The Professor couldn't help wondering if Mrs. Howell would pull him and Ginger aside for a private conversation next. Of course, they weren't as young and innocent as Gilligan and Mary Ann, and she didn't know they'd spent the night together, with far less excuse.
It had been an incredible night, perhaps the most incredible of his life, which was saying something, considering all his adventures on the island. He didn't know if it was the beginning of something or just one magical night, but he was sure he would always treasure it.
But he was not too swept away to not be curious about how Gilligan and Mary Ann had spent the night. He had seen them so briefly that morning that it was impossible to observe anything conclusive. They were not doting on each other, but maybe they felt self-conscious in front of the other castaways. On the other hand, they didn't seem to be on bad terms, since they'd returned together.
He wanted to discuss this all with Ginger, but the Skipper said, "Could I have a word with you, Professor?"
"Of course, Skipper." He looked at Ginger, wishing he could kiss her goodbye but he felt too self-conscious in front of the Skipper and Mr. Howell. He wasn't even sure what he could safely say.
She said, "Thanks for stopping by, Professor. I appreciate the weather forecast."
He wasn't sure if there was a subtext to that or if it was just a white lie to fool the other two men. He just said, "You're welcome," and walked over to the Skipper.
He let the captain lead him to the sailors' hut. He was surprised at first. They were less likely to be interrupted in his own hut, especially by Gilligan. But maybe the Skipper wanted to wait for Gilligan, who would have to return sometime. Actually, the young man had looked very sleepy, as if he'd been up all night, or at least had done something physically exhausting. The Professor stifled a yawn as he thought that Gilligan probably wanted to crawl into his hammock for a few hours.
They soon sat down in the Skipper's hut. Without any preamble, the Skipper said, "So what do you think of all this?"
The Professor hesitated, unsure what the Skipper meant by all, or this.
"Look, I don't know if Ginger told you, but those weren't dance lessons."
"Yes, I know." He could admit that, even though Ginger wasn't the one he first heard it from.
"OK. Well, I shouldn't be telling you this, since it's pretty personal, but Gilligan spending the night with Mary Ann has complicated things."
The Professor naturally wondered what the Skipper had to tell him, although he wasn't sure if he wanted to learn yet another personal fact about one or more of the other castaways. "Go on."
"Well, yesterday Gilligan told me he thinks he's in love with Ginger."
The Professor didn't have Ginger's acting skills, but he was able to appear unemotional. So he managed to say, "I see," as if this was new but not startling information.
"But he spent the night with Mary Ann, so I don't know what to think anymore."
"Well, there was a storm. They probably couldn't come back until morning."
"What were they doing out there in the first place? Why wasn't he out with Ginger?"
The Professor didn't want to lie and say he didn't know, so he said, "It is peculiar."
The Skipper snorted. "Yeah, peculiar. And now Mrs. Howell is sticking her oar in and I don't know how to get my little buddy out of this mess."
"It'll probably all work out."
The Skipper shook his head. "As much as I miss sex, I don't miss the trouble it causes." The Professor didn't know what to say, and then the Skipper added, "You don't know how lucky you are."
It was not the moment, if there ever would be one, to tell the Skipper about how the Professor had spent the night, particularly given the Skipper's infatuation with Ginger. Perhaps, when all this with Gilligan was sorted out, the Skipper could be happy for the Professor, but the news could wait. Besides, Roy would need at least one full night's sleep before he could thoroughly analyze the ramifications of coitus with Ginger.
"Well, anyway, now that the kids are back, I'm gonna try to get some shuteye until Gilligan is ready to explain to me what's going on."
The Professor knew that sailors had to be able to get to sleep quickly, sometimes in short bursts, but he was still surprised that the Skipper could want to sleep with so much unresolved. However, he guessed that if the Skipper had waited up for Gilligan to return from a date with Ginger, the captain had lost a lot of sleep.
"Get some rest, Skip," the Professor said and got to his feet.
"Thanks, you, too," the Skipper said, making the Professor wonder if the captain knew more than he let on. Or maybe the Skipper thought the Professor had also stayed up all night worrying.
The Professor wondered if he could visit Ginger again without drawing attention. No one was in sight. He wondered how long a talking-to Mrs. Howell would give Gilligan and Mary Ann.
He approached the girls' hut cautiously. He was about to knock when he heard Ginger speaking too softly for him to distinguish any words. A male voice quietly replied. The Professor assumed it was Gilligan. It obviously wasn't the Skipper and it was unlikely that it was Mr. Howell.
The Professor was understandably curious about this conversation, but he'd give them their privacy. He assumed Ginger would tell him about it later, unless she promised not to. He just hoped Gilligan wouldn't want to talk to him about it.
As he stepped away from Ginger's door, his stomach growled. He deduced that if Gilligan was back from the Howells', then Mary Ann might be making breakfast.
He wandered over to the kitchen, and not just to check on when she'd be serving the food. They wouldn't be able to talk very privately, but they probably should check in with each other after the eventful night.
He was startled to see Mr. Howell attempting to scramble eggs. When he got over his surprise, he offered, "Would you like some help with that?" When the Professor lived on his own, he'd learned the basics of cooking. It was not dissimilar from science, if much less compelling.
"Thank you, Professor, but I seem to be the only one who got a full night's sleep. Lovey and the rest of you stayed up worrying about Gilligan and Mary Ann."
Rather than deny this, the Professor said, "And you didn't?"
The millionaire chuckled. "I knew they wouldn't lose their lives, or anything else."
The Professor didn't feel up to this conversation. He just said, "Thank you for making breakfast. I'll take a quick nap and come back in a little while." He wasn't sure how good Mr. Howell's cooking would be, especially if he had to reheat it, but the Professor could make his own breakfast if need be. Right now sleep sounded like a great idea.
Mr. Howell waved goodbye distractedly, now focusing on the toast, which looked a little burnt.
The Professor shook his head and went to his hut. He was momentarily surprised to find someone there, but then it made perfect sense.