It had been quite a month for Gilligan. No, it hadn't even been four weeks since Ginger saved his life and offered to make him a great lover. And here he was in the middle of a storm, and sort of on his honeymoon. He couldn't help wondering what the next few weeks would bring. Maybe he'd be home again, wherever home was these days. Kansas, Hawaii, or back on their island?
He slept surprisingly well once he fell asleep, the tiny ship rocking more roughly than a cradle, but he was used to sleeping in a hammock, so he didn't mind even the floor. It looked like he was the last to wake up the next morning, well, except for Mrs. Howell, who was dozing on the couch. He woke to the smell of Mary Ann's cooking. His nose would know it anywhere.
"Mmm, fried Spam!" he cried happily.
Mr. Howell made a noise of disgust but he had spent most of his life accustomed to Eydie Gormé dining. Gilligan wasn't that fussy.
"I though it might taste better fried."
"I like it any way you serve it, but fried sounds good."
"Oh, Gilligan," she said fondly. It hit him for the first time that that tone, which he'd heard so often over the past three years, was coming from his bride, his wife. If he'd had any doubts that she had married him just because Mrs. Howell thought she should, they were gone now.
Mr. Howell shook his head and gently touched his wife's shoulder. "Lovey, wake up."
Mrs. Howell sat up, yawned, and stretched. "Are we there yet?"
"No, it's breakfast time."
Mrs. Howell sniffed. "Oh, er, I'm afraid I'm on a diet."
It seemed like a funny time to go on a diet, but Gilligan couldn't help thinking that it would make the food last longer if it was for six and a half people instead of seven.
Mr. Howell said, "Yes, I'm afraid my appetite isn't too hearty right now. Maybe after I get used to the sea again."
As it turned out, no one ate much at breakfast, except Gilligan, who had to try not to eat more than his share. Even the Skipper ate less than usual. Maybe everyone was already tired of Spam, or maybe the storm was upsetting their stomachs.
By lunchtime though, the storm seemed less severe. The Skipper went up on deck to take a look. Gilligan felt like he should go with him, as first mate. But he also felt obligated to stay by Mary Ann's side, to comfort her as her husband, even though he didn't know what to say.
He looked at her but she gestured that he should follow the Skipper, so he did. And it wasn't like he was leaving her alone and unprotected, or that he was going that far away.
He joined the Skipper at the railing, gazing out at the seemingly endless ocean. He waited for the Skipper to speak but his friend said nothing.
Gilligan cleared his throat and asked, "Where do you think we are?"
The Skipper shook his head. "I don't know. I can't see anything out there, just water."
Gilligan nodded. Water surrounding the ship, water falling from the sky.
"All I know is, I don't think we can get back to our island, except by accident. So when I can steer, I'm going to aim for Hawaii. We may not get there but I'm gonna try."
Gilligan admired his captain's courage, all the braver for the doubts. "Skipper, I want to help." He didn't know how but he had to.
"Of course, Little Buddy. You'll always be my first mate."
Gilligan was touched. He knew then he could never leave the Skipper, not for Horner's Corners or anywhere. Mary Ann would have to understand. He had a different sort of commitment to the Skipper, like family. She probably would understand. She was a sweet girl and she was very fond of the Skipper. Plus, she seemed to want Gilligan to do what he wanted, like with letting Ginger train him. If Gilligan wanted to live in Hawaii and work for the Skipper again, she would stay by his side and support that.
"I will," he promised.
"Good. For now, let's head downstairs and get the maps and the compass and other things I packed away."
"Did you— did you think this would happen, Skipper?" If so, why didn't he warn them?
The Skipper sighed. "After so many years as a sailor, I know how unpredictable the sea can be. I didn't expect this to happen, no. But I knew it could, even if it was just a tenth of a percent. Mostly though, I hoped that someday we could take a little cruise, explore for a few days to see what's near our island."
"Me and you?"
"Well, yeah. After you came back from your honeymoon."
Gilligan blushed. He wasn't getting a honeymoon now, not a real one, not even in a cave. But maybe if they landed somewhere, not necessarily Hawaii, but somewhere big enough for him and Mary Ann to have some privacy, they could. They hadn't been alone since that one night and now he didn't know when they would be again. But for now, survival was most important.
They headed downstairs and he helped the Skipper find what they needed to sail this ship. The Skipper did his best not to either get the passengers' hopes up, or to dash them. He said nothing about Hawaii and Gilligan did his best not to blurt it out. Even to Mary Ann, he pretended that they just hoped to find land. He felt disloyal to her, but he worried that if he told her, she'd tell Ginger, who'd tell the Howells and the Professor. And he still had a duty to his captain.
Maybe someday he'd tell her, years from now when they were old and gray, or maybe in a week when they arrived in Honolulu Harbor. But not now, not yet. And it wasn't as if they had any privacy to talk anyway.