19. Curiouser and Curiouser

Gilligan sat on a large rock at the edge of the lagoon, fishing pole held loosely in his hands. The simple carefree atmosphere coated the little desert isle like sugar on a gumdrop. He stared absently at the little cork bobber that floated on the surface, uninterrupted by the lazy fish that swam just below. He sat back against the trunk of a palm, just enjoying the sunlight and not particularly caring if he got a bite or not.

There was a fluttering sound just behind him and he started a bit as a pretty little bird in a pink, checkered gingham dress alit on his shoulder. "Pardon me." The little creature said politely in a voice he was sure he had heard before. "But do you have the time?"

"Uhhh." He glanced down at his Manny Moose watch. "Half past three."

"Oh, dear. I'm late!" The little creature flitted into the bushes and reappeared a moment later decked in full scuba gear, miniaturized to fit her birdie stature perfectly.

"Late for what?" Gilligan asked, as he watched her hop to the edge of the rock.

"I can't talk now!" With that the bird placed the breathing apparatus over its beak and dove into the water.

"Hey, wait!" Gilligan called after it, his curiosity piqued to the limit. What could a bird possibly be late for? And where in the world did she get a scuba mask that small? He began to stand to wave her back but his foot slipped and he tumbled off the rock, landing with a big 'splash' in the lagoon. A school of little fishes parted and dropped their schoolbooks as he sank deeper into the water. The biggest fish, possibly a large mouth bass, swam up near his face and scolded him for interrupting class.

He was about to apologize when he saw the little bird who had asked about the time swimming off in the other direction, flapping her little wings, flying easily under the water. With a kick of his feet he started off after her. "Wait! Where are you going?"

Gilligan, having been in the Navy, could swim quite fast. But the little bird in the dress was faster and soon it disappeared from sight. But he kept swimming. Hoping to catch up. "Excuse me." He asked a passing seal. "But did you see a bird? She's a bout this big." He held his thumb and forefinger about three inches apart. "And she's wearing a little pink dress."

The seal nodded and pointed up with one webbed flipper.

"Thanks." Gilligan swam upward until he broke the surface of a small pool. He frowned a bit. Wasn't I just in the ocean a second ago? After a second thought he realized Skipper always said that all water leads to the ocean so it would follow that all oceans lead to a somewhere too. This must be it. With an indifferent shrug he climbed out of the water and onto the sandy floor of a dark cave. Several large torches blazed along the walls, illuminating the stone in an eerie orange glow. He removed his hat and tried to ring as much water out as possible before placing it back on his head.

"Oh, bird!" He called, his voice echoing off the cave walls and coming right back at him. "I just want to talk to you!" As he made a circle he realized that he was at some kind of junction for tunnels splintered off in four different directions. "How am I ever going to find her?"

"Why don't you follow the tracks?" He was only slightly startled to hear his echo reply.

"What tracks?"

"Look down." His own voice replied.

"Huh?" He glanced down to see little birdie footprints in the sand. They led off into the tunnel on his right. "Hey, thanks!" He called as he began to follow them.

"Your welcome. Your welcome. Your welcome."

Maybe the Skipper's right. Gilligan thought as he moved deeper into the cave. I do talk to myself too much.

He wasn't sure how long he had followed the petite little tracks when suddenly he turned a corner and ran into a wall. At first he thought he had come to a dead end, then he saw the little door at the base of the stone wall, down near the sandy floor. It was only a foot and a half tall and perhaps somewhat less wide. The door was made of little bamboo bars and he could easily see outside. For outside was exactly what was on the other side of the door.

He could see trees, blue sky and little birds flitting about and one that wore a little pink dress. "Hey!" He called after it, trying mightily to fit through the little door but only managing to get his head and one arm through. "Little bird! Come back!"

"I can't talk now!" It called over its shoulder as it flew down into the trees, following a quaint path that he could see weaving it's way through the foliage. "It'll burn!"

Gillian found that that tiny bit of extra information fired his curiosity even further. "What will burn?" But it was too late, the little creature had flown out of sight. Struggling a bit more he tried to squeeze through the small opening, but it was no use. He was just too big. With a defeated sigh he pulled himself backward into the cave. "Maybe if I try going in backwards." He said to himself.

"That'll never work." His echo replied.

Gilligan frowned at his own disembodied voice. "How come?"

"Because going backwards will only take you to places you've already been. You want to go forwards to places you haven't."

"I guess so. But how else am I gonna fit in that hole?"

"Why don't you have a drink?"

Gilligan started as a tall bamboo glass, complete with straw and little umbrella appeared beside him. He could have sworn it hadn't been there before. "Well, I am kinda thirsty." He lifted the glass and took a cautious sip. "Hey, this is pretty good! Tastes like root beer." The cave grew a bit, and he took another sip. "Mmm, Coca-Cola." The flavor changed each time, as did the size of his surroundings. "Grape soda, strawberry malt, hot chocolate." He took in gasp as he realized suddenly that the glass he was holding had grown to the size of a large bucket. The container slipped from his hands as he looked about him in astonishment. The cave, where moments before he had to stoop to keep from bumping his head, now rose like a cathedral far above him. Turning abruptly he saw with some elation that the bamboo door was now exactly the right height for him to easily walk through.

Eagerly throwing the door open he hurried down the little jungle path, hoping if he ran fast enough he could catch up to the little bird.

It wasn't long before he came upon a small clearing. "Excuse me." He said to a large walrus in a black captain's hat and a blue shirt. "But did you see a little bird in a pink dress fly by here?"

"Why, of course I did, Little Buddy!" The Walrus gave him a hardy slap on the back that nearly sent him sprawling. "You know, that reminds me of a story. Once there was a…"

"Listen, I really don't have time to sit and chat. If she gets too far ahead I'll never find her. So if you could just tell me which way—"

"Belay that!" The Walrus bellowed, pushing him down onto the nearest log.

