Mary Jane and the Monkey
Believe me, most mornings it comes as a relief to learn I'm awake. When dawn wells up in the sky, she knots me together.
Gilligan's Wake: A Novel by Tom Carson
Four
Over the next few weeks, Gilligan was plagued by nightmares of his ordeal. Barely able to sleep through the night, it eventually became nearly impossible for him to fall asleep at all. Ginger sang him lullabies, the Professor made another batch of the sleeping potion, Mr. Howell gave him sleeping pills, and Mrs. Howell gave him Mr. Howell's teddy bear. The Skipper even ordered him to go to sleep, but nothing could convince his eyes to stay closed like a good story.
Sometimes he would dream that Mary Ann, pinned to the palm tree by Kincaid's rifle, had refused to give him up and that Kincaid had, indeed, begun hunting rabbits.
On these nights, Gilligan awoke with a heartbroken gasp and jumped from his hammock. He would race across the clearing, slipping in the deep sand, and barge into the girls' hut just to make sure she was still there.
The girls would usher him inside and lay him down on Mary Ann's bed, his head in her lap and Ginger would listen as Mary Ann told stories until all three of them were sound asleep.
Sometimes he would dream that Kincaid had succeeded in capturing his prey. Oddly, these dreams weren't as bad as the other kind and they didn't jolt Gilligan awake. Instead, he would toss and turn in his hammock and unintentionally fling Teddy across the hut, groaning and whimpering until the Skipper couldn't stand to listen to it any longer.
On these nights, the Skipper would gently wake Mary Ann and bring her back to the crew's hut, apologizing the whole way. Mary Ann would stand by Gilligan's hammock and gently run her hand over his forehead while whispering to him. The Skipper would sit at the table watching, feeling as helpless as he was sure she felt trapped in the cave that day.
On nights when Gilligan was particularly agitated, Mary Ann eventually became exhausted, but refused to leave until he was calm, so the Skipper would pick both her and Teddy up and gently deposit them in the upper hammock next to the troubled sailor. The captain would climb into his hammock and watch as Gilligan instantly seemed to know she was there and curl up at her side.
He'd lay his head on her shoulder as Mary Ann hugged Teddy to her chest and gazed up at the ceiling, the hammock swaying gently beneath them.
Inevitably, the Skipper would hear the familiar opening phrase, "Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived on a farm in Oklahoma named Mary Jane Winters," followed by an unconscious sleepy laugh and a contented sigh.
Mary Ann would feign annoyance and murmur her expected lines, "Be quiet, Gilligan. It's a good story. Now, listen."
On the sixth consecutive night of Mary Ann having to recount this same story to get Gilligan calm enough to sleep through the night, she paused before launching into her tale. She turned to peer down at the captain through the woven hemp of the upper hammock. "Sorry, Skipper," she whispered.
"Don't be, Mary Ann." He yawned and pulled his hat down over his face. "I love that story."
From then on, when the castaways were gathered around the fire after dinner talking and singing songs, thousands of tiny stars glittering brightly overhead, Gilligan would undoubtedly ask for a Mary Ann story and before he could place a request, one of the other castaways would demand to hear about Mary Jane and the monkey. Again. And they would sit in rapt attention, repeatedly reliving the spectacular victory of a little girl and her best friend over pure evil.
Fin