7. Monkey's Uncle
10:00AM day 2
"Gladys, I mean it!" Gilligan said in the most demanding voice he could manage. He had long ago had enough of being cuddled and cooed at by the over affectionate ape. She was a gentle animal, one he had come to call his friend. But enough was enough. "I am done playing! I need to go back to camp."
She ignored his outburst like a mother might overlook a toddler's tantrum. With one thick-fingered hand she removed his hat and began to pick through his hair.
He snatched his hat back and crossed his arms in a huff, reluctantly allowing himself to be groomed. There just had to be a way to escape.
- -
Mr. Howell mopped at his brow with a silk, monogrammed handkerchief and blew out a tired breath. As unaccustomed to exercise as the millionaire was, the nearly two-hour long search was leaving him exhausted. He leaned heavily against the nearest palm tree and put a hand to his side where he was getting a distinct cramp.
"Thurston, we can't stop yet." His wife urged, fanning him with her scarf. "We haven't found Gilligan."
"Lovey, this little jaunt is beginning to smack of manual labor. I mean look at this!" He wiped his forehead with one hand and motioned to the moisture that had formed on his palm. "There it is again. Perspiration. If the boys at the Harvard Club saw this much water coming off of me they'd think I'd been in the steam bath for a week."
"But Thurston, Dear. The poor boy is shrinking and he's been kidnapped by a monkey. The dear lad is probably frightened out of his wits. He needs a big strong man to come to his rescue." Mrs. Howell stroked her husband's cheek just as she did his ego.
The millionaire straightened and took a deep breath, inflating his chest and thrust his chin out bravely. "You are so right, Lovey. The lad does need our help. And a Howell never abandons a friend in need!"
"Oh, Darling, you're so brave!"
"…Unless they've just gone bankrupt and want a loan." He added with a chuckle before resuming their trek into the 'wilds' of the little island. "Gilligan, where are you, my boy?!"
They had not traveled very far before their calls were answered.
"Here I am, Mr. Howell! Help!" Came the first mate's voice from somewhere in the surrounding jungle.
Mr. Howell turned in a full circle, trying to deduce where the voice had come from while Mrs. Howell brought her glasses-on-a-stick up to her eyes so she could better search.
"Where?" Mr. Howell asked, wondering if the first mate had already shrunk too microscopic proportions and was simply too small to see.
"Up here!"
In unison the couple turned their faces heavenward. There, not ten feet above their heads, Gladys sat comfortably in the crotch of a tree. On her lap sat Gilligan, waving frantically with both arms, trying desperately to get the Howell's attention.
"Are you alright up there, my boy?" Mr. Howell asked. "If that beast has harmed you I'll…" He raised his swagger stick to punctuate the threat.
"No. I'm fine. Gladys wouldn't hurt me." Came his answer. "But she won't let me down. I'm beginning to feel like Fay Wray!"
Mr. Howell gave a sharp laugh. "My boy you couldn't even pass the physical."
"Well, of course she won't let you go, Gilligan." Mrs. Howell spoke loudly so he would be sure to hear her. "She is your mother, you know."
"What?"
"It seems the hairy creature has adopted you." Mr. Howell explained.
"Then I abdicate!!" Gilligan shouted back, now straining against the ape's grip in hope of somehow getting loose and into the protection of his rich friend's.
"Oh, dear!" Mrs. Howell said, watching Gilligan's futile attempt at escape. "We've got to get him down from there."
Taking his wife's words to heart Mr. Howell, stepped forward to address the chimp directly. Despite their earlier conversation on lower primate's lack of interest in currency, natural instinct stepped in. "Now listen here, Cheetah. What interest could you possibly have in that skinny, hairless excuse for a sapian? I'll tell you what: I'll take the little nipper off your hands for, say, a hundred thousand dollars."
"A hundred thousand?" Gilligan squeaked, surprised that he could possibly be worth so much.
Mr. Howell stamped one foot. "Gilligan, will you be quiet while I'm bargaining!" He instantly turned his attention back to Gladys who had ignored his offer. "Okay, two hundred thousand." Nothing. "Three." Nothing. "You drive a hard bargain, my friend. Alright, half a million."
