Laments of a Soon-To-Be "Rescued" Sailor: (Gilligan Goes Emo)
Chapter 5: A Hug-Full of Sisal
xxxxxx
When Ginger and Gilligan made it back to camp, everything was still and silent. It seemed no one was home. Just to make certain, however, they walked over to the hut Mr. And Mrs. Howell shared. If they were around camp, it would be likely that they'd be hiding in their hut, just in case anyone walked through. In order to avoid work, they would likely wish to remain well hidden.
Ginger knocked on the door, "Mr. and Mrs. Howell?" She called out, "are you in there?"
They didn't receive an obvious answer, no 'yes' or 'no' or 'of course; do come in!' They didn't even receive silence as an answer. Instead, they could hear shuffling and whispers coming from inside the hut. Gilligan could make out a bit of the whispering.
"Shhh... Lovey..." he heard Mr. Howell's muffled voice, "Stay away from the window... shhhhh!"
"Oh, Thurston, should we tell them no one's home?" Mrs. Howell whispered.
Gilligan and Ginger exchanged confused glances, then they pressed their ears up against the door to hear more.
"Lovey, they'll know someone is here if we tell them no one's home," Mr. Howell's whispering continued, "We've just got to keep quiet until they're convinced the hut is empty. They'll go away if we don't say anything."
"But what if they come in?" Mrs. Howell whispered.
"Would they dare snoop around a Howell's hut!" Mr. Howell's quiet voice raised slightly in volume.
"Mr. Howell?" Gilligan called out as he knocked on the door again, "Mrs. Howell?"
"We're not home!" Mrs. Howell answered.
"Lovey! Shhhhhh!" they could hear Mr. Howell's hushed exclamation, "What did I tell you, dear! You can't tell people you aren't home! They'll know you're here. How else could you tell them that you aren't! Now they surely know we're home..."
"Can we come in?" Gilligan asked.
He and Ginger stepped back as the hut's door swung open. Mr. Howell stood in the door way, "Well, hello there, Gilligan, Ginger," he smiled, "fine day, isn't it? Would you like to come in? We were just going to have a glass of brandy. You two are welcome to join us, free of charge this time."
"Oooh," Gilligan was tempted to accept this offer. He didn't know what brandy tasted like, but Mr. Howell didn't usually let him have anything from his personal heap of belongings for free. He let him borrow his teddy bear sometimes, but even that he did reluctantly and rarely.
"It's not even noon yet!" Ginger exclaimed, "and you're already drinking? Besides, aren't you two supposed to be looking for something?"
Mr. Howell shrugged, "Not that I know of. What, have you lost something, dear? Gilligan can help you find it, I'm sure. He's always finding odd bits, that boy. Empty out his pockets and you'll probably find every trinket any of us has ever lost."
Ginger pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her lower lip out slightly, "You know what I'm talking about, Mr. Howell. The Professor asked you to look for the sisal plant, remember? Have you found any? Or have you just been here all morning? I hardly think it's fair that you two haven't helped at all. We all want to be rescued, but it'll never happen if we don't all work together. If you don't help, that's a lot of extra work for everyone else."
"We did find one; remember, Thurston?" Mrs. Howell joined in the conversation, "It's a dreadful plant, you know. Terribly pointy, like a porcupine. I almost cut my poor little finger. And I believe I may have stained my gloves," She handed some white gloves with green smudges on them over to Ginger, "would you mind trying to wash them, dear? If the stains won't come out, you can keep them. I have no use for stained gloves."
Ginger looked shocked.
"Or Mary Ann can wash them," Mrs. Howell offered, seeing that she had offended the actress.
"I can do it," Gilligan offered, taking the gloves, "but first we need to find some more of that plant. The Professor says we're going to need a lot of it, so we need to work together and find as much as we can." Considering that he was the one who wanted off the island the least, Gilligan was making the most effort of the four of them to try to succeed in their escape plan. These three sure were making the plan as complicated as they could. All they had to do was stop arguing and start helping, but all three of them were concerned with whether or not everyone else was helping, so instead of helping out themselves, they each simply sat back and complained about each other.
"Gilligan's right," Ginger agreed, "Two of us can search the north side of the island, and two can search the south side."
"Very well," Mr. Howell reluctantly agreed, "Come along Lovey." Mrs. Howell took her husbands hand and they were about to walk off when Ginger stopped them.
"Not so fast," she frowned, "if you two go together, who will make sure you even work? Whose to say the two of you won't just find a beach somewhere and sit down and relax? If You two go off together, Gilligan and I will end up doing all the work."
