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Part Two
The Professor checked his watch for maybe the fifteenth time in the last hour. Nine thirty and still no sign of her. It was dark out, where could they be? He started to pace back and fourth and then sat down quickly, forcing himself to remain calm.
Although, the Professor reasoned, there was no reason he shouldn't be anxious. Ginger was out there alone with on of her old boyfriends, it was a beautiful moonlit evening, and he had no idea where they were. Besides that, Tony was some Hollywood stud with a body and reputation to kill. What was he, a college professor with barely any prior romantic experience?
Surely there was good cause to be worried, he decided as he walked out of his hut to that of the girls'.
The Professor knocked on the door and was surprised when it was Ginger who opened it. "I hope I didn't wake you," he said, noticing with something quite less than indifference that her hair was down, hanging loosely around her shoulders, and she was clothed in nothing but her customary orange blanket.
"Oh, no, of course not," Ginger replied, she seemed confused at first, or maybe lost in thought. "I was actually just getting ready to go to sleep."
Something perturbed the Professor; it seemed strange that she would have neglected to wish him a good night before turning in herself.
Ginger seemed to read his thoughts. "Look, I'm really sorry I didn't stop by after I showed Tony around the island. I guess I was just tired and, well, a little preoccupied.
"Preoccupied?" he asked, stepping backwards out of the doorway.
"Let's not start something," she replied, following him outside, closing the door behind her. "I forgot to report back to you, okay," she added in sarcastic amusement. "Why are you so worried? Didn't I already tell you I don't like him anymore? Actually, if it bothers you so much, I'm rather aggravated with him at the moment."
"It's all fine and good that you're over him, but I'm not quite sure the feeling is mutual with him.
Ginger didn't respond.
"And why is he a source of aggravation," the Professor pondered out loud.
Still no response.
"He did make advances then," the Professor decided all too smugly.
"I am perfectly cable of taking care of myself, thank you very much."
"You're ignoring the question."
"Fine," she snapped, "if you want to put it so formally, he did 'make advances'. But it wasn't anything more than some good natured flirtation."
The Professor folded his arms and remained silent.
"And I snubbed him to the best of my abilities, promise," she smiled, holding up two fingers.
"It's three fingers," he retorted, trying hard not to be amused.
"Sorry," she laughed, raising the third finger. "And can we try not to spend the last few days on the island arguing?"
"Okay," he agreed taking her hands and pressing his nose into the top of her head.
They stood there silently until a nagging question disrupted Ginger's stupor. "Roy… why does it bother you so much? I mean, is it just because I used to date him, or is it because he's a man who showed interest in me?"
"I wouldn't call it interest, more like a ravenous hunger."
"You flatter me and avoid the question, talented."
The Professor sighed and said quietly, "Ginger, did you ever consider that if we'd met back in civilization we would have never dated and maybe it's just because we're stuck on this island that this happened?"
She felt slightly hurt then understood his meaning, "Once in awhile, I usually try not to think about the 'what ifs' our shipwreck produced."
"I'm sorry I mentioned it."
Ginger smiled sadly and replied, "That's okay; the thought was there all along." She kissed him goodnight and added thoughtfully, "It doesn't matter, though, I guess, since we did get marooned together… and well, there's no ignoring that."
Ginger crawled into bed, her mind aching with rumination. As she watched MaryAnn read calmly, all of the day's events flashed through her mind. The bizarre chance of Tony, of all people, landing on the island and the even stranger idea that he held no grudge against her circulated first. Next, came the unfathomable, yet intriguing, possibility that Tony had not only forgiven her, but was still quite in love with her. Of course, the Professor's warped and terrifyingly real comments flew around in a jumbled mess. However, after mulling these events over in her mind long after MaryAnn had put her book down and blown out the candle, there was still something she hadn't touched.
Something that bothered and racked her with doubt. A feeling that had sparked when she'd first seen Tony, then when she caught him staring at her during dinner… even when he had been forward at the lagoon. It was when she looked in his eyes that she felt herself falling into his spell. His past mistakes would be forgotten and only the wildness and youthful freedom and charm their relationship had held would rush back to her, the love. She knew it was an absurd thought, yet it was there. In the darkness of the hut, she clung to her pillow like a frightened child, resisting the feeling that was ebbing away at her heart.
The next morning proved to be hot and lethargic. With nothing to do but wait for the boat to be repaired, the castaways were all in the same, thoughtful stupor, musing over their island adventures and what they'd find of their lives in civilization. Slowly, the hours crawled by to the afternoon and lunch was served with little excitement.
As the unforgiving sun shined bright overhead, the Professor worked diligently on fixing the engine with the sincere but trying assistance of Gilligan and the Skipper. The going was tedious and aggravating since everything the Skipper and Professor accomplished was undone by Gilligan. After the boy had dropped a sparkplug in the water for the second time, the Professor finally lost his patience.
"Gilligan! I don't mean to seem terse, but perhaps you could better employ your time elsewhere."
"But-"
"Gilligan, we don't need your help!" the Skipper barked.
Looking slightly dejected, Gilligan hurried off the boat.
"I didn't mean to shout at him, but this really is slow going," the Professor said, wiping his brow on the back of his sleeve.
"Don't worry,
it's understood," the Skipper laughed. "I can't believe the
engine still won't turn over."
The Professor began his
attempt to dry out the sparkplug, "And where's Tony?" he
vented, "Wouldn't he be of better assistance since this is his
boat?"
