Chapter 1
A slight breeze moved through the lush tropical forest, rustling the leaves of the palm trees. Gilligan, clad in his red polo shirt and white sailor's hat ran hurriedly through the foliage, glancing behind him every so often as if to check to see if someone was following him.
"Skipper; Professor!" he cried as he ran. "Skipper! Professor!"
He turned around, looking once more for anything suspicious, before he continued running, though he didn't see the man in the blue sleeveless Rugby shirt who had walked up. The man let out an "Oof!" and reached for his navy cap, but stopped when he saw the fear in the young man's eyes.
"What is it, Gilligan?" he asked, lifting the boy to his feet.
"Skipper," Gilligan began breathlessly. "Skipper, I-"
"What is it, little buddy?" Skipper interrupted, worried.
"I saw-"
"What did you see?"
"I saw-"
"Spit it out, Gilligan!"
"I saw-"
Suddenly, another voice shouted, "Skipper! Gilligan! What's wrong?"
"Professor!" Gilligan exclaimed. "I saw-"
"Oh, Professor!" Skipper interrupted once more. "Gilligan was about to tell me what he saw."
"Well, what did you see, Gilligan?" the Professor asked, his interest piqued by the boy's demeanor.
"Well, I'll tell you if you don't interrupt," Gilligan said, only half annoyed.
"Okay, Gilligan," Skipper agreed.
"Okay," Gilligan said, happy he could speak now, "I saw a-"
"I do say, what is all this commotion about?" yet another voice stopped Gilligan just before he could finish his sentence.
"Oh, Mr. Howell!" the Professor exclaimed, annoyed, as a man appeared through the foliage. Just by his smart outfit, anyone could tell that Mr. Thurston Howell III was a man of great wealth. "Gilligan saw something and he was just about to alert us of what it was!"
"Oh, is that all?" Mr. Howell said, chuckling. "By the way the lad was screaming, I thought the stock market crashed!"
"I'm with you, Mr. Howell," Skipper said, "but it could be worse this time."
"It is!" Gilligan cried out. "I haw a seadsunter!"
"What?" the men asked in unison.
"I mean I saw a seadhunter! I mean..." He trailed off.
"You mean you saw a headhunter?" Professor asked, surprised.
"Yeah, that's it!" Gilligan exclaimed. "There were two men, see? And they both were ten feet tall! And they had these biiiiiig long arms and they carried spears!" Gilligan did his best to imitate what he was saying, but it seemed everyone had stopped listening at the word 'headhunter'.
"We'd better go warn the girls," Skipper said. "If there really is a headhunter on the island, they should be careful!"
Mr. Howell looked like he was about to faint. "If there really is a headhunter on the island, I just left Lovey alone in our hut!"
"Don't worry, Mr. Howell," Skipper assured him. "I will go-"
"Skipper, I suggest you and Gilligan search for the headhunter while Mr. Howell and I go warn the women," the Professor interrupted.
"Whatever you say, Professor," Skipper said. "Come on, Gilligan," he ordered.
Gilligan didn't move; he stood frozen in place. He slowly shook his head as if to say "No way!"
"Gilligan, you will come with me!" Skipper grabbed Gilligan by the arm and pulled him along, despite the first mate's protests.
Gilligan stopped struggling as he realized it didn't help. He walked with the Skipper, only this time he was the one clinging to the Skipper's arm. Neither of them said anything.
Skipper finally broke the silence. "I think we can cover more ground if we split up," he said.
Gilligan's baby blue eyes widened in fear. "But, Skipper!" he protested, his voice high pitched and squeaky.
"No buts, Gilligan," Skipper said bluntly. "Now, I want you to head toward the lagoon, and we'll meet back at the beach. And don't lose your head!"
Gilligan's eyes widened. "My head?!" he squeaked. Skipper opened his mouth to reword his sentence, but Gilligan stopped him. "No, you were right the first time!" he exclaimed.
Skipper shrugged and marched off into the foliage. Gilligan stared after him, pouting. "He told me to head to the lagoon? Well, I'm not going to the lagoon!" The call of a wild bird caused the first mate to jump. "Yeah, I'll go to the lagoon," he said, fearful, before racing down the path.
