11. Lost

10:00 AM day 3

"Skipperrrr! Professor! Mary Ann! ANYBODY!!" Only the cry of a jungle bird answered Gilligan's calls.

Stems and stalks shot from the ground, arcing over his head to create a ceiling of huge luxuriant leaves and ferns. The thick foliage blocked most of the sun's rays and only small patches of light actually reached the ground. Dark green corridors stretched forever in every direction. It was like trying to navigate a natural maze. At first he had thought he was heading toward camp but now he was sure he had gone the wrong way.

The Skipper had once told him that if he was lost he should stay put and wait until someone found him. But how could anyone ever find him when he was so small? He hugged himself and shivered a little.

Usually he didn't mind being a little lost. The island wasn't that big and he knew he could always follow the beach back to the lagoon. But now, he didn't even know how to get to the beach, or even if he could. The sounds of the jungle were no longer pleasant and calming. Every breaking twig or rustling leaf made him jump.

He kept walking, hoping that by some miracle he would come across one of his friends or stumble into the clearing. As he walked a slight whine, a very high pitched 'eeeeee' reached his ears. "Hello?" His wide blue eyes searched the thick wilderness around him and saw nothing but green. "Is anybody there?" Swallowing hard he walked a bit faster. The sound quickly grew in volume and he wanted to run but he couldn't even tell where it was coming from. Then suddenly he felt a slight weight on his back, just behind his shoulder, and at the exact same instant there was a sharp pain, like someone had jabbed him with a needle.

He screamed and bolted, running and trying to swat at the thing on his back simultaneously. The weight lifted and the whine returned, louder than ever. There was a slight rush of air as the whining thing zipped past his ear. Then suddenly there it was in front of him. His sneakers skidded on the carpet of leaves as he backpedaled, trying to instantaneously reverse direction. He hadn't even completed the turn when a stray shoelace sent him tumbling onto his back.

A creature about the size of a sparrow hovered above him on small transparent wings. Long, spindly legs dangled from its insectoid body, and two feathery antennae waved in the breeze. But the most frightening thing was the long, sharp proboscis that protruded from between two black spherical eyes. It took him a moment to recognize the creature as the vampire of the insect world…a mosquito.

"Aaaaah!" He scrambled backwards as it hovered in closer. It may have been small, even in comparison to him but it was just about the scariest thing he had ever laid eyes on. And he knew it had just given him a nasty bite. He turned, leaped to his feet and ran. But he had only taken a few steps before the mosquito was in front of him again. Every direction he would turn the little creature would fly ahead and block his path. It was just faster than him. He was blocked on all sides by one creepy little bug.

"Listen," He backed up slowly as the creature advanced. "You don't want to drink my blood. Really. I drink a lot so it's probably all watered down." His heel caught on something and he nearly fell over. He allowed himself a quick glance down to see a stick, about as big around as his arm. An idea hit him and he reached down slowly, still watching the menacing little thing come closer. "And back home, when my doctor tried to give me a shot he said my veins were hard to find. It'd be too much trouble." His fingers tightened around the stick and he brought it up behind his back. "Besides, I'm so little you wouldn't get a decent meal out of me anyway. Why don't you go pick on somebody who's got some to spare?" With that he swung with all his might, wielding the stick like a baseball bat. The mosquito easily dodged the blow and began flying around him in dizzying circles. Gilligan tried hard to keep his eye on the attacker but it was simply impossible. It seemed to be everywhere at once. But he kept at it, one blind swing after another, until he felt his arms would give out.

Then there was a 'crack' as he felt it hit home. The blow sent the creature arcing away like a fly ball until it disappeared into a large patch of moss. Gilligan just stood there, panting, expecting it to rise back up and come at him again. But as he brought the stick up he realized it wasn't coming back. There, just in the middle of his makeshift weapon, amidst some sticky goo, was a wing, a hairy leg and a couple other unidentifiable insect parts. He shuddered and dropped it in disgust.

Once again he started walking, even more cautiously now, hoping to come across something that he knew, something that would point him in the direction of camp. But nothing was familiar, and as he wandered he realized that any landmarks that he might have known before would look so different that he wouldn't even recognize them.

