Chapter 6

Claude peeked out of Gilligan's collar as the First Mate picked his way along the overgrown jungle path. "Does everyone in your world eat lobsters?" he asked.

"No, not everyone," Gilligan replied, tucking in his chin so that he could see the little lobster's face. "But everyone on this island does."

"That's what I meant," said Claude. "I don't know of any other worlds."

Gilligan smiled. "Well, like I said, this island is where we ended up after we were shipwrecked. There is another world out there, a world even bigger than this one."

"Even bigger?" the little lobster's eyes widened.

"Yep, even bigger," said Gilligan. "But you know what? You might not believe this, Claude, but your world is the biggest one of all. There's more ocean covering this planet than there is land. There's more of your kind than there is of mine. I bet you didn't know that."

Claude peered out of Gilligan's collar at the passing scenery. "No, I did not know that," he murmured.

"That's why we fish," Gilligan said. "That's why we eat your kind, because we figure that there'll always be enough of you. Of course now we know that's not true- if we fish too much, your kind won't be able to keep up with the hunger of our kind."

"Like your friend, the Skipper," said Claude.

"Just like the Skipper," Gilligan smiled. "Imagine a whole world full of hungry Skippers!"

"It would be a disaster," Claude muttered.

Gilligan nodded. "There'd be nothing left," he agreed.

Claude watched the sky flashing past through the overhanging branches. "We call this place the Big Blue," he said. "We're scared of it, because no one ever comes back."

"Well, now you know what happens," Gilligan replied.

"I guess I do," Claude said, quietly. "Thank you for being honest."

Gilligan lifted his hand and stroked the little lobster's pincer affectionately. "I'll always be truthful with you, Claude. But don't be too worried- I know it's hard to understand, but even though they want to eat you, they don't hate you."

Claude blinked up at his human friend. "That's not much consolation, Gilligan, but thank you anyway."

Gilligan jumped over a fallen tree log. "Don't you guys eat each other in your world, too?"

"Yeah," Claude said, quietly. "We have octopuses and sharks and stuff like that. Momma's favourite saying is, 'it's a fish-eat-fish world out there'." He sank down against Gilligan's chest. "It's hard being a lobster sometimes," he sighed, sounding older than his years.

"It's hard being a human, too," Gilligan agreed. "Doing stuff we know is wrong, but doing it anyway."

"Is there anything in your world that eats humans?" the little lobster asked.

Gilligan thought for a moment. "Headhunters," he replied, with a shudder. "Headhunters are humans who eat other humans."

"Yikes," said Claude, and he shuddered too.

"And tigers," Gilligan went on. "But we don't have any tigers here."

Claude opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. A few more moments passed in silence while Gilligan made his way carefully down the path.

"How's your Daddy doing? He's being awful quiet," the First Mate said at last.

"He's okay," Claude replied. "He's thinking."

"Thinking about home, I'll bet. That's what I always think about. Mom and Dad and my brother and sister and even my dog. I think about them all the time."

"It's hard to be away from home," said Claude.

"Yeah," said Gilligan. "It is."

The path narrowed and became more rocky. Gilligan kept his eyes peeled to the ground as he jumped and skipped over fallen branches and small boulders, hugging the lobsters close to his body with both arms.

"What's a dog?" asked Claude, presently.

"A dog is a furry creature with four legs. We keep them as pets."

"Do they eat lobsters too?"

"They eat anything," said Gilligan. "They're greedy."

Claude made a clicking noise with his face plates. "It seems like everything eats lobsters," he said, miserably. "We must taste real good, huh."

Gilligan pursed his lips and the corners of his mouth turned down. "I used to think so," he muttered, guiltily. "Until I met one I could talk to."

Gilligan came out of the jungle into a small clearing. With his eyes still scanning the ground, he came upon two strange looking rocks. Two slender, pointed, glittery silver rocks that matched each other perfectly.

"What the- ?" he mumbled.

"Hello, Gilligan," came the sultry tones of Ginger Grant, movie star.

Gilligan raised his eyes from the tips of Ginger's high heeled shoes. His gaze travelled up her legs, over her voluptuous hips clad in shimmering gold fabric, past her slender waist and ample cleavage, and finally settled on her perfect, oval face.

"Hi, Ginger," he said, resignedly.

Ginger sashayed closer. Gilligan pushed the two lobsters round his body and into the small of his back where they nestled against the base of his spine. He backed away warily from Ginger.

"Gilligan," Ginger sang, seductively, "what have you done with those two adorable, itty bitty, cute little lobster wobsters?"

"I hid them," Gilligan said, assertively. "So that none of you can eat them!"

Ginger's lower lip protruded. "But I just want to see them," she pouted.

"Yeah, like a cat wants to see a mouse," Gilligan retorted.

Ginger sidled even closer. "Oh, Gilligan! That's not very nice! I thought we were friends?"

"Yeah, so did I," Gilligan muttered, retreating still further.

