Tears poured down Ginger's face as she swung herself back and forth, going higher and higher. Every once in a while, she could hear the seat creak beneath her. Six months after her birthday, the swing wasn't as pretty now as it had been. Some of the ribbons woven through the chains had mildewed or frayed. The chains were beginning to show rust again. The Skipper had tried to maintain her little area the best he could... but with monsoons and daily tropical showers, Mother Nature had simply outwitted all of his best efforts.
Much like her swing, she assumed her relationship to the Skipper was rotting away as well. His angry words that he left her with rang in her ears.
You sit here and keep blowing your chances... I desperately hope that you're not.
So, what would happen if she really was pregnant then? Would he turn his back on her now? Would he shut her out all because she wanted to think about his proposal? What was wrong with that? She determined that if he was going to be that way about it, then she didn't need him after all. How dare he be so hot headed and impatient! She didn't need him, she decided. She would do fine just on her own... after all, she always had before.
The fact of the matter was, is that she did need him. She had grown to love him... to truly love him. It didn't have a thing to do with warm, fuzzy feelings anymore. Even now, as upset as he was at her and as upset as she was at him, she loved him.
Stopping the swing, she buried her face into her hands and wept loudly. All she wanted right now was for him to come and hold her, and to say he was sorry for the way he had blown up at her. Though, shouldn't she have been sorry too? She thought about what she had said. Though she didn't feel wrong or guilty for saying that marriage didn't appeal to her, she hadn't taken into consideration how her words must have hurt the Skipper. Surely, any man would feel the same way. A rejected proposal was nearly the same as rejecting the man himself. Perhaps she had been too hasty.
Well Ginger, what exactly is so wrong with marriage? You're not even giving it a chance. Just because your parents blew their relationship sky high doesn't mean the same will hold true for you and Jonas.
"But I'm scared," she argued with her inner self. True, sharing her life, her dreams, and her heart with another was way out of her comfort zone. The thought of throwing a baby into that mix was down right frightening. Perhaps, just maybe, the Skipper was scared too. He as much as admitted so.
She had to talk to him, but wasn't quite sure of what to say. While she was pondering this, her ears perked up as she heard footsteps coming toward her.
"Oh, there you are," the Skipper said nearly out of breath. Ginger's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Surely he had come back to apologize and to say he didn't mean all those things that he said. She was crushed though when all he said was, "Come on, I think the Professor has found a way to help us out." Without another word, the Skipper grabbed her hand and practically drug her back to camp.
...
The Skipper paced outside of the Professor's hut. What in the world was taking him so long? Every so often, he glanced over in Ginger's direction. She sat aloof at the communal table, as she impatiently drummed her fingers on the bamboo fixture.
She's as anxious as I am? The Skipper thought to himself. How he wanted to approach her... to try and talk this thing out between them. However, she had been silent since he had come to bring her back to camp. Perhaps she was in no mood to talk. After the jackass he had made of himself, he couldn't blame her for not talking to him. So, instead of seeing what was on her mind, he kept silent. Perhaps it was better that way.
...
The Professor carefully took Ginger's sample of blood, adding just a dropper full into a beaker containing a liquid of an acidic nature. It was something he had found of the far side of the island just a couple weeks ago. When he discovered it, he had no idea what to do with it. How fortunate it was that he had happened to stumble upon this find just weeks before the Skipper made his announcement of Ginger's pending condition.
After reading and studying on the rare acid, he found that many island tribes used it to indicate pregnancy among their people. True, there was only a fifty-fifty chance of it being right the first time... but it was better than nothing.
"Come on! Can't you hurry things along?" The Skipper complained from outside the door. The Professor sighed, and he slammed the beaker and the petri dish on the table. Mary Ann could feel his muscles tighten under her touch, and the Professor struggled to keep self control over his temper. The Skipper had been annoying and impatient from the moment the Professor said he could help him.
"Don't mind him, Roy," Mary Ann said gently, "I think he's just nervous. You're doing a wonderful job... really. Just try to ignore him." The Professor soon relaxed and then smiled as he looked at Mary Ann. She always knew just what to say. She was his rock.
...
After a few more minutes, the Professor emerged from his hut. Ginger slowly rose to her feet, and the Skipper stopped pacing. He stood there, mouth agape, and staring at the man of science.
"Well... what did you find?" The Skipper asked.
"According to the test I ran, it would seem that no conception had taken place," the Professor announced.
"Oh thank God!" Ginger sighed loudly and held on to the table, as if trying to hold herself up.
"Now bear in mind, that these aren't the most reliable results in the world. It may be necessary to run another test in a couple..." the Professor tried to explain, but was cut off by the Skipper.
"What's that suppose to mean?" He interjected.
"What's what suppose to mean?" Ginger asked.
"Oh, you know," the Skipper said as he imitated her, "Oh thank God!"
"Well don't take it the wrong way!"
"How am I suppose to take it? You sound like I did something awful to you. You sure weren't complaining when we were in the sack." Little did he realize it, but every face around him had turned as red as Gilligan's shirt.
"Would you stop being so oversensitive," Ginger spat, "stop victimizing yourself. Babies are a lot of work and responsibility."
"So. I'm not afraid of work... or responsibility. Are you?"