His only hope was either for someone to happen by and hear him or for him to accidentally stumble upon camp. And the more he walked the less likely either option seemed. "Skipperrrr! Somebody? Help!"

He tried to bring both hands up to cup around his mouth, hoping the sound would carry farther. But he suddenly stopped and winced. The whole right side of his back, where the mosquito had bit him was both tender and itched like crazy. Every time he moved his right arm the muscles around his shoulder blade protested strongly. Try as he might he couldn't reach that far back to either scratch or rub the spot.

With a sigh of both despair and frustration he flopped down onto a thick twig that was more like a large log compared to him. "What am I going to do?" He asked no one in particular.

There came a reply but it was not something he wanted to hear. There was a loud 'hiss', like the sound of air being let out of a tire and the log beneath him began to move. He leaped up with a yelp as if his seat had been hot. A huge, triangular head rose high above him on a long thin neck. His heart nearly stopped as he realized that what he had just been sitting on was not a stick but a… "SNAKE!" He couldn't help but scream and point. A huge orange and black tongue flicked out of the Cadillac sized head, tasting the air and no doubt Gilligan as well. Before the creature had a chance to strike Gilligan was already running full tilt in the opposite direction. He could hear the dragon sized serpent taking up pursuit, it's scales brushing against the carpet of leaves as it slithered through the undergrowth. It was right on him, he just knew it.

Gilligan turned his head a bit to look over his shoulder to check his pursuer's progress and the next thing he knew he was flat on his back, the entire world fading in and out of focus and a sharp pain in his temple. He shook his head to clear it, realizing almost instantly that he had run into a low hanging twig.

A long S-shaped silhouette loomed into his vision and he gasped as he remembered the snake. He screamed and automatically threw both hands up as if that would protect him from his imminent doom. Then there was another scream much louder than Gilligan's and a shadow engulfed both predator and prey. Giant wings beat the air as razor sharp talons came down upon the snake's midsection. The reptile gave an angry hiss and struck in retaliation, it's coils writhing around the bird's legs. Gilligan clambered back as the hawk's hook like beak pecked and squawked at the struggling snake.

He turned from the battle and ran. Just ahead was a log. A real one, the size of his entire school back home in Pennsylvania. His heart rose and he ran faster as he saw an opening beneath the log, a space just big enough for him. He dove straight under scrambling as far back as he could into the recess. It was dark and damp, smelling strongly of earth and rotting wood. There was just barely enough room for him to sit up. Through the thin crack of an opening he watched as the hawk and snake struggled, wings flapping and coils thrashing. Finally the snake went limp and the Godzilla sized bird flew off with its latest prize dangling from its claws.

Gilligan didn't come out. He huddled in the back of the tiny crevasse, hugging his knees. His blue eyes were wide, staring straight ahead, his entire body shook uncontrollably and his breath came in quick gasps. The jungle was no longer his friend, a pleasant place to take an evening stroll. Now it was dark and sinister; an immense maze inhabited by horrors from his worst nightmares. Danger lurked around every corner, behind every object. He could never be safe again.

"Skipper…where are you?" He asked in a trembling whisper.

11:50 AM day 3

The Skipper started into the jungle but was halted by Mary Ann's voice.

"Where are you going?" The young brunette tilted her head as she approached.

"To get some more bamboo poles." He hooked a thumb towards the forest behind him. "One of the walls in the supply hut needs fixing."

"If were going to be rescued soon what's the use in fixing the huts?"

The Skipper chortled. "You know, you're right. I guess old habits die hard."

She laughed too. "I was going to tell you not to go anywhere anyway. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes."

"Oh, say. How's Gilligan? Did he give you any trouble?"

Mary Ann shook her head. "He seemed a little listless this morning. But I haven't seen him for a while. He's with Ginger."

As if taking a cue the movie star stepped up behind them. "Is lunch ready yet."

"Almost." Mary Ann said, sounding slightly perturbed. After all Ginger had been supposed to help her. "Where's Gilligan?"

Ginger shrugged her bare shoulders as if she couldn't care less. "How should I know? The last time I saw him he was with Mr. Howell."