Mary Ann Summers carefully dipped a wooden plate into a bucket of water, pulling it back out and scrubbing it with the washcloth in her hand. Once she was finished, she placed it in a square bucket to dry.
"Ginger," she said, looking over to the red-head sitting across the table from her, looking into her beautiful reflection.
"What did you say, Mary Ann?" Ginger asked, not even bothering to look up.
Mary Ann put her hands on her hips. "I haven't said anything, yet. I was going to say pass that plate beside you, but I can see that you two are preoccupied." Her voice betrayed the amusement she found in the movie star's various poses, but Ginger didn't seem to notice.
"I just want to see myself every once in a while," Ginger explained, handing the plate over to Mary Ann.
"You don't need a mirror," Mary Ann said, having to strain herself to reach the red-head's hand, "you're still beautiful."
"Oh, I know that!" Ginger exclaimed. "And you know I just like to have another opinion."
Mary Ann half rolled her eyes, proceeding to wash the dish in her hand.
"Oh, girls!" a woman cried, bursting out from her palm frond hut carrying two almost identical outfits, one blue and one beige.
"Hello, Mrs. Howell," Ginger greeted, putting down the blue mirror she had been staring into.
"Girls, I need your opinion on something!" the rich woman cried.
"Sure, Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann said, smiling. "What is it?"
"Which dress should I wear when Thurston and I take our walk this evening?" Mrs. Howell asked. "The blue or the beige?"
"Blue," Ginger and Mary Ann answered together.
"Really?" Mrs. Howell asked, shocked. "I was thinking the beige one!"
Ginger and Mary Ann exchanged amused looks, and Mrs. Howell just took it as being her decision was the right one.
"Thank you for your help, girls!"
Mrs. Howell was stopped in mid-step when they heard the Professor call, "Everyone!"
"What is it, Professor?" Mary Ann asked, her brown eyes filled with worry.
"Gilligan has seen a headhunter!" Mr. Howell answered for him, following the scientist into camp.
"Headhunter?" shrilled Mrs. Howell. "Does that mean we'll have to cancel our evening walk?"
"I'm afraid so, Lovey," Mr. Howell told her solemnly.
"Where are Skipper and Gilligan?" Ginger asked, looking around for the captain and his first mate.
"They are out searching for our 'visitor'," the Professor explained. "As long as they stick together, they should be fine."
Gilligan crept quietly through the jungle, jumping at the slightest noise. He had stopped his frantic run, partially because he didn't want to stop too late and fall into the lagoon. The other part of the reason even he wasn't sure of.
He jumped and did a spin in the air when he heard a twig snap behind him. He smiled when he saw it was only a bird, hopping through the undergrowth in search of an insect. He turned around, his eyes still on the bird, and walked forward.
"Ahhhh!" he screamed as he fell face first into the lagoon with a loud SPLASH! The lagoon was warm to the touch, but as Gilligan trudged wearily out onto the beach, the slight wind caused the water on his clothes to chill as soon as he stepped onto the sand. He groaned and rubbed his hands together as if to warm himself up.
"It's freezing!" he exclaimed, half hoping there was someone around to hear him, the other half hoping that if someone was there, it wasn't a headhunter. His teeth began to chatter. "I-I'd b-b-better go f-find S-Skip-p-per."
Gilligan began to walk with great difficulty to the foliage, looking searchingly through the jungle for his big buddy. It seemed even colder as he walked into the dense jungle. Suddenly, he broke out into a fit of coughs.
"Skip-" he began, but couldn't finish because of his own nonstop coughing."Skipper," he called out weakly, praying that his friend had heard. He tried once again, this time louder, but the strain on his voice to yell tossed him into another bought of coughing and wheezing.
Gilligan felt extremely drained. The next thing he knew he was laying on the sandy floor of the jungle. He hadn't felt himself fall, and he didn't care, but he could feel himself drifting off into unconsciousness. The last thing his saw, before darkness coated his eyes, was a small figure leaning over him.