"How dare you! Are you insinuating that I'm lazy?"
"No... but I do think you might find yourself a little too good for dirty diapers and spit up."
"Oh yeah!" She said, getting into his face, "well, you're nothing but a blow hard! Just look at you! You've been yelling at the Professor all day, you're yelling at me, and you're always yelling at Gilligan. I could just see you with a baby. You'd probably yell at the poor fella every time he started crying."
"Well, at least I'm not a self absorbed Diva, who thinks she's too good to settle down with anybody." The sharp sting of Ginger's hand across his face ended this war of the words.
...
Mary Ann opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The next thing she knew, she was in tears. "Stop it!" She yelled, as she turned away from everyone. Immediately, and almost instinctively, Gilligan rushed to her side and pulled her into his arms. The reaction took Mary Ann completely off guard. She tried not to read too much into Gilligan's actions. After all, he was a very sweet, very caring boy. He may have embraced anyone.
Oh no! This is not fair. She thought as she relaxed in Gilligan's arms. Burying her face into his chest, she could feel his warmth as she took in his natural scent of sea salt and coconut soap. He can't start caring now. The Professor and I have come so far. I think things are actually starting to get serious. How can I have feelings for two men? It doesn't make sense. I really love Roy... don't I?
...
The Professor took no notice of Mary Ann wrapped in Gilligan's arms. Instead he focused his attention on two supposedly intelligent adults acting like two years. Ginger and the Skipper both were facing away from each other with scowls on their faces and arms crossed. If there was one thing the Professor couldn't stand it was immaturity. They were both being petty. They had to get it together. There was always that chance that Ginger could actually be pregnant. Then what? Would that child be born in the midst of a mini war zone?
"Now look you two," he said sternly to the both of them, "you two had better work out your differences and you had better do it quickly. What the two of you decide to do with your personal relationship is up to you, but you need to find a way to get along. This negativity and hostility is detrimental to the rest of the group. Anger is a poison. Pretty soon, I would predict the rest of us choosing sides on your little dilemma and turning on each other. Our survival has always depended on us working together, and we can't be divided now... especially for the two of you. As I was saying before, I'll need to retest Ginger in a couple of days. The outcome may not be negative next time."
Slowly, Ginger and the Skipper lowered their arms. They turned and looked at each other, speaking not a word. The Skipper was ready to reach out and take Ginger into his arms, but instead he turned and sulked back to his hut. As Ginger fought her tears, she turned and quietly entered her hut. The Professor just stood there, shaking his head in disbelief.
...
Two days later...
The Skipper had been trudging through the jungle and running things through his mind. So much had happened in just two days. One minute he was in a relationship with the girl of his dreams, and the next he had completely destroyed everything. He thought perhaps if he kept walking he might just find a nice, steep cliff to fall off of.
He and Ginger hadn't spoken to each other in two days. The atmosphere around camp was filled with uneasiness and tension. The Professor had been right. Somehow, he had to fix this... well, at least attempt to make things right. In the very beginning of their relationship he had promised her that they would always be friends and nothing would get in the way of that.
He found her down by the lagoon. She looked sad as she sat in the sand, her knees drawn up to her chest as she stared blankly up at the sky.
"Hello," he said as he placed a timid hand on her shoulder.
"Hello," was her only reply as she looked at him. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments before she spoke again, "I really am pregnant. I found out just this morning." Soon, her body shook as tears rolled down her face. The Skipper's stubborn indifference melted away as he slipped his arms around her and held her close. She settled herself into his embrace as she clung to his shirt. It felt good to be held by him... yet she couldn't forget the awful things they had said to each other just a couple days before.
"Jonas, I'm so sorry for being so hateful to you," she said, as she reluctantly reached up to touch his face. A lump formed in the Skipper's throat. The very cheek that had been slapped two days ago was now being tenderly caressed.
"I'm sorry too, Ginger... I really do love you. I love you so much... and I don't think you're a self-absorbed Diva. My feelings were just hurt. First, you turn down coming to live with me, then you act like not having my baby is the greatest news in the world. Well... you know how I am. You know my reputation. I couldn't show you or the other's how hurt I was. I do have my pride after all."
"I think I understand," Ginger said, smiling slightly. "You know, I never did give your proposal a fair consideration. How do I know I'm not made for marriage or family life? I've never done it. If the offer still stands... I accept."
"Are you sure you're not changing your mind just because of the recent change of events?"
"No," she replied, "I really love you too. To be honest, I've never been in a serious relationship before... was too busy weighing my options. Before I met you, if a man would have talked to me the way you did he would have been out the door. I wouldn't have looked back. My heart has been broken over you for the last two days. I love you... and I need you."
"What about the baby? The idea of having a child isn't that terrible, is it?"
"No," Ginger said as she climbed into the Skipper's lap, "I think I can get used to it. After all, I had always hoped to one day be a mother. I guess I just never dreamed it would be here, on a deserted island of all places."
"I'll take very good care of the both of you," the Skipper said, holding Ginger closer, "now, I know for a fact that Gilligan is off butterfly hunting. Mr. and Mrs. Howell are bird watching. Mary Ann and the Professor are exploring caves on the other side of the island. How about I take you to our home where we can make up properly."
"Skipper," she purred, "I do love the way you think."