Skipper gently placed Gilligan on the Professor's bed, and the worried group all gathered around as the scientist gave him the most complete examination yet. Straightening up, the Professor shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong. He's still alive - barely, but that's what we were trying for. He had to be deeply unresponsive to fool Ugundi. We couldn't have faked that."
"We know, Professor," Skipper assured him. "No one is blaming you."
Except for myself, the Professor thought. He turned toward his books, again wishing that he had more. These were just a fraction of his library back home, and he had never planned in effect to go into informal and untrained practice as a physician. If he had known about the shipwreck in advance, he would have brought several more books and some different titles.
Of course, if he had known about the shipwreck in advance, he could have just warned them all not to leave harbor that day. Realizing the futility of wishing for what he did not have, he settled down at the table and pulled over the volumes that were available.
Skipper wrung his hat in his hands. "Can he hear us, Professor?"
The Professor shook his head. "I doubt it. His heart rate doesn't react at all to stimulation. But then again, I could be wrong." He'd never felt more aware of how much he did not know.
Skipper put one ham-like hand firmly on Gilligan's shoulder. "Come on, Little Buddy," he urged. "Open your eyes. If you'll just wake up and start talking, I won't even tell you to shut up."
Ginger tossed her head. "Wait a minute. I've got an idea." The others stood back as she came up close beside the bed. "Gilligan, if you don't wake up, do you know what I'm going to do? I'll give you a big, long kiss, the longest kiss I've ever given anyone, longer than in my movies. And I know how you'd hate that, so if you don't want it, you'd better get out of the way." She knelt next to him, seized his face in her hands, and leaned in - then stopped. Her voice was trembling as she moved back.
"I can't do it. Oh, Gilligan." She stroked his cheek softly instead. "Gilligan, you were the first man since I became a movie star to treat me as just another human being instead of looking at me like a prize to be won or something you wanted. Hollywood is a horrible place to live and work at times. Everybody in the movie business - absolutely everybody - is out to get something. Women and men. They might want different things, but every one of us got used to manipulating and using ourselves and others to try to be a success. It became a habit. We'd throw our best friend under the bus for a part. A lot of times, when I'd look at myself in the mirror, I'd brag about my beauty on the outside, but the person I saw in my eyes wasn't even likable anymore. I didn't want to look at her too long, so I'd focus on everything else. And when we were shipwrecked, I had trouble adapting to being part of a community where people didn't see you as an object and where they weren't out to get you and you didn't have to be out to get them. I'm sorry for all the times I tried to pressure you or use myself to get something. But you've taught me what it means to really have a friend." She bent over and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Please come back to us, Gilligan."
The first mate didn't react, but the others had heard her words clearly. Mary Ann and Mrs. Howell looked sympathetic. Skipper and Mr. Howell, who definitely had been aware of Ginger's natural attributes many times even while not doing anything inappropriate, looked a bit ashamed of themselves. Even the Professor had stopped his frantic research early on in that speech and sat at his table, looking thoughtful. Silence lengthened for a moment before he broke it.
"We are all your friends now, Ginger." There was a murmur of agreement around the group, heads nodding. "But you're right. Gilligan has taught us all a lot."
Ginger stepped back from the bed and gave them a slightly watery smile, and Mary Ann and Mrs. Howell took her arm on each side, giving her a squeeze.
Mr. Howell cleared his throat. "I think I can understand what Ginger is talking about. All my life, everyone has looked at me as a walking dollar sign. They wanted something from me, and I'll admit I used and manipulated them just as much. The Wolf of Wall Street, they called me. You have to be ruthless, because the people around you are anyway, and if you give them a chance, they will run straight over you and walk away without an afterthought." He put a hand on Gilligan's arm. "You, my dear boy, have taught me that there really are people with no ulterior motives, who simply want to be friends. Nothing else required." He bent closer to the motionless sailor. "All the same, my boy, if you will just come back to us, I'll gladly give you $10,000."
Mrs. Howell scoffed. "$10,000 for Gilligan, Thurston? He's worth much more."
"Yes, he is," Howell agreed. "I'm sorry; force of habit. $100,000, Gilligan. A million, and that's my final offer." His voice shook slightly, and the others knew that it was from emotion, not from the figure. Mrs. Howell came up beside him and tucked one hand through his arm, reaching out with her other to brush Gilligan's dark hair back from his still face.
"Gilligan, dear, there is one thing that money can't buy, and Thurston and I have been well aware of that for years. No bank account in the world could give us a child of our own. Of course, we could have adopted, but somehow, I always felt that it wouldn't be the same. I wanted my own son so deeply, someone I felt was a part of me. We both did. When we were shipwrecked, I only thought at first of all the things we had lost and wouldn't be able to do now, but to my surprise, I've found someone here I consider a son, and I honestly think I couldn't love him more if he were my own." She brushed his cheek. "Please, my dear boy, wake up for us."
Gilligan didn't stir. Nor did anyone else for a few minutes, and then the Professor snapped to himself. "I need to keep reading. Maybe there's something I missed, something that could help." He turned back to his books. Mr. Howell pulled his wife tightly against his side, one hand rubbing her back.
Mary Ann sought relief in action. "I'll go make some coffee. We're going to need some staying up, and I'm sure none of us are going to bed tonight. Not until Gilligan is better." There was general assent from all of the others.
"I'll help you," Ginger offered. The movie star and the simple farm girl, the two friends, left the hut together.