Yikes- Christmas is tomorrow! Are you ready?
Chapter Eight
They walked back to camp hand in hand, singing Christmas carols out of tune. Mary Ann's legs ached but her heart soared. The kiss they'd shared on the log had set her soul alight, and when Gilligan finally put his arms around her she thought she would die from happiness. His kissing technique- if you could call it that- was a little bit awkward, a little bit clumsy and hesitant, but to Mary Ann it was perfect in every way. He treated her like a fragile piece of glass, as though her lips would shatter if he pressed too hard. As much as she had imagined him kissing her in the heat of passion, she wanted him to remain this way- shy and gentle. That was what made him Gilligan, and that was what she loved him for.
Loved? She had always loved him as a friend. He was kind and courteous, warm and generous and nearly always in a good mood. It was easy to love him. Klutzy as he was, Gilligan drew people to him like a magnet. Maybe he then proceeded to annoy the heck out of them, but somehow that didn't matter. Once you met Gilligan you couldn't forget him. And once you loved him, it was easy to keep on loving him, until one day you woke up and realised you were in love with him.
"I wish we didn't have to go back so soon," she said, wistfully.
"My stomach says it's time to eat," said Gilligan. "And I never argue with my stomach."
She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. "We still have one piece of mistletoe left."
"And there's plenty more where that came from," Gilligan grinned.
He was right. There was enough mistletoe to decorate the whole island if they wanted to.
"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hand. "For letting me run away with you."
"Thank you for letting me let you run away with me," he said, shooting her a sidelong glance.
She bumped into him deliberately, and he bumped into her, and she giggled and bumped him back. "I had fun," she said. "You know. Exploring."
"I had fun too," he replied. "Exploring."
They began singing Silent Night, and then gave up because neither of them could remember all the words. Mary Ann coughed and cleared her throat. "I'm glad you changed your mind, Gilligan. You know- about kissing. I know it was difficult for you. I know you've never really enjoyed it. I'm glad I didn't scare you off."
Gilligan looked down at her. He decided he liked the shape of her nose, and the way she bit her lip when she was nervous. Like she was doing right now. "I guess I had to find out what it was like sometime. To kiss someone I wanted to kiss."
"Was it really Ginger who made you so scared?"
He shook his head. "No. I kind of had some bad experiences before. A long time ago."
"I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his arm.
"It's okay," he shrugged. "Like I said, it was a long time ago."
"And then you got stuck on an island with a vivacious movie star," Mary Ann smiled.
"Yeah," he replied. "Just my luck, huh?"
"Gilligan! Here's your cave!" Mary Ann exclaimed as they rounded a corner.
"Oh, yeah. How 'bout that? My cave."
They went over to the cave and stood in the shelter of the outer cavern. Gilligan looked down at the tiny entrance hole. You had to get on your hands and knees and crawl into it. Vines hung down around them, and the rock wall felt cool to the touch. "Don't worry, I'm not going in," he said. "I'm not a Lone Wolf today."
Mary Ann looked up at the knot of vines and tree roots over their heads. She glanced at Gilligan, coyly. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
"Are you thinking this?" he said, pulling the last sprig of mistletoe out of his pocket.
"I might be," she giggled.
"I might be, too." Gilligan reached up and tied the mistletoe to the hanging tree roots and they watched the tails of red ribbon twisting and fluttering in the breeze. "It makes my cave look Christmassy," he said.
"It also means you have to kiss me again," Mary Ann told him. "For the fourth time."
"Fourth?" His eyes widened.
"Fourth," she nodded, gravely.
Gilligan frowned. He scratched his head. "Is that too much?" he asked.
"Not for me," she laughed.
He put his arms out and she went into them. He folded them around her, still a little unused to being this close to someone. A girl. Being this close to a girl. And not just any girl- a girl who liked him, who actually liked him and accepted him for who he was, faults and all. A part of him still didn't believe it, but if Mary Ann had said it then it must be true.
She liked him.
He liked her.
So maybe, after three whole years of being shipwrecked with her, it was time he plucked up the courage to show it.
They stood under the mistletoe with their arms around each other. Their lips met, softly at first, and then with increasing pressure, until Mary Ann felt as if she were floating on air. Sure, their noses bumped. Sure, he forgot to breathe. Sure, his hands were shaking, she could feel the tiny tremors reverberating against her ribs. But she had never felt such heat as this, rising up in the pit of her stomach and tingling down her arms and legs. She wanted this kiss to go on and on forever. She wanted them to be the only people left in the world, to want and need and depend on each other until the end of their days.
