voice made it seem that he did indeed believe there were natives in the hut.
The family walked away from the hut when suddenly, hearing a voice, they froze in fright.
"Wait! Don't leave. We're marooned here!"
The family turned around to see two men hurrying towards them. The larger of the two spoke, "Hi, sorry to have alarmed you. We're the castaways from the S. S. Minnow. We're stranded here."
"Are you serious? I mean, almost monthly you're mentioned in the news, but of course, everyone thought you were, well, um dead."
"No, we've survived," the Professor answered.
"Um, weren't there seven or eight of you?" Betty asked timidly.
"Oh! It's not like that, all seven of us survived," the Skipper laughed jovially, "But I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I'm Skipper Jonas Grumby."
"And I'm Professor Roy Hinkley."
"How do you do?" Mark asked, shaking their hands. "I'm Mark Wandles. And this is my wife, Betty, and our two children; Dolly and Charlie."
"Hi kids!" Skipper said, smiling broadly.
"Hi sir," the kids mumbled shyly.
"Please, don't call me sir, it makes me feel old," he laughed, winking at them, "Call me Skipper."
"Okay, Skipper," they answered, a little less shy now.
"Well, why don't you round up everyone else and then we can sail back to the main land."
"That would be great! We'll go get them!"
No one could believe their ears as the Professor and Skipper told them the good news. After hastily packing their belongings, the castaways gathered down at the lagoon and prepared to bid their little island farewell.
"Um…" Mark began, awkwardly, "Our boat is um, pretty small, so um…"
"Oh, yes! I see what you mean. We can leave our luggage here, and come back to get it later," Skipper suggested.
After the suitcases had been returned to their owner's huts, the castaways and the Wandles' boarded the small, but sturdy boat.
"Are we really leaving…" Ginger asked no one in particular.
"I… I don't know… Let's see how I can mess this one up…" Gilligan laughed. "MaryAnn, why are you crying?"
"I don't know whether I'm happy or sad to finally be rescued!"
"Well MaryAnn, like another little Kansas farm-girl said; "There's no place like home," Mr. Howell said.
"Yeah, but where exactly is home…" MaryAnn asked.
They all stood in silence for a while pondering. Betty and Mark shifted uneasily, then Betty suggested, "Well, you can always uh, come back to visit."
"Yes, I suppose we will…" Mrs. Howell responded.
Mark Fired up the engine and the boat drifted away from the place they had called home for four memorable years…