"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XVII…

The Skipper, looking over some items in box from the Minnow, seated by the ground bonfire pit, greeted Karen as she came down the rope section of the ladder from the boat deck. Her rather ragged old shirt now replaced by a spare of Gilligan's red.

"Good morning, Miss. Hey, there's a couple of eggs, some bread, and a hamburger for you for breakfast if you're hungry." He indicated the grub near the still low-burning fire. "Just toss a little wood on the fire, pan's right there. There's water in the canteen there or coconut milk in that jug."

"Starved, thanks…" Karen came over, taking up pan. "Steve and the others leave for the village?"

"Sure did. They wanted to get an early start. We'd've woken you but Steve thought you needed to sleep some."

"I did…Thanks. And thanks for letting me use that air mattress last night on deck. It was heavenly after all those months on the ground or straw." She cracked the eggs into the pan and added the burger patty, setting on a large flat stone by the fire, then hurled some wood in, watching the flames rise and setting the pan on the grill the Skipper had lain on some stones. "That smells divine." She sighed, sniffing. "Thanks for sharing your stuff, I know three more mouths are a burden."

"No problem. After all, there's food around and we at least have some stuff to catch it with. The refrigerated food wouldn't last that long in any case. Just lucky we'd loaded up supplies before the charter." Genial smile. "Sorry we didn't have another bed available but your friend's pretty much taking up what we got."

"Nah…Todd needs it more. And the mattress really was great." She sat, shifting the food in pan on the grill with a spatula from the box in which the pan and grub had sat.

"How's the boy doing? He seemed to be sleeping all right this morning."

"Yeah, I guess he's as well as we could expect." She paused.

The Skipper nodding…Kindly tone… "So, he was injured by a friend? One of the folks who took the remaining boat and fled without you?"

"Yeah…" Karen agreed, quickly. "The bastards just left us. But they probably didn't get far in that thing."

Well, true enough for the five assholes who lit out in said last working motorboat…Sorry, the rest of you… It's for your own safety.

"People get desperate in situations like these." Grumbie sighed, eyeing her nervous look.

Yep. Just as Gill and I figured after hearing their stories last night. These two are lying about something. Several somethings, likely.

"I guess…" Karen nodded. "But it's hard to forgive 'em, after all we'd been through together…"

"Люди такие, какие они есть." Grumbie, in Russian, with warm smile.

"What?" She eyed him.

"Sorry. An old proverb in Russian…'People are what they are'." He noted.

Ok, she's good or really doesn't know Russian, he smiled at her. "Careful with those eggs, that fire's hot."

"Yeah." She hurried to lift pan. "Just about right." She looked about.

"I saw that big bellowing guy on the deck…Crumpt…Did everyone else go?"

"Ms. Wholesomeby's still below, checking on clothes."

She nodded.

"So, you've never seen any other sign of the natives who built that village?" he asked, setting down the box he'd been rummaging through.

"If they did…" she shrugged. "It doesn't look like anyone's ever really lived there."

"You said before you thought it looked fake. Like a tourist's version…A Potemkin village, sorta?"

"Yeah…" she eyed him, a bit narrowly.

Again, with the Russian stuff…

Balinkoff did say this place was once a CIA base…Could it be? This old guy? A Russkie, checking us out? It could be they're interested and God knows, stranger things have happened to us.

"But who would build something like that? Could this place have been a tourist resort or something?" the Skipper, puzzled look. "It's a little far off the charts for that."

"Maybe it's another billionaire's playpen." She shrugged. "But we saw no signs of anyone using it or living here. Could be the resort closed or the billionaire croaked or got bored. And you…You guys just found the place by luck?"

"Not exactly…" Grumbie shrugged. "I think I mentioned last night I knew there was an island here, passed by it during my Navy days. But thank God I remembered it."

"Sure. We were lucky too, I guess. We've drowned if we hadn't found it after we escaped the last place."