"Come on, Gilligan." Ginger extended her smooth, ivory skinned hand and ran her slender fingers slowly up Gilligan's arm and onto his shoulder. "You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours." Her fingernails began to scrape gently on Gilligan's shoulderblade.

Gilligan shrugged his shoulder and edged away from Ginger's hand. "No thanks," he said, tersely. "Remember what happened the last time you scratched my back? I got into a whole mess of trouble!"

Ginger tilted her chin and laughed musically. "But I found your sweet spot, didn't I?"

Gilligan felt his neck go hot. "Yeah, you did. And that's why I'm never letting you do it again!"

Ginger's green eyes narrowed playfully. Gilligan's reluctance didn't seem to deter her one bit- she kept moving closer and closer until she was practically in the First Mate's arms.

"How about a little kiss?" she uttered, pursing her lips. Her fingers traced over Gilligan's torso, making him squirm.

At the same time, unbeknownst to the teasing temptress, Claude was crawling his way up Gilligan's back, using his pincers to hold onto the fabric of the First Mate's undershirt.

"Ha ha ha!" Gilligan laughed, suddenly. "That tickles!"

Ginger grinned, thinking he meant her. She dug her fingertips gently into Gilligan's ribs. "How about that?" she purred.

"That tickles, too!" Gilligan giggled, as Claude reached his armpit.

Ginger gave a breathy laugh. "I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking, Gilligan," she smiled. "Now, about that little kiss..."

Ginger rested her hands on Gilligan's chest with her slim fingers spread across his shirt. She put her face right in front of Gilligan's and formed her plump, pink lips into a perfect 'o'. Just as she leaned forward to plant a wet one on Gilligan's mouth, Claude emerged from the open neck of Gilligan's collar and snapped his pincer loudly, right in front of her nose.

The movie star screamed in horror and jerked her head back. "What on earth?" she cried.

"Ginger, meet Claude," Gilligan grinned, triumphantly.

"Claude?" Ginger fixed the little lobster with a glittering green eyed stare. "That...that thing has a name?"

Claude stared back at Ginger and then looked up at Gilligan. "Is that a tiger?" he asked.

"No," Gilligan replied, his hand placed protectively over his little friend. "Tigers are less dangerous."

"I'll give you 'Claude'," said Ginger, her eyes flashing. She reached for a butterfly net that she had hidden behind a nearby coconut tree. "Or better still, you'll give me Claude, and we can go back to camp and pretend none of this ever happened!"

"No can do, Ginger," Gilligan responded. "I'm not letting any of you eat these lobsters. Friends don't eat friends!"

Ginger moved forward, clutching the handle of the butterfly net. "They aren't my friends," she said, stubbornly. "They're my dinner!"

"Look!" cried Gilligan, suddenly pointing into the air above Ginger's right shoulder. "Rock Hudson in a helicopter!"

Ginger dropped the butterfly net and whirled around, instinctively striking a Hollywood pose, her teeth gleaming whitely in a perfect, silver screen smile. When she saw that there was nothing there but jungle and more jungle, she realised she'd been tricked. She spun back around to find that Gilligan and the lobsters were gone.

"Ooh!" she hissed, her fingers clenching into fists. "Ooh, that little..."

"He got you too, huh, Ginger?" came a familiar, gruff voice from behind her. The Skipper came trotting into the clearing clutching the empty bucket, which now had a big dent in it from being hurled to the ground in a temper.

Ginger threw her arms in the air. "I can't understand it, Skipper! When did Gilligan get so smart?"

The Skipper lifted an eyebrow. "Rock Hudson in a helicopter?"

Ginger's face fell. "I guess the question ought to be- when did I get so dumb?"

The Skipper patted the crestfallen movie star's shoulder. "Never mind, Ginger," he said, sympathetically. "He tricked me too. The hunger must be slowing our brains down."

"So what's Gilligan's excuse?" Ginger pouted, as the two of them left the clearing in the same direction as Gilligan.

"Gilligan?" the Skipper grinned. "His brain was slow to begin with!"

oOoOoOo

Not so far away, Mary Ann was making her way into the jungle, looking for Gilligan to warn him that the others were on his trail. She also wanted to apologise to him for making it look as though she was take their side over the lobsters. She wanted to tell him that her friendship with him was too important to ruin it with silly arguments. No other boy she'd ever met would think twice about whether a lobster had a consciousness or not. Any other boy would have thought it was sissy to talk to animals the way Gilligan did, as if he could understand everything they were saying.

There were so many things she wanted to tell Gilligan. There always had been.

Even further away, but catching up quickly, the Professor was making his way into the jungle. He couldn't let Mary Ann go wandering off on her own, not in the mood she was in. He'd seen that look on her face before- that look of grim determination. It was like a female version of Gilligan's look of grim determination. Besides, he couldn't stay at the huts all by himself, it just didn't feel right.