Just then the millionaire stepped out of his hut with his wife at his arm. The Skipper waved them over.

"Is Gilligan with you?"

"Heavens no! I never associate with the lower class." The rich man laughed at his own joke but stopped mid-chuckle at the Skipper's withering look. "But seriously, Captain I haven't seen the lad for hours. Not that there's really much to see." He couldn't help but add.

"Maybe he's with the Professor." Mary Ann suggested hopefully.

The Skipper shook his head already getting a bit concerned. "I don't think so."

"Well, he couldn't have gone far." Ginger added. "He's got to be around here somewhere." So saying the movie star took a peek under the table.

The Skipper nodded, hoping that she was right and his little buddy hadn't been carried off again by some native animal. "If he's close by maybe he'll hear if we call him." He cupped a hand over his mouth. "Gilligaaaan!"

The others quickly followed suit, shouting the first mate's name and searching any place that he could possibly be hiding, such as inside the fruit bowl and under the lounge chair.

11:55 AM day 3

Inside the log Gilligan sat pressed up against the back of the little hole, arms wrapped around his legs so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He wondered how long it would take to starve to death because he had no intention of ever leaving the dark sanctuary.

The sound of voices made him sit up straight. They were calling him. His heart jumped in his and just as quickly he leaped out into the open, all thoughts of lurking dangers instantly wiped from his mind. "I'm coming! Keep yelling. I'm coming!" He ran in the direction of the voices, his legs pumping as hard as he could possibly push them, bounding over pebbles and ducking under twigs. Twice he tripped and fell but he jumped right back up and kept going, knowing his life depended on it.

Finally the dark foliage over his head disappeared and he burst out into the sunlight. Straight ahead was a forest of legs and shoes. "Skipper!" He cried, running for the pair of blue sneakers topped by white trousers.

"Look!" Mary Ann's voice exclaimed as she pointed to the little figure sprinting in their direction.

"There you are!" The Skipper asked lowering a hand, which Gilligan leaped onto as if it were a life raft.

The captain brought his hand and his little first mate up to eye level. "Where in the seven seas have you been? How many times do I have to tell you not to wander off?!"

"Oh, Skipper, it was awful!" Gilligan instantly went into hyperactive narration mode. "I was walking along, just walking along when suddenly 'eeeeee'!" He mimicked the mosquito's high pitched whine while his hand flailed in the air, copying the insect's erratic flight pattern. "And then it bit me, Skipper. It bit me! So I started swinging." He held his fists together like they gripped an invisible stick. "I swung and swung and swung!" With each word he whipped his arms around, narrowly missing his now non-existent assailant. "And then I hit it!" He clapped his hands loudly. "But that's not all! Then I sat down on a…" He made some incomprehensible gesture. "And it came alive! It was huge with…" He hissed and struck the air with two curved fingers. "I ran. I must have been going like eighty but then I fell." He demonstrated, kicking his legs out from under him and landing on his backside. Quickly he leaped back up. "It was coming closer and closer. I knew I was done for. And then…BRAWK!" He flapped his arms then brought his hands together, making them squawk and hiss at each other. With Gilligan's high-speed storytelling the entire account had taken about six seconds.

"Gilligan! Gilligan. Calm down, Little Buddy." The Skipper urged, having caught only a small fraction of Gilligan's story and understanding none of it.

"I was so scared." The young man's voice slowed and quieted. "I thought I was going to be lost out there forever."

As the Skipper looked down at his tiny friend he realized that Gilligan could easily have been hopelessly lost and it was a miracle that they had found him at all. It was obvious that he was going to have to make some restrictions. "Little Buddy, I hate to do this to you. But from now until you are your natural height I want you to stay within sight of one of us."

Gilligan's jaw dropped. "But Skipper!" He threw both hands out and instantly wished he hadn't. "Ow!" A hand instantly went to his shoulder. His wild narration had managed to compound the pain in his back.

"What's wrong, Gilligan?" Mary Ann was the first to be concerned.

"I told you. It bit me."

"What bit you?" The Skipper asked in complete confusion.

Gilligan frowned at the question, looking both hurt and a bit annoyed. "Weren't you listening?"