"That sounded like a nightmare…" the Skipper, sympathetically. "What kind of crazy bastard hunts people for sport? And he even blew up his house to spite you?"

"He had it booby-trapped, on a timer, just in case he ever had to flee Interpol or something. We were lucky to find out before it went off, but after that we couldn't stay, the place was a wreck."

"A shame…" he nodded. "You might have been able to repair his equipment and get home. Well, lets hope things work out for us all now."

"I hope so. We've sure earnt an end to all this…" she sighed, forking her food onto a paper plate and starting to eat.

"God, this is good…I haven't had an egg in over a year…"

"No other chickens and so, eggs, but that one you all saw running around?" he asked, curious tone.

"None that we found. Probably just a few left from the natives, running around in the jungle."

"Lets hope so…" smile. "So, it's been…Coconuts, monkeys, lizards, some wild herbs…Fish?"

"Pretty much, when we could catch them." She shrugged. "We did catch a wild pig last year…God that was good. I was so hungry I could've eaten it raw." Rueful smile.

"But we've had worse…" she sighed. "Lots worse…" she eyed him.

"That's rough." Nod. "I've been shipwrecked three times…Once we had to deal with a little cannibalism, I'm afraid. I know how it can be…"

"Yeah…" sigh.

"Any chance you think your friends, if they made it to the shipping lanes or an island, might send help?" he eyed her.

"Those bastards…?" frown. "Not a chance…"

"People change when they're safe. They were friends, right?"

"Some were. Some were just jerks we had to hang with. Some I never got to know." Shrug.

"Really? In three years together?"

"We kept to our tribes. And some got left behind or chose to stay on the other islands."

"Hello!" Mary's cheery voice from the ladder… "Skipper?! I sorted through all the clothes and found some things suitable for a Christian woman to wear…Plus some for any heathen." She lifted two plastic bags.

"That's wonderful, thanks Miss Wholesomeby. Bring them down and we'll sort them out."

"All right. Good morning, Mrs. Cushman! Sorry not to greet you sooner! Did you sleep well?!"

"Just fine…" Karen nodded, looking up with as much a smile as she could muster.

This one I won't be able to tolerate very much longer…

But if Balinkoff gets his project done in the next few and keeps his word…We all get a free ride home. So long as you and yours seem on the up-and-up, 'skipper', she glanced his way as he moved to help Miss Wholesomeby down the ladder.

I'd want an experienced navy man and his mate along to be sure we make it this time, after all. And there should be room for your passengers.

If you are what you seem…

…And then, after I see my honey and the kids and love them to near death…I'll come back here like Number Six, save anyone I can, and burn this place to the ground, Balinkoff and his 'dream' with it.

…

"I see why you weren't too keen on hiking up to the falls for a shower…" Ginger noted to Steve as their group slogged along up the steep mountain path, the falls in the distance still…

"It's not an easy one…" he agreed. "At least not one you'd want to do every morning…Or even every Saturday night…" smile.

"We'd best hold up a mo…" he looked back to see the Professor and Lovely Crumpt behind them, the Professor clearly struggling. "Your friend seems to be have a rough time, though he looks to be in good shape."

"He's ill…Don't know what with…" she noted. "Professor? Mrs. Crumpt?" she called. "You can take it easy, we're gonna do a rest stop for a few."

"Are you sure?" the Professor, wheezing a bit… "I can go a little further."

"I'm sure you can but I'm pooped. Come on up and set a spell." She called, smiling.

"Yes, we should stop." Lovely, a bit anxiously. Glancing at Ginger who nodded.

"Very well…" the Professor agreed, climbing carefully to where Ginger and Steve stood. Clearly exhausted and breathing heavily. "But just a few moments. Where's Gilligan?"

"He's moved on ahead…That boy's a dynamo…" Steve noted.

"He was in the Navy, I guess he got endurance training." Ginger shrugged.

"Well, I hope he doesn't go too far ahead on his own…" the Professor, peering up the trail.

"He promised not to go too far." Ginger nodded. "Just wanted to see that things were safe."