Gilligan gulped, barely able to comprehend the amount of money being offered for his freedom.
Gladys still didn't give the millionaire a second glance.
"Now listen here, Sasquatch!" Mr. Howell bellowed, beginning to get flustered. A man of his standing rarely tolerated being ignored. "The least you could do is have the decency to pay attention when someone is trying to bribe you!"
Apparently not liking his tone, Gladys bared her teeth and let out a bloodcurdling shriek and waved a shooing arm. The gesture was obviously a threat.
Mr. Howell's bravery wavered and he took a step back, raising an arm as if to defend himself against a blow.
"How rude!" Mrs. Howell put a hand to her chest, shocked at such uncouth behavior.
"I don't think she can be bribed, Mr. Howell." Gilligan said, seeing the negotiations going downhill.
"Nonsense!" The millionaire countered, as if the first mate had just questioned the law of gravity. "Everyone has a price." He addressed Gladys again. "Now what will it be? Your own banana plantation? A dinner with Jane Goodall? A part in the next Tarzan picture? Come now!" A coconut shot through the air, barely missing Mr. Howell's head. Another followed it closely, this one klunking solidly off his pith helmet. He backed up and raised both hands to protect his head.
Gladys was now screaming unintelligible threats and throwing everything that she could reach at the rich couple below.
"Gladys, Stop!" Gilligan pleaded unsuccessfully
"Well I never!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed in offense as she and her husband backed out of firing range.
"Good heavens! A Yale man!"
"Perhaps had better go get the Skipper and the girls. They may have another plan."
"Yes, Lovey. It's time to call in reinforcements." With that they turned and started into the jungle.
"Wait!" Gilligan called after them in panic. "You're not going to leave me?!"
"We'll return in a jiffy." Mr. Howell assured. "And this time we'll bring the cavalry."
"But…" Gilligan's worried voice trailed off as he watched his friends disappear into the ocean of green. He looked up at Gladys with a confused frown. "I didn't know there were any horses on the island."
10:40AM day 2
"Captain! Oh, Captain!"
The Skipper stopped and squinted in the direction of the millionaire's voice. The rich couple emerged from the tangle of vegetation and hurried over to him. They both seemed out of breath.
"I'm so glad we finally found you, Captain!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed, fluttering a large fan.
"Well?" He urged. "What is it?"
"We found Gilligan." Mr. Howell managed between gasps, clutching his chest as if his heart were about to give out.
"You found him?!" In his excitement the Skipper grabbed Mr. Howell by both shoulders and gave him a small shake. "You found him!?"
"Physical contact, please!" Mr. Howell gave the captain's hand a sound smack with his stick.
"Ep…I'm sorry, Mr. Howell." The Skipper stepped back, out of the millionaire's private bubble. "It's just I've been so worried about him. Where is he? Is he alright?"
"That dastardly beast is holding him captive." Mr. Howell waved a hand at the jungle behind them.
"It refuses to release him." The wife added. "I tell you, Captain, that monkey has the most appalling manners! If Emily Post had been there she would have died."
"She's right. The creature is an absolute animal. It wouldn't even take a bribe!"
The Skipper glanced in the direction of camp, wishing that the Professor could come with them. He knew animal psychology almost as well as Gilligan. Surely he would have a plan. But the high school teacher was already occupied with something of the utmost importance. They would just have to make due without him. "Let's get the girls and see if we can help him."
11:00AM day 2
It had been a long time since the Howell's had left and Gilligan was beginning to wonder if they were coming back at all. What if they had lost their way or forgot where he was? Or even worse, what if the owners of the machine had come and in the excitement of being rescued they had forgot all about him? They would leave and he would be stranded on this island all alone! The mere thought of being left by himself forever brought a horrible loneliness that settled like a stone in his chest. He shifted restlessly in Gladys' hairy arms wondering if he would ever see his friends again.
"Gilligan!"
He sat up instantly at the sound of the Skipper's voice. As he peeked over Gladys' large arm he could see his shipmate emerge from the foliage below, closely followed by the girls and the Howells.
"Skipper, I'm up here!" He waved an arm.
"Are you alright?"
"Get me down. I'm still getting smaller and the next time she kisses me I'm gonna drown!"