"Right you are, dear," Mr. Howell commented, "and someone has got to make sure you and Gilligan work as well. I know you, Ginger, have a reputation for sitting back and not getting anything done. So Lovey," he looked at his wife, "I'm putting you in charge of making sure Ginger helps you find some of that sisal plant. And I'll go with Gilligan."
Ginger frowned, "You're one to talk," she muttered.
"Oh, come along dear," Mrs. Howell tugged her along toward the jungle, "we'll find twice as much sisal as they will."
Gilligan followed Mr. Howell the other direction.
"So do you know what we're looking for?" Gilligan asked, "the Professor said it looks kind of like a pineapple, but that it isn't a pineapple, but if I find a pineapple, I can go ahead and bring that back too. But he also said that you'd know what we were looking for and that you could show me what it looks like and then I wouldn't have to worry about confusing it with a pineapple, because they look similar, but not exactly alike. But he also said pineapple leaves may be useful too. And I know if I brought back some pineapples, no one would be angry, because I think everyone likes pineapples. I know I do."
"Hush, boy," Mr. Howell sighed, "you'll make me forget what I'm looking for. If we come back with a bunch of pineapples, I'm blaming you."
Gilligan nodded, "sorry," he said, "If you find one, will you show me so I know what it looks like?"
Mr. Howell nodded, "Yes, yes, but I only anticipate that we'll need one plant, Gilligan."
"Really?" Gilligan asked, "are they really big? Because Professor said we'd need lots of rope-"
"Will you stop interrupting me, boy?" Mr. Howell sighed, "You'd think the Skipper would have taught you better manners. But then... The Skipper himself isn't quite as polite as he should be... Perhaps you left home too soon. You probably would have benefited from more time spent with your mother. Mothers always are a wonder at teaching their sons manners, you know. I never spent much time with my own mother... but that's a different story."
Gilligan narrowed his eyes, "Is that why you don't have any manners?" he asked.
"Hush now," Mr. Howell ignored his question, "Here's the plant we're looking for." He walked over to a spiny looking plant protruding from the ground. Gilligan followed and looked over his shoulder as he squatted down and plucked a leaf off, "This is the only one we'll need to find."
"But it doesn't look like it will make too much rope, Mr. Howell," Gilligan protested, "I think we should keep looking."
"Nonsense," Mr. Howell disagreed, "Just pluck all the leaves off of this one. It's rather big, I'd say. We'll claim we found three small ones and call it a day."
"Hmmm... I don't know..." Gilligan hesitated, "that doesn't seem very honest."
"A boy your age shouldn't be concerned about honesty!" Mr. Howell exclaimed, "And you're a sailor, no less. Have you ever heard of an honest sailor?"
"Well sure," Gilligan responded, "me," he grinned, "and Skipper's pretty honest too, I think."
"Oh, come on, Gilligan," Mr. Howell whined, "this is women's work."
"Well, it's much better than men's work though," Gilligan told him, "Would you rather be chopping down trees? We had to try to saw them down with sea shells yesterday! Oh, you should have seen it! It was terrible. Even Skipper couldn't finish a whole tree. And the shells break all the time, and sometimes they cut into your hand! I think you'd much rather do this stuff, even if it is women's work. Ginger and Mary Ann and Mrs. Howell get all the luck, them being girls and all. Everyone goes easy on them and they always get the jobs that aren't as hard. I can't chop down trees! I don't think I'll even be able to do it with a stone ax! What am I going to do! Skipper and the Professor are going to be so disappointed in me!"
"Calm down, lad," Mr. Howell placed his hand on Gilligan's shoulder looked at him as though he was crazy. He supposed his explanation to Mr. Howell about why women's work was more preferable had indeed turned into a somewhat panicked rant.
Gilligan breathed out and looked up at Mr. Howell.
"No one is going to be disappointed in you, Gilligan," Mr. Howell assured him, "Do you honestly think they expect you to be able to do back-breaking work like that? Why, you're just a boy! And a skinny boy at that! I'd be more able to do it than you, and I'm terrible at such things. They'd be mad to expect you to be successful in chopping down trees! Have they no observation skills whatsoever? Why would they possibly expect you to do such work!"
Gilligan frowned. Was this supposed to make him feel better? It only made him feel like more of a disappointment. Not only could he not do hard work, but everyone didn't even expect him to. They all knew he was a failure.
"Why don't you and I go back to the huts for a drink, hm?" Mr. Howell offered, obviously noticing Gilligan's melancholy expression.