"He's a brave-heart boy…" Lovely smiled. "We are lucky to have him with us."

"Just hope he's not a fool-hardy boy." The Professor sighed. "I think the Skipper would never forgive us for losing him and we need him."

"He was very brave on boat during the storm…" Lovely noted.

"That he was…" the Professor agreed. "I thought for sure we'd lost him several times."

"You must get Hollywood to make film about him and Skipper." Lovely smiled at Ginger. "I will get Fredwyn to back."

"I'll see…And I bet you could." Ginger smiled, no animosity in her look.

"One must know how to handle Fred…He is not so very bad." Lovely shrugged wanly.

"He seems very bad from where I sit, no offense." Ginger, shrewd smile.

"Hey!" Gilligan's cry from up the trail. "Good news! I found some wild lemons and melons on the way!"

"That's very good, Gilligan! Just be careful coming down!" the Professor called back.

"Nice…" Ginger nodded. "We won't get scurvy at least."

"Yes, there's a bunch of fruits and herbs about…" Steve noted. "Not many animals though."

"It seems strange…" Lovely stared about. "The native peoples I mean…Building their village up here in the mountain."

"It might have been for defense…" the Professor looked about. "This island might have been fought over…Or, could be the village was built for joint ceremonies by tribes nearby. Certainly the island doesn't appear to ever have been settled on a permanent basis."

"I agree…And you could be right about the ceremonies…" Steve nodded. "The village does not look like it was lived in much."

"If that's true, maybe they come by often." Ginger noted. "We could be saved soon…Oh, but you haven't seen any of them, right?"

"No…If they did once come much, they don't now." Steve sighed. "Maybe we frightened them off…"

"I find it hard to believe they could be too backward in this era…" the Professor pondered. "But the place could have been abandoned for a number of reasons. We'll see when we get there."

Gilligan emerged from the foliage along the trail, bearing a burlap sack…

"Hey, guys! Got you some lemons and melons!" he set the sack down.

"Well done, Gilligan!" the Professor smiled at him. "Did you see anything up the trail?"

"No signs of any people. There was some sort of animal I saw real quick. Coulda been a wild pig or something."

"A pig?" Ginger blinked.

Ok, I'm supposed to be a vegan according to my fan mags…But heck, I could go for ribs right now.

A little bacon, some ham…A pork roast.

"We've found a few…" Steve agreed. "Hard to catch but tasty."

"Well, that's encouraging as to the food situation. And we've already got a good freshwater source." The Professor noted.

"Now if we could just find a satellite phone one of the natives left behind…" Ginger grinned.

"No way to know till we get there…" the Professor smiled but paling a bit as he sat.

"Yeah…How much farther?" Ginger turned to Steve, trying to conceal her anxiety at the Professor's sudden paling.

"About eight miles yet, I'm afraid…" Steve sighed. "And the trail gets steeper…"

"You ok, Professor?" Gilligan having noted it too.

"Yes, yes…I'll be fine. Just a drop in my blood pressure. Give me a moment and I'll be all right."

"You should have something to eat…" Lovely insisted to the Professor. "Gilligan? Could you cut the Professor some of that nice melon?"

"Sure…" Gilligan pulled out pocket knife and began cutting.

"Only if you all have some…" the Professor insisted.

"I'm ready…" Ginger smiled. Gilligan offering the Professor a piece which he took.

"Yes, cantaloupe, very nice, Gilligan. Thank you." He smiled at Gilligan, taking a bite. "Delicious."

"Glad you like it." Gilligan nodded.

COPD or cancer, I'd say. Though he's not a smoker, probably cancer…Gill(igan) noted to himself, eyeing the Professor.

Poor fellow…Not an easy way to go, especially here, without any meds except the stuff on the boat.

But, if we don't manage to get off here quick, you're fortunate to have me on hand. I'll make it utterly painless when the time comes, should it.

Or if you become a liability…No offense but the National interest must take precedence, friend, smiling at the Professor.

…