When the kiss ended, he looked at her face, studying her expression. "Penny for your thoughts," he said, a little anxiously.
"I was just thinking that this could possibly be one of the best Christmases of my life," she said, gazing up at him through heavy lidded eyes.
"Funny," he said, smiling with relief. "I was kind of thinking the same thing, too."
When they got back to camp, a chorus of cheers awaited them. "Little Buddy! Where have you been?" The Skipper bellowed his greetings across the clearing, as though Gilligan had returned after ten years in the wilderness.
"Oh, me and Mary Ann went for a walk," Gilligan said. "As it was a nice day and all."
"Gilligan, you naughty boy. I still haven't had my kiss," said Ginger, pouting.
Gilligan studied the Professor and the Skipper. They looked dishevelled but happy, their faces smeared all over with Ginger's tell-tale lipstick marks. "Looks like they got my share," he grinned.
"They've certainly been putting the mistletoe to good use!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed.
So have we, Mrs. Howell, thought Mary Ann, feeling the heat creeping into her cheeks. So have we.
Over lunch, everyone laughed about the mistletoe shenanigans that had gone on all morning.
"I must say, I never dreamed it would take off so well!" Mrs. Howell said gaily. "Although I must say I did worry about the poor Captain at one point. My dear, you hardly let the poor man come up for air!"
"What can I say?" Ginger simpered, preening her hair. "It's a talent."
"And what a talent!" The Skipper winked at the Professor, fanning his face with his hand.
"And what about you youngsters?" Mrs. Howell continued, turning to Mary Ann. "Where did you disappear off to all morning? I hope you were behaving yourselves!"
A loud silence descended on the table, broken only by Gilligan choking on his mango juice.
"We went exploring, didn't we, Gilligan?"
"Uh-huh," Gilligan mumbled, wiping mango juice off his chin.
"Exploring, and looking for butterflies."
"Yeah," said Gilligan, nodding in agreement. "Butterflies."
"Well, that's wonderful," Mrs. Howell said. "We were all worried you'd eloped!"
"What's 'eloped'?" asked Gilligan.
"It's when you run away to get married," said the Skipper.
"Oh," said Gilligan. And promptly choked on his mango juice again.
The conversation picked up again and everyone started talking about Christmas. It was only a couple of days away. The tree was decorated and they had plenty of food and the huts were neat and tidy. They laughed about what they were going to give each other as gifts that they hadn't already given each other the year before, and the year before that. How many times could you wrap up a coconut? Gilligan wondered if Santa Claus would pay them another visit. Laughter rang out around the table. Everyone was in good cheer. Christmas was coming and there were festive songs on the radio. Bing Crosby and Burl Ives, bringing a little bit of home to the island, and fond memories to each of the castaways.
After lunch, Ginger found Mary Ann in their hut, brushing out her hair. "Butterflies?" she smiled, folding her arms.
"That's right," Mary Ann replied, staring intently at her reflection in the mirror.
"Butterflies." Ginger leaned forward and studied Mary Ann's face.
"Yes, Ginger, butterflies. You'd be surprised how many butterflies there are, and how you find them in the most unexpected places." Mary Ann looked up at Ginger with a guileless smile, and in moments the two of them were laughing.
"I'm proud of you Mary Ann," Ginger said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I hope you know that!"
Mary Ann looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what was different about her. Then she decided that it wasn't about the way she looked at all. It was the way she felt, as though there was a bubble of happiness inside her, a fizzy explosion of joy, of optimism, and of hope that the coming year would be a good one. "You know something, Ginger?" she said, turning to the movie star with a genuine smile full of warmth, "I hope it doesn't sound bigheaded, but I'm kind of proud of me, too."
Out in the clearing, the Skipper heard their laughter and turned to Gilligan. "Tell me, Gilligan. Isn't that the most wonderful sound you ever heard? It's got to be better than those darn Mosquitoes!"
Gilligan came over and stood next to the Skipper. He turned his head towards the hut, listening intently for a few seconds. He picked out Ginger's laugh, throaty and seductive. And then he heard Mary Ann. She sounded so happy. Her voice rose and fell and her laughter somehow reminded him of the bubbling, clearwater stream. A feeling of warmth spread over him, because when she was happy, he was happy. And suddenly he knew exactly what the Skipper was talking about. "You're right, Skipper," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "That's just the kind of music I could listen to all day."