Right after breakfast was over, the Skipper approached Gilligan discreetly. Once he knew that no one was paying attention, he led Gilligan away from the area, telling him that he had important instructions for him. Once they were out of everyone's ear shot, the Skipper began to reveal to Gilligan what his plans were.
"Now Gilligan, this is very important. I need you to stay out of my hair for the rest of the day. I'll be down in the clearing on the north side of the island... but no one is to know I'm there. You got that?" Gilligan vigorously nodded his head.
"Why Skipper? Why can't no one know you're there?"
"It's a surprise, that's why!"
"A surprise? Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Wait until I tell..." the Skipper gave Gilligan a stern look. "Wait until I tell nobody... absolutely nobody," Gilligan finished.
"Look Gilligan," the Skipper sighed, "Ginger's birthday is right around the corner... and I have in mind to make something really special for her."
"So, why can't I tell the others?"
"They might blab it to Ginger. Besides that, this present is for Ginger... and Ginger alone. It will be up to her if she wants to show it to the others."
"Won't they see it when she opens it up at the party?"
"Gilligan, she can't open this gift at the party. I'll have to present it to her either before the party... or after, I guess."
"I know what you're building," Gilligan said confidently with a smile.
"You do?"
"Uh huh. You're going to build her a rocket ship so she can be the first movie star in space." Even though the Skipper had hit him with his cap, Gilligan still smiled proudly at his guess.
"No Gilligan! What good would a rocket ship do? We have no rocket fuel. Besides, if that were the case I'd build a rocket big enough for all of us to get off this island. Oh, nevermind Gilligan! Just get back to work!" Gilligan saluted his commanding officer and the Skipper did like wise as he dismissed his "little buddy" from the premises.
...
The Skipper wasted no time in getting right to work. First thing was first. He made a bee line right for the supply hut and began sorting through a crate that had various odds and ends. Ah yes! Chains.. and plenty of them. The only problem was that a good portion of them had rust on them. Perhaps the Professor had some sort of magic in his bag of scientific tricks that might be able to help him out. Yet then... the Professor might wonder why the Skipper had suddenly become so concerned about rust removal. Oh surely he could come up with some sort of cockamamie story to appease the Professor. Though quite knowledgeable and observant, the Professor wasn't one to delve into ones personal business. He didn't have the time to be a busybody. More than likely, all the Skipper would have to say is that he needed a way to remove rust and that would be the end of it.
Also, the Skipper had thought of using rope... but most of what they had, had been unbraided and used as twine. What rope remained was spoiled with water rot. Besides, chains were stronger and more durable. They weren't very pretty... but the Skipper could fix that. All he needed were a few accessories from Mary Ann and Mrs. Howell.
Great! Now I'm going to get the two of them involved? The Skipper thought to himself with a sigh. Oh well! He guessed that all he had to say is that he needed some supplies for Ginger's birthday present. After all, it wasn't a lie.
After measuring about how much chain he would need, he then began to sort through the planks of his long lost Minnow. How fitting it was that he build Ginger something, using the lumber from the very boat that had brought them together in the first place. He inspected many pieces of wood, looking for signs of chipping, splintering, rotting, or termite infestation. Finally, he found the perfect piece. All he needed to do now was to cut it to the appropriate size, strip the paint, sand over it, and then put a water proof varnish on it. He knew where to get that... for the Professor had made plenty that time Gilligan and himself had headed out on a home made raft to try and find any signs of help or civilization.
He gathered his supplies in a wheel barrel and headed out to make the few short stops he planned on to obtain the remaining materials he needed. His first stop would be the Professor.
...
Professor Roy Hinkley was pouring over his book of poisonous plant life when he heard the knock on his door.
"Come in," he replied as he continued to read. Only when the door had swung open did the Professor tear his eyes away from his reading. "Oh, good morning Skipper. What can I do for you?"
"I was wanting to know if you had anything that could remove rust."
"Ah yes," the Professor said with fondness, as if he were speaking of a friend, "good old iron oxide. Or as the formula is written Fe2O. It's a simple procedure... just dab on a bit of vinegar and baking soda. The acid will consume the iron deposits within a few minutes. Then all that needs to be done is wipe the excess away. Of course, if the oxidization has occurred over a long period of time, the damage done to the steel many be irreversible."
"I think the...the anchor is still in pretty good shape. I get that cleaned up, perhaps you can melt it down to make some more utensils for the girls."
"Skipper," the Professor said sternly, " if by chance we can get another sea craft erected, that anchor will be vital to our survival out in the rough waters of the ocean. You never can tell when a typhoon or tsunami or thunder storm is going to hit. Surely you know this. You must have lost your head for a moment. Don't worry... I'll get the girls some more flatware made all in due time."
Lose my head? I'm out of my mind in love with the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
"Of course I knew that. I didn't mean anchor... I meant... the cannon balls. Remember the big chest of cannon balls that Mr. Howell and Gilligan were fighting over last year? Well, we have way more than we'll ever need. Might as well put them to use."
The Professor raised an eyebrow. The Skipper was up to something, it was quite obvious. However, he dismissed it and bid the Skipper a good day.
