Chapter 4: To Be or Not to Be?

The Professor's POV

I have known Gilligan for two years, and since then, I have known for him to bring back many different assortments of trinkets found around the island. However, I think yesterday's find tops the chart.

He had found a girl, and extremely rough shape, I must add. She was out cold, with bruises and scars on her head, neck, and arms. She was also very skinny, as If she hadn't eaten much at all, but I could see slightly large muscled in her biceps. Her short hair, a tousled brown, was tangled, cheeks flushed. She couldn't have been Mary Ann's age.
"Skipper, can you please carry her back to camp? I'd like to examine her up-close."

"Sure, Professor." The Skipper, in his usual, gruff voice tells me. But, as he picks her up his eyes grow wide. "Professor, she's light as a feather! Even Mrs. Howell could carry her!"

This concerned me greatly, as I feared the girl might be dead. But, it also puzzled me. Mrs. Howell was known to be a frail woman, and the Skipper was telling me she could carry a full grown woman.

"Hmm, well, we'd better hurry then." Was my reply, and we went back to our camp. Every once in a while, I looked out of the corner of my eyes towards the young sailor, who was waling besides me. Gilligan's gaze was set and staring at the stranger, his blue eyes soft. He suddenly spoke up, yet his stare was still poised on the young woman.

"Professor, who could have done that to her? Why... I mean, she's so small..." I could see tears then, and I can actually say that the act of sorrow and pity from Gilligan was felt deeply. I had known Gilligan to be a kind and loving man, not able to dislike anything or anyone. This was something more than kindness, I could feel it. Since my being shipwrecked, I had learned to feel, and I could sense what Gilligan had felt for the her.

I could only say this: "I don't know, Gilligan, I don't know." We walked the rest of the way in silence.

When we had come back to camp, everyone gathered up around us to see the what the commotion was about. I dislike this, I needed to examine the girl, check for any more severe injuries and talk about where she had come from.

"Oh, will she be alright, Professor?"

"Who is that girl there?"

"Poor dear!"

"She looks like an actress I worked with in Kokomo."

Then, something surprising happened. "Hey! I ya keep asking all those things, Professor won't get to make her better!" I had never heard Gilligan raise his voice, but he yelled then. My fellow castaways backed away and let us pass, and we went into my hut.

"Place her on my table, please, Skipper. Then I can see how severe her injuries are." He did as I asked, her chest on the table. I took a knife and cut her shirt open, revealing her back.

I almost gagged, her back was covered in scars, old and fresh. Gilligan, who was right beside me, covered his face in my shirt and started sobbing. The Skipper looked away and started to comfort the first mate.

I got up from my seat abruptly, went to my chests, and came back with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, bandages, gauze, and cotton balls. I poured some peroxide onto the cotton ball and applied slight pressure to her wounds. She stiffened abruptly. I knew her reflexes worked, at least.

At last I was finished, her back, legs, arms and neck bandaged, and she was still sleeping. I suspected she was drugged. Gilligan had stayed the entire time, watching either me work or her face.

"Gilligan, I'm going to fetch some supplies for our guest here, I'll be back in a while."

In response to this he nodded his head and hummed, not taking his eyes off of her. I turned and left him then, going to find some herbs that would help her heal.

About a day later, I had to clean the newest member of our island's bandages. Gilligan wanted to be there while I did this procedure, and I did not object. He had been more than flexible with our newest member, letting her sleep in his hammock and insisting he slept on the floor. I could see he really cared about the strange young girl.

As I removed the first bandage, I was in total disbelief.

"H-how? No regular person could heal from such bad wounds overnight!" I was very concerned at this time. How could this be possible?

"Maybe she has a high metabolism." Gilligan may be kind, but I still had to remind myself about the boy's lack of proper education.

"I must talk to the Skipper about this. Until I return, can you watch her, Gilligan?"

His eager eyes shone bright as he saluted me. "Sure thing, Professor!"

"Oh, and please remove the rest of the bandages. Thank you, Gilligan." I left then, seeking out the Skipper.

When I returned, I found that the girl had awoken. She was not on her bed anymore. She was strangling Gilligan. As soon as I entered, she jumped past me and fled, at an alarming rate, into the jungle.

I hadn't seen her since then. That was until today.

"Hey, Professor!" I looked up to see the first mate coming towards me. The only truly shocking part was he was leading the girl, and the newest castaway came willingly.

"Gilligan!? H-how..."

He looked up at me and said, "I asked her to breakfast."

And so we all sat at the table in the middle of the huts and ate our breakfast, Gilligan sharing his seat with the young maiden. Mrs. Howell was the first to speak up

"Oh, you poor dear! Those wretched people must have done something truly awful to you. Not giving a lady any suitable things to wear."

"Quite right, my dear!" Mr. Howell replied, "If there is anything we can do, child, just let us know, and I'll make my contributions." The girl only looked at them both, moth slightly open, not knowing what to say. She then smiled politely and nodded her head in thanks.

That was when I decided to speak up. "I am Professor Roy Hinkley, you may call me the Professor, if you'd rather. The woman and man that just addressed you would me Mr. and Mrs. Howell, beside them is Mrs. Mary Ann Summers-

"Hello!'

"and Mrs. Ginger Grant."

"Welcome to the island."

"Next to Mrs. Grant is the Skipper-"

"M'am,"

"And I can see you have already met Gilligan." I said with a smile. "We all welcome you to our island!" The girl gave a head nod to each person as they spoke, smiling. "May I ask your name?"

The entire group seemed to quiet at the question. The girl seemed to look back, checking her memory and frowning as she did so. "Avian," She said "M-my name is Avian." Her voice rang, clear as a bell and soft as well. The group was in chatter again, welcoming Avian to the island once again. I felt better now, but something was still very upsetting. What did her past entail?