First mate's log:
September 6, 1965
Well, I'm still a bachelor, thank goodness. My feeonsay married her old boyfriend. I don't mind being jilted.
Today is Labor Day but I still have to labor.
Carol Martin's diary:
September 7, 1965
Mike and I have decided we'll start teaching Peter and Jan now, too. It's clear we're not going to be rescued any time soon, and Peter would be going into first grade, Jan into kindergarten. Alice will look after Bobby and Cindy during the "school day," and they're both outhouse-trained now, so it'll be easier than when they were in diapers. The Professor of course will teach science, but he's generally knowledgeable, so he'll help with the other subjects, too.
Sept. 12, 1965
Oh boy, this isn't as bad as being a fat native girl's feeonsay, but I really don't want to be the judge of a beauty pageant. Yesterday some girl Ginger knows won the Miss America pageant. So then all the other men got into an argument over which lady on the island would win a beauty pageant. Mr. Howell would of course pick his wife, and it didn't surprise me either that the Skipper would pick Ginger because he has a crush on her. I would've expected the Professor and Mr. Brady to be too sensible to argue about it, but the Professor would pick Mary Ann and Mr. Brady would pick Mrs. Martin.
I guess I could've picked Alice, even though she's not the prettiest (she's almost as old as Mrs. Howell and she's kind of plump, but not like my ex-bride), because she is the best cook and the funniest woman on the island. But I wanted to stay out of it. That just made them think I'm nutrull, so now I have to judge this stupid contest in a couple weeks. And whoever I pick, a bunch of people will be mad at me. Maybe I'll pick Mrs. Martin, so that the six kids and three of the adults will be happy, and that's over half the island.
Sept. 13, 1965
While Mike and I are continuing to teach our children, he's also training me for, of all things, a beauty pageant! The men got into an argument over which woman on the island would win such a contest. Mike surprised me by choosing me. Admittedly, Mr. Howell had already chosen his wife, the Skipper Ginger, and the Professor Mary Ann. And, yes, it might've been odd if he picked his maid, although he has known Alice much longer than any of us. But Mike could've stayed neutral, like Gilligan did.
I will admit there's a part of me that wants to compete, even though Ginger and Mary Ann are younger and perhaps prettier than I am. And even Mrs. Howell is quite lovely for an older woman, with poise and grace. Yet, I don't know if it's vanity or the spirit of competition, but I think I could win. After all, Gilligan will be the judge and he's an odd young man, so who knows what his taste might be? Perhaps I'm his type more than the other women.
Not that I'm interested in him! He's a sweet boy but he's just a boy. Even if he were more mature, he could never replace Tim. Not that I want to replace Tim. Don't get me wrong. We never promised each other we'd never remarry. I imagine years from now, when we're off this island and my girls are older, Tim would understand if I met another man I could fall in love with.
I just need Gilligan to think I'm pretty and talented. Ah, yes, the talent portion.
Mike and I talked after school. (He designed and built a three-room hut for himself, because of course he can't share a bedroom with Alice. He and his older two boys have the bigger bedroom, Alice and little Bobby the smaller one. Then there's a common room that we use for our school.)
"Have you thought about what you want to do for your talent?" he asked.
"Well, I sing. Not like Ginger of course, but I'm in the church choir back home." I felt a pang of both guilt and loss, because of course I haven't been to church in fifteen months. Even Mary Ann, who's probably the most religious of us, didn't bring a Bible, because of course it was just supposed to be a three-hour tour. I miss the spiritual guidance of my minister, but I'll admit I also miss the social side of church. And I worry sometimes about my children growing up without Sunday school, especially Cindy, who's never gone.
"Oh, Mom, you can't sing hymns in a beauty pageant!" Marcia exclaimed, coming back into the hut.
The kids were going to head over to the playground, but I guess Marcia was eavesdropping. (We have no glass for the windows and only use the shutters when the weather's bad.) Well, she and Greg were eavesdropping, because he followed her in and said, "Yeah, Mrs. Martin, you'd be better off with rock and roll."
"Gregory," his father scolded.
"No offense, Mrs. Martin, but you're supposed to impress Gilligan. And he likes pop music."
"Yeah, like the Mosquitoes." Marcia is still a little girl, but she does like to listen to the current groups on the radio.
"I think Mrs. Martin should just be herself and if Gilligan doesn't like it, that's just too bad."
I blushed a little at Mike's, well, not praise but support and acceptance. Nonetheless, he is training me, helping me choose music and rehearse. We're leaning towards Gilbert and Sullivan. And Alice is sewing my costume.
September 18, 1965
It's a week until the pageant and I'm tired of everybody pressuring me about who to pick. I have nobody to talk to about it except you and Gladys. She's a chimp on the island. She's a good listener even though I don't understand her replies.
September 25, 1965
Well, the pageant was tonight and did not at all go as I expected. Yesterday Mike and I eavesdropped on our children. Not that we intended to, but we came back to Mike's hut to get the lyrics for "I'm Called Little Buttercup" that I'd forgotten to take when we went to rehearse after school. (I had the song memorized by then but sometimes I blank out when I get nervous, and I got nervous imagining singing in front of everyone, especially if I'd have to go up after Ginger.)
Greg, Marcia, Peter, and Jan were plotting to sabotage the other candidates! They were going to use glue from the supply hut and some pea-shooters and sneezing powder they'd made, the latter from the pollen of a flower that grows on the island. Although it was of course wrong of them, I admit that I was impressed by their ingenuity and flattered by their support, especially the boys. Still, I joined Mike in his lecture about cheating.
The kids sheepishly promised not to do anything against my opponents, but we should've had them promise not to sell the pea-shooters and sneezing powder. Perhaps Mr. Howell came up with the idea on his own of spilling glue on the stage right before Mary Ann's tap dance, but the Professor blew sneezing powder during Mrs. Howell's recitation, and both the Professor and Mr. Howell used pea-shooters against Ginger.
Instead of singing, I announced, "I am withdrawing from this contest."
The children looked disappointed but Mike looked proud.
Gilligan said, "That's OK, Mrs. Martin, I wasn't going to vote for you anyway." The other contestants and their coaches looked hopeful. I guess I look hurt, because Gilligan added, "Not that you're not beautiful. I think all the women on the island are beautiful, including Alice, especially compared to my ex-fiancée. But beauty pageants are supposed to be for people who are from the places where the pageants happen, and none of you ladies are. So I vote for Gladys."
Gladys is his name for a chimpanzee who's been stealing bananas lately. This conclusion of the pageant made the last couple weeks feel even more pointless than they were. And yet, I think we all learned something. Mike and I agreed not to punish our children, since Mr. Howell, the Professor, and the Skipper were even more childish.