Once the Skipper bid the Professor a good day and thanked him for his advice, he headed toward Mr. and Mrs. Howell's hut. Surely, Mrs. Howell would have some pretty silk flowers that she might be willing to part with... at least he hoped she would. Some of her hats were so fancy and surely they had cost her a pretty penny. However, over the last two years, the Howells had become a bit more generous for the cause of the common good of all on the island.
This was a good cause, in the Skipper's opinion. This was more than just a birthday present. This was something he was putting his whole heart into... a labor of love. Yet, he wasn't one hundred percent sure that he "loved" Ginger. Love was a very strong word. Yet, he knew he cared for her. He knew that he wished there was more than their little platonic friendship between them. Could it ever grow into more? The Skipper was curious to find out.
...
Mr. and Mrs. Howell were enjoying a bit of classical music on the transistor radio when the knock came on the door.
"Thurston dear, I do believe we have a guest coming to call, " Mrs. Howell replied.
"I'll get it my dear," Mr. Howell said as he set down his drink and rose from his seat. "Ah, good day Captain. What can we do for you?"
"Well, Mr. Howell," the Skipper stated as he entered the hut and removed his cap out of respect for Mrs. Howell, "I sort of have a strange request. If I could have a minute of Mrs. Howell's time."
"Well... this is just splendid!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight. It was a rare occasion when someone came to call on her for help. "Whatever do you need, dear Captain?"
"Well, you see... I'm getting ready to work on a project of sorts... and I was wondering if I couldn't borrow some silk flowers? You know, from some of your hats?"
"What sort of project?"
"Oh! It's a surprise."
"I know! You're going to decorate the commons area! Good for you, Captain. Meal time is so dreary. Flowers wrapped around the torch poles seems like a good start to me... then perhaps you can put together a nice arrangement for the table's centerpiece. But Captain... I didn't realize you were into interior design."
"Lovely, the dining room is located outside," Mr. Howell emphasized as he rolled his eyes.
"Well..." the Skipper said, trying to explain that he wasn't doing any sort of redecorating, "that's not what I really had in mind for those flowers. I wish I could tell you what I really need them for... but I can't. It's a secret... a surprise of sorts... but I promise you that your contribution will be going towards a really good cause."
"Oh certainly, Captain! You just go on about your business. My hats are in the closet. Take whatever you need. They're all terribly out of fashion any way. When we get off of this little island, I'll buy a whole new wardrobe in fact."
So the Skipper helped himself, occasionally calling on Mrs. Howell to help him pick out styles and colors that would go together. Once he felt that he had what he needed, he thanked the Howells for their generosity.
...
The Skipper had finally finished gathering his supplies. After a short stop at Mary Ann's to borrow ribbon, he made his way with his wheel barrel up the path to the place where he would begin to put together something that he hoped Ginger would treasure.
He stopped about half way up, to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. As he stood there in the mid- morning sun, he closed his eyes and pictured the finished product in his head. He smiled as he envisioned himself standing behind Ginger, pushing her as she giggled with glee. He could almost see her gorgeous red locks flying back as the wind would catch them on her ascent towards the tree top. Like wise, he could see her hair whipping around her face as she would return back to him... with him catching the seat of the swing in his big burly hands. Or perhaps, he would catch her around the waist... holding her for a moment before he would eventually release her. Her pretty long legs would pump back and forth as she would catapult herself higher and higher into the air. He sighed as he heard the sound of her voice.
"Skipper! Skipper! Where are you?" Ginger's voice called into the distance. Going into a panic, the Skipper scrambled around to try and find a place to hide his wheel barrel. Luckily, there was a thicket of tall ferns that he was able to push his supplies behind, just barely masking the wheel barrel from view. He made his way toward the sound of Ginger's voice until they finally met up.
"Oh, there you are!"
"Ginger, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine... I... I've been thinking and I just wanted to thank you again for listening to me earlier this morning."
"Ginger, I told you I was happy to. No thanks is needed." He smiled and looked at her tenderly as she gazed into his eyes. His eyes were so warm... so full of life... so full of sincere tenderness. Something touched her and she felt strange inside. Things were happening so suddenly. Was it possible for one kind gesture to change her whole perception of one person? Before she could think, he had reached out and touched her face. Her heart skipped a beat from the sensation.
"I'd better get back to work," he said, interrupting her thoughts, "I've got quite a bit to do today."
"See you at lunch?"
The Skipper shook his head, "I don't think so. I'm already behind schedule."
"What's so important that you would miss a meal? Gilligan's been acting odd and secretive today too. What's going on?"
"I can't tell you. Just trust me, ok? I'm working on something really important... but it's something I'm doing in secret. Don't worry, you'll know in time."
"Can I bring you a sandwich or something?"
"Naw... there's plenty of bananas out there. I'll eat some of those if I get hungry."
"Well, ok." As Ginger tried to make her way back to camp, the Skipper likewise was getting ready to head back to his wheel barrel. The only problem was... they had seemed to get tangled up in each others way. As the Skipper veered to his left, Ginger veered to her right... putting the two of them face to face with each other. With their faces only inches apart, they saw directly into the other's eyes. They were so close they could feel each other's breath. Instinctively, Ginger placed her hands on the Skipper's forearms to make her way around him. Instinctively to him, he did the same. Now they were holding each other.
The Skipper didn't know what to do. Should he savor the moment? Should he kiss her? Or should he pull up his boot straps and head out of there before he made a real fool of himself?