He smiled to himself as he picked his way gingerly through the undergrowth. At last I got what I wanted, a bit of peace and quiet, and suddenly I don't want it any more.

oOoOoOo

"So who was that, Gilligan?"

Gilligan wasn't sure, but he thought there was a hint of teasing in the little lobster's voice.

"That was Ginger Grant," Gilligan sighed.

"Does she like you?" Claude pressed.

"Only when she wants something," Gilligan said, wearily.

"So she's not like Mary Ann, then," Claude persisted.

Gilligan snorted loudly. "She's as much like Mary Ann as you're like a killer whale."

"Wow," said Claude. "That's not alike at all!"

"Ginger's a movie star, she acts all the time," Gilligan went on. "Movies are when people act like other people in front of a camera. The camera makes a movie out of them and you watch the movie on a giant screen in a place called a movie theatre. It's called 'entertainment'."

Claude held on to Gilligan's collar as the First Mate jogged along the path. He watched avidly as the sights and sounds of the jungle streaked past.

"Are we in a movie?" he asked.

"No," said Gilligan. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you sure are keeping me entertained!" Claude laughed, and tapped Gilligan affectionately on the cheek.

Gilligan smiled wryly. "I'm glad you're having fun while I'm busy trying to keep us all out of trouble."

Claude nestled his head in the hollow behind Gilligan's collarbone. "I can't wait to tell everyone back home about you," he said. "Daddy thinks I'm crazy talking to you, he says he never had a nightmare like this, even after the seaweed juice."

Gilligan chuckled. "Your Daddy sounds like the Skipper, kinda."

Claude laughed delightedly. "Yeah," he replied. "It's a shame they can't be friends."

Gilligan laughed too. "Maybe it's a relief they can't be friends," he grinned. "But we don't know yet- the Skipper would change his mind if he knew how swell you guys were!"

Some more time passed in companionable silence.

"You know," said Claude, "in my world, we hear such terrible stories about the Big Blue. But from what I can see, the Big Blue is also beautiful, too."

Gilligan looked down at his little lobster friend. "It's funny how you call my world 'the Big Blue'. I guess you mean the sky. Because to us, your world is also a big blue, and very beautiful, and yet plenty of my kind disappear into your world and never come back."

"Like when they get shipwrecked?" asked Claude, his eyes wide.

"Yeah," Gilligan answered. "Shipwrecked, drowned, or eaten by sharks."

"Sharks must be like tigers," said Claude. "Everyone's afraid of them."

"Danger lies everywhere," Gilligan nodded, sagely.

Claude fell silent. Then he began to tell Gilligan about the Cage of Death and The Moving Pillars of Doom.

"You mean my legs?" Gilligan said, incredulously. "My legs are the Moving Pillars of Doom?"

Claude nodded.

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," the First Mate mused. "I'm not a bad guy. I just..." his face fell. "I just collect the lobster traps."

Claude swallowed nervously. "The Cages of Death," he uttered in a small voice.

Gilligan's heart sank. "I can see why those legends exist," he said, mournfully. "I don't know how I can ever apologise."

"It's not your fault," said Claude, stroking the side of Gilligan's neck. "You didn't know."

Gilligan's jaw set tight. "I feel like destroying every lobster trap we ever built," he said, grimly.

Claude's feelers trembled at Gilligan's sudden flash of anger. "Well, at least you've told me what they are. We thought they were mysterious living creatures."

"You know what?" Gilligan said, determinedly. "Any time I have to set a lobster trap in the future, I'm gonna make sure there's an escape route. People don't like being caught in traps, so why should we do it to you guys? I'll make sure the trap door opens up just enough for you to get out."

"That would be swell and all," said Claude, "but why set them in the first place?"

"Because," said Gilligan, "I won't be able to convince the others to live on bananas and coconuts for the rest of their lives. I'll just fix the traps, and you tell all your buddies to stay away from them. And if I come out and find any of you in the traps, I'll set you free."

"I don't know what to say," Claude said, in his tiny voice. "You'd rather go against your kind to help my kind? That takes guts."

"I don't know if it's guts," Gilligan replied. "It's just something I want to do. Besides, I love bananas, and I love Mary Ann's coconut crème pies. I could happily live on those two things forever."

"You're a great guy, Gilligan," said Claude, snuggling into Gilligan's chest. "You're welcome in my world any time. I'll tell everyone about you and you'll be a hero!"

Gilligan's ears pricked up and a grin spread across his face. "A hero? Gosh, I've always wanted to be a hero!"

"Well, now you are," laughed Claude. "You're my hero."

Gilligan leapt over a tree stump and began to run with a new spring in his step. He could see the ocean sparkling through the trees and knew he'd soon be at his destination.

He was so busy looking at the ocean that he didn't see two figures lurking in the bushes just ahead. Two figures wearing pith helmets and safari suits, and brandishing a butterfly net.

"Here he comes, Lovey," the millionaire chuckled, keeping his beady eye on the approaching First Mate. "Get ready!"