The Skipper
chuckled and noted, "You don't like him much, do you?"
"Not much at all, between us. But I hardly think my dislike is
irrational."
"Maybe not, but
I wouldn't worry too much."
"Speak of the devil," the
Professor announced as Tony came into view.
"How's it coming?" he asked after boarding the boat, that ever present grin that irked the Professor to no end plastered on his face.
"Not so well at all, I'm afraid."
Tony picked up the sparkplug and observed, "You do know that these things won't work if they're wet."
"Yes, I'm very much aware of that fact," the Professor replied coldly, "However, if you are such an expert on the matter, perhaps you might impart to us your wisdom."
"Uh, sure…" Tony replied, giving him a funny look.
The mood mildly tense, they set back to work stilly trying to diagnose the trouble. Frustration was high and tempers on edge so the Skipper wisely suggested, "Why don't we give it a rest for awhile?"
They departed and Tony headed back to the clearing. Much to his planning, he found Ginger lying on a lounge chair, staring up at the sky, looking quite lost in thought.
"Bored?"
"Huh? Oh, no, I was just thinking…" she replied, starting to
get up.
"You don't need to stand up on my account," he teased. "Thinking huh?"
"Yes." She was watching him carefully, wondering what his intentions were.
"Well I myself was wondering what you saw in him."
"Who, the Professor?" Ginger questioned carefully. "Plenty of reasons. He's considerate, smart, helpful, and more of a gentleman than you could ever hope to be."
"Yes, and to top it all off, he's a working stiff with the personality of cardboard, no sense of humor, and no tact whatsoever."
"He's really not any of those, he just doesn't like you," she corrected Tony in a matter of fact way. Already tired of the conversation, she closed her eyes in attempt to block him out.
"That doesn't
bother me much. In fact, the only thing I'll say for him is that
from what I've seen, he has excellent taste in women."
"Ha," Ginger laughed, "And here I thought we were at a
disagreement. Whatever happened to that fight last night?"
"You know I couldn't stay mad at you," he smiled. "Gosh, how could you stand being stranded for so long on this island?! Man, I would be bored out of my mind!"
"Oh… it's not that boring."
"So, that's what you see in him…"
"What? No, I meant, it's like being on a really long vacation but without being able to leave for home whenever you desired."
"You really have changed, haven't you?" he thought out loud. "There was a time; I hope you remember, that you saw a lot in me."
"Well, thank goodness that time has passed," Ginger retorted sarcastically.
"Hmm, is that so? Well, think at it this way, pet. What, pray tell, is to happen to you and your dear Professor when you're back in the states? But of course, everything will work out and the distance won't matter in the slightest; I rather think not. But what about me? Hollywood is my home as well as yours."
Ginger frowned,
her eyes shut firmly, afraid that they might betray her. "Now
you're just talking nonsense."
"Am I, Ginger?" he
pondered, kneeling next to her. "Somehow, I think you're the one
talking nonsense."
Tony leaned over Ginger and took her face in his hands and started kissing her fervently.
Ginger's eyes snapped open in shock. She tried to push him away but Tony just persisted to push her head back into the chair harder. Various thoughts ran through her head. What if somebody walked up now and saw this? Where did this come from? Why wasn't she doing anything more to stop him? Why was she just sitting here letting him kiss her like this? Was she enjoying this? And what-?
Ginger found herself forgetting to resist Tony. Her lips were moving in rhythm with his. She was running her fingers through his thick hair. "Tony…" she murmured weakly. Still she sat there letting him kiss her as he stroked her face, kissing him back.
Finally something woke up inside of her and she stopped. Direly tempted to slap him, but realizing with horror that she was equally at fault.
Tony got the message and also stopped but his grin was still shining close to her face.
"You… cad," was all she could muster, shaking with anger at both Tony and herself.
"I wouldn't say that, you seemed to be enjoying yourself. I knew you still had feelings for me. Oh don't even try to deny it," Tony laughed. "If your eager response to my kiss didn't clinch it, your eyes just did. Beware of them, Ginger; they'll let you fall every time.
Ginger, too full of self-loathing and disgust, couldn't respond but stormed off into the jungle.
Tony sat in the chair she'd just vacated and started laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" the Professor asked in suspicion as he came into the clearing.
"Oh… I don't think you'd get the humor," Tony managed between laughs.
"You haven't seen Ginger, have you?"
"Ginger, hmm… Ginger, oh, do you mean that charming girl of yours? OH now, where did I see her, oh that's right, we did happen to run into each other, didn't we. If I do remember, she went that way."
The Professor observed Tony with some incredulity then headed in the appointed direction.
However, it wasn't until dinner that he would see her again.
She was sitting at the table in silent bewilderment when almost simultaneously, the Professor and Tony sat on either side of her and said, "Oh there you are."
She smiled but didn't say anything the entire meal.
Afterwards while they were cleaning up the dishes, the Professor asked, "Are you ok, Ginger, you seem somewhat disoriented."
"No, I just feel a little strange, I'll be alright."
She tried to smile genuinely, but it came off as a struggled expression. He knows, she thought, he can tell something happened but won't ask for fear I'll be upset with him for doubting me. And I couldn't tell him for fear that he won't trust me anymore.
They continued washing the dishes in silence until her nerves getting to her, Ginger announced that she was going to bed.
"Okay, goodnight then," the Professor said in a troubled sort of way.
As he kissed her goodnight, her lips burnt with betrayal and she could almost hear Tony laughing at her, calling her a hypocrite.