Gilligan shook his head, "If I can't do the men's work, I want to at least do the women's work. If I don't even do the easy stuff, everyone will definitely be disappointed in me, and you know it. Maybe they think I'm not good at doing difficult stuff, but I can at least pick some grass. How could I possibly mess that up? I know what I'm looking for now. I can do this job well, and no one will have any right to be disappointed."
Mr. Howell sighed, "Ginger and Mrs. Howell will pick enough to make the ropes," he tried to assure the first mate, "You don't want to search for hours and pick all of these leaves for nothing, do you? If we keep looking, we'll find too much of the plant, and we'll have done all this work for nothing."
"What if Ginger and Mrs. Howell are saying the same thing?" Gilligan asked.
Mr. Howell gasped, "they wouldn't!"
"Well, why not?" Gilligan persisted, "you think they'll find enough. Maybe they think we will, so they're not working either. Maybe they're already back at the huts drinking brandy. If we don't find enough sisal, maybe no one will find it! And you'll never get to go back home to your money."
"Well, if they aren't working, I sure don't want to do everything all by myself!" Mr. Howell exclaimed, "I won't let them sit back while I keep working! That's not the kind of person I am! A Howell doesn't work while others sit back and drink his brandy!"
Gilligan frowned, "they probably aren't really drinking your brandy."
"Well, there's only one way to find out!" he turned and started walking back toward the camp, "I'll not waste away my day picking leaves when my brandy is at stake!"
Gilligan sighed and sat down next to the prickly plant Mr. Howell had found, "I guess it's just you and me from now on," he told the plant, wrapping his arm around it somewhat as though it was his long time pal, "Ouch," he drew his hand back when one of the pointed leaves pricked his finger, "I guess you don't want to be friends," he commented, "Well, the Professor says we need your leaves, so I'm going to have to take them, whether you like it or not."
Gilligan plucked all of the leaves off the plant and laid them in a neat pile. Then he looked around for more of the same kind of plant. If Ginger and Mrs. Howell really weren't going to collect any of the plant, it would be entirely up to Gilligan. This meant, if he didn't do it, no one would. The sisal plant could possibly be his responsibility alone. If he found lots of it, everyone would be proud. But then, he'd probably want to give the Howells and Ginger some credit too, so they wouldn't look bad to the others. Still, if he found tons and tons of the sisal plant and brought it all back with him, Ginger, the Howells, and Gilligan would all know that Gilligan had done a good job all by himself.
He took off his red shirt and tied the sleeves around the small bundle of leaves. When he found more plants, he'd have a huge bundle to bring back, and his sleeves would end up being stretched around the bundle. It would seem as though his shirt was alive and it would look like it was hugging the sisal leaves, even though the sisal plant wasn't friendly and liked to jab people's fingers. Luckily for his shirt, it didn't have fingers to be jabbed.
There didn't seem to be any sisal plants in the near-by area; Gilligan would have to venture further into the jungle. He wouldn't come back to camp until he had enough leaves that he'd barely be able to tie his shirt around them. He would call it a hug-full of sisal leaves, because his shirt would be hugging them.
But finding the sisal plant wasn't as easy as Mr. Howell made it look. Mr. Howell had spotted a plant almost immediately, but Gilligan couldn't seem to find any at all, even after fifteen minutes of searching. He supposed it might be easier if he knew what conditions they liked to grow in. Did they like the shade? Or the sunlight? Where had the last one been? He couldn't remember. He looked down at the bundle of leaves, "Where are your friends?" he asked it. It didn't answer. He didn't expect it to.
From one edge of the jungle to the other, he searched. When he made it to the beach, he decided to take a lunch break. He hadn't found anything... He figured he probably hadn't been looking carefully enough. He'd have to go back through and look with a more careful eye, but not before he had some lunch.
There was a delicious looking bunch of bananas hanging from a low branch, and he was getting pretty hungry from searching all morning. So he placed the bundle of leaves next to himself as he sat down and had a couple bananas. He really liked bananas. Skipper, and probably everyone else on the island besides Gilligan, were so sick of bananas and coconuts and all the delicious island food. They wanted stuff they were used to getting at home, like hamburgers, french fries, and apple pies. Gilligan liked those things too, but he decided he'd never get tired of bananas. Especially not these bananas. They were a hundred times tastier than ones he used to buy at the store.
Gilligan laid back on the sandy beach. It was sunny and warm. He just loved this island. He could easily fall asleep right here. What use did he have for a bed when he had a warm sandy beach he could sleep on? He decided to close his eyes for just a moment. It was only early afternoon. He still had lots of time to search for the sisal plant. Even if he took a little nap, he could still find a hug-full of sisal and still be back to camp before dark.