Gladys stared nervously at the large group forming below. She hooted loudly, clutching Gilligan close and chucked a handful of leaves down at them.
"I think you're making her mad." Gilligan said, renewing his struggle to escape. Now that his friends were down there he might just have a chance.
"Say! That gives me an idea!" The Skipper beckoned the others close to hear his plan.
Both Gilligan and Gladys watched the castaway's huddle with great interest although neither could hear a word being said. Although at one point Mr. Howell and Ginger seemed quite indignant at whatever the Skipper was suggesting. Soon some decision was made, for the Skipper broke away from the group and disappeared into the thick jungle while the others turned toward the tree where the ape and the first mate watched curiously.
Then, to Gilligan's utter astonishment, all four of them, the sophisticated Howells, the glamorous movie star and petite little Mary Ann began whip up such a scene that the first mate wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. They were all shouting at the top of their voices. Mr. Howell was waving his arms like some over-stuffed bird, Mrs. Howell was clawing the air with those white-gloved hands, Ginger waved her blue scarf above her head and Mary Ann was jumping up and down, screaming her head off and looking for all the world like a child having a tantrum. Gilligan couldn't help but let his jaw drop.
He could feel Gladys' fur bristle at the commotion. She hooted loudly waving her free arm but the castaways continued to yell, looking like a pack of monkeys themselves. She started to throw things again, bark, moss, coconuts, still with only one arm while the other kept a firm grip on the first mate. When this continued to produce no effect on the intruders she looked down at Gilligan for a moment then set him down on the branch beside her and began using both arms to hurl things down at the noisy humans.
Now free of the ape's grip he frantically searched the tree for some means of decent. There were very few branches and none he could reach, no handholds that he could see and the trunk was much to thick for him to shimmy down. His whole plight seemed hopeless. But he had to give his friends credit. They were still standing at the base of the tree, trying to dodge the debris being rained down upon them by the infuriated primate.
After only moments of this Gladys had had enough. With one swift motion she swung out of the tree and landed on the ground. The four castaways scattered with startled shrieks. But they didn't run far. Once sure they were out of striking distance they resumed shouting and taunting, working the ape into a complete frenzy. She beat the ground with both fists, bearing her large canine teeth. Then with a scream right out of a horror movie she lunged. The four castaways leaped back, turned tail and bolted. They disappeared into the jungle as fast as their feet could take them, the infuriated primate fast on their heels. He hoped that she wouldn't hurt them. Gladys liked him but she was so angry right now he didn't know what she might do if she caught up to his friends.
"Pssst. Gilligan."
Gilligan looked down to see the Skipper standing at the base of the tree.
"Come on down, Little Buddy." The Captain beckoned urgently with one hand.
The first mate shook his head. "I'm not sure I can. There's nothing to hold on to."
The Skipper looked the tree up and down appraisingly. He saw that Gilligan was right. "Jump." He held out both arms. "I'll catch you."
"Jump?!" Gilligan squeaked in disbelief. "You got to be kidding! This is like jumping off the main mast!"
"Don't be a chicken, Gilligan. It can't be much more than ten feet."
"What if you don't catch me? I'll hit the ground like an overripe cantaloupe!"
"Jump! Hurry up, before she comes back."
"But Skipper…"
"Jump, Gilligan!" The Skipper's thundering voice demanded. "That's an order!"
The first mate flinched at the severe tone. Unable to disobey such a direct order he moved to the very edge. It wasn't that he was particularly afraid of heights, on the contrary he loved to climb trees and stand on the big cliff on the north side of the island. But enjoying being up high and intentionally jumping off something so lofty were two very different things. So with a deep breath to brace himself, he closed his eyes, held his nose and stepped out into open space. "Geronimooo!"
Gilligan landed squarely in the Skipper's outstretched arms and the captain caught him easily. He couldn't have weighed much more than seven pounds and was now about the size of a typical ragdoll. "You can open your eyes now, Gilligan."
The first mate cautiously opened one eye, then the other. Seeing that he was still alive and in one piece he looked up at the Skipper and gave him a crooked smile. "Nice catch, Skipper."
The Skipper grinned a little, then looked nervously over his shoulder. "We'd better get out of here before she comes back."