Gilligan's naps almost always contained dreams, and this nap was no exception. His dream was wonderful:
Edgar the chimp walked up to him with a big barrel overflowing with sisal leaves.
Gilligan picked the barrel up effortlessly and made his way back to camp. He put the barrel down and attached a note which read: "Here are some sisals. There must be seven hugs-full in there! Edgar did most of the work, so give him lots of bananas when you see him next!"
"Let's go, Edgar," he smiled, taking Edgar's hand and walking toward the waterfall in the center of their island.
Then they were in a canoe, fishing for rainbow fish. Sometimes the fish would leap over the boat. The sun would make their scales look extra sparkly. Gilligan's and Edgar's fishing lines didn't have hooks. The fish somehow just grabbed on and let Gilligan and Edgar reel them in. Then they'd look at the beautiful fish, pat them on their scaly heads, and toss them gently back into the water so they could swim home to their families.
They were having a wonderful time.
But then, clumsy even in his own dreams, Gilligan tumbled out of the boat. He thrashed around in the water, forgetting for a moment that he in fact DID know how to swim. But his arms didn't feel like he was in water. When he moved them they bumped into something solid...
Gilligan opened his eyes. He wasn't in the water. He was on the sandy beach... On his stomach now. And somehow he had gotten sand all over his face and a little in his mouth. He pulled himself up so that he was on his knees. He brushed the sand off his face and then stuck out his tongue and brushed the sand off that too.
Gilligan stretched his arms out and yawned. He looked out at the water. The sun was starting to set. How had he slept for hours? He hadn't realized he was so tired, and his dream only seemed to last a minute or two at the most... He needed to find some sisal, and fast! The Professor, Mary Ann, and Skipper had probably already found all the stones they needed hours ago. And if Ginger and Mrs. Howell had really been looking for sisal all this time, they had probably found acres of it by now!
So he picked up his bundle of sisal leaves and continued his search.
It was getting darker and darker by the minute, and he still hadn't found any more plants than the first one Mr. Howell had shown him. At this rate, everyone was going to be angry with him for sure. He hadn't meant to be, but he ended up being very lazy. He had fallen asleep on the job... again. If he didn't find any soon, he would probably not find any at all... Soon it would be too dark for him to see the plants, so it would be impossible for him to tell which ones were sisal and which ones weren't.
He wasn't paying attention to where he was going anymore. At first he had been charting the land out somewhat in his head, trying to search all of it in a sort of ordered fashion. But now he was just stumbling around, looking frantically this way and that.
Unsurprisingly, Gilligan tripped over a root, landing flat on his stomach. His little bundle of sisal leaves fell out of his hand and into a bush, but he wasn't concerned with it for a moment as he fought with his lungs, trying to convince them to let in some air. Gilligan groaned as he pulled himself up off the ground and searched for his sisal bundle. His ribs sort of hurt now.
But all the unpleasant throbbing in his ribs seemed to disappear when he saw where his sisal bundle had landed. Gilligan grinned and staggered like a zombie over toward the shirt-wrapped bundle of sisal, which lay within the leaves of another sisal plant, which stood next to three other sisal plants. His hug-full of sisal was right there! Just waiting to be plucked... So he began plucking up the leaves, careful to avoid getting his fingers pricked. Within twelve minutes, his sisal bundle had increased five times it's original size. He didn't quite have a hug-full of sisal, but he certainly had a lot more than he had before.
Gripping his near-hug-full of sisal, Gilligan started back toward camp. He didn't know if his co-castaways would be proud of his find or not. They may have found more than he did, and it took him much longer to find it than it probably took them... But at the moment, he was proud of himself, and for now, he was in the company of only himself, so his opinion was the only one. So far, today had been a victory. Only time would tell if the others felt the same way...
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I call their hut area "camp" because I don't know what else to call it... I know "camp" doesn't seem quite right... I'd call it "home" but I feel like the whole island is "home" (maybe to Gilligan anyway...) So when I say "camp" I mean that little sandy area where all their huts are. Surely you know that already though, because I think I've been calling it camp through this whole story and through my last one as well. ^_^
Also, I know Gilligan isn't being very emo... but I just write what I feel like writing, and I don't feel like making him TOO emo... Having him actually cut himself and stuff just seems wrong... He's still a little emo though, I suppose, blaming himself for everything and expecting everyone to be disappointed in him all the time...
And remember, he wears a t-shirt under his red shirt, so he still had that on when he was collecting all that sisal... Perverts. ;)