Gilligan shook his head and began to rise. "But I've really got to go."

"You just sit down and shut up. That's an order!"

Gilligan flinched and sat back down.

The walrus gestured with one enormous flipper and began to sing. "Oooooooh, who lives in a pineapple under the sea…?"

One side of Gilligan's face scrunched up. "How can anybody live in a pineapple? Your floors and walls would be all sticky."

The walrus paused a moment and frowned. "You know you're right. I never thought about that. It is kind of a ridiculous story when you think about it. Here's one I think you'll like. Everyone can learn something from this one!" And once again he began a spirited narration. "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale. A tale of a fateful trip…"

Gilligan had no choice but to sit and listen. But after awhile the walrus became so wrapped up in his own storytelling that he completely forgot that Gilligan was there and the first mate was able to slip away without the walrus noticing. He continued down the path, running now, trying to make up for the time he had lost.

The path turned and twisted, folded in on itself and tied itself into knots that even a sailor like Gilligan couldn't unravel and before he knew it he was hopelessly lost. He paused for a moment to catch his breath as well as his bearings, both of which were doing their best to elude him.

There had to be some way to figure out where he was. Something he remembered as a cub scout surfaced in his mind. You could always tell were you were by what side of the tree the moss was growing. He stepped over to the nearest tree and examined the green growth on the trunk very carefully.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to stare!" The moss said indignantly.

"Yes." Gilligan said, not finding a conversation with a blob of green plant life the least bit odd. "But I need to find out where I am and how to get where I'm going."

"What do you think I am an atlas? There's a map right over there!"

Gilligan looked and indeed there was a large sign with words and squiggly lines painted all over it. He moved over to look more closely. Right in the center of the map was a little red dot, above the dot were the words: 'You are here'. Beneath the same dot read: 'Not in Kansas anymore.'

Gilligan frowned as he analyzed the map for a long moment. It reminded him of one of the drawings from his two year-old cousin, with colored lines twisting wildly in each and every direction. Randomly about the map other locations were labeled: There, Yonder, Elsewhere, Nowhere, Anywhere, Point B.

He cocked his head to the right, then the left and finally bent to one side so he could look at the map upside down. It still didn't make any sense. After several minutes of this took off his cap and scratched his head in confusion. "You've got to be double jointed just to read this thing."

"Having a little trouble?" A breathy voice purred.

Gilligan looked up and was quite startled to see a seductive grin hovering just above the map. He glanced around quickly, looking for the person who had so carelessly misplaced their mouth. "Uh, are you lost?" He asked, thinking that maybe it was searching for the face it belonged to.

"Me?" It let out a distinctively feminine chuckle. "No, silly boy. But you seem to be." Slowly two flirting green eyes faded into view above the mouth. The three facial features leaped down to about waist level and the long eyelashes fluttered. "You could use a bit of guiding direction or so it would…appear." A face gradually took shape and body followed and soon Gilligan found himself conversing with a shapely ginger-colored cat. The sultry creature was nearly waist high which startled him at first, before he remembered that the concoction he had drank in the cave had made him smaller.

"Say, that's a pretty neat trick! I guess I could use a little help." He admitted.

She licked a paw and combed one ear before gracefully tossing her head. "I thought so. Someone who's turning their head upside down to look at a map is all but begging for direction."

"So which way should I go?" Gilligan looked at the many paths that separated ahead of him. The choice was quite daunting and he was glad to have a bit of help, even if it was from a cat.

"That all depends…" She circled him slowly, almost stalkingly. "…on where you're going."

"I don't really know." He said honestly. "I haven't been there yet."

She flicked one pretty red ear. "Well, then it doesn't matter which way you go." The ginger feline began to slink away, her petite paws beginning to fade from view.

"Hey, wait!" Gilligan called before she disappeared completely. "I was looking for a little bird in a pink dress."

"Oh?" She stopped, her feet swirling back into existence. "Well, you could visit the Mad Hat Lady down that path." She flicked her long silky tail to the right.

Gilligan glanced in that direction. "I donno." He mumbled uncertainly. "She's mad, you say?"

The cat shrugged. "Well, if you don't want to see her you could always visit the March Heir in that direction." Her flowing tail swished to the left.

"I think I'll go see him."

"Of course he's mad too."

"He is? Um…is there anyone around her who isn't mad?"

"Not really." She gave him a smile and a giggle that sent shivers up from his toes. "We're all mad here."

"I didn't do it. Honest!"

"Do what?"

"Whatever everybody's mad about."

The cat rolled her sparkling green eyes. "Silly boy, they're not mad at you."

"Whew. That's a relief."

"I hope you find what you're looking for." She rubbed a furry shoulder against him before gliding away, the back half of her gradually disappearing like a wisp of smoke.

"Wait." Gilligan called after her, suddenly nervous about being left in this tangled maze all alone. "Where are you going?"

When she answered she had shrunk to nothing but a head and shoulders. "To London to visit the Queen. I'm giving a command performance for her, you know." By the time she had finished speaking she had vanished, leaving only her sultry smile behind.

"Hey, Cat!" He hollered into the dark jungle surrounding him. "You forgot something!" Turning in a slow circle he wondered just where the feminine feline had gone and how she was going to eat without her mouth. By the time he had turned back even the smile had gone.

Pursing his lips he pondered the paths before him. He really did want to see where that bird had gone but on the other hand if he wandered too far he might not get home in time for dinner and he certainly didn't want to miss the coconut crème pie he knew Mary Ann was baking. And the Skipper would get sore if the water barrel wasn't full before evening.

With a shrug he took the path to the right. If he didn't find what he was looking for soon he would just turn around and retrace his steps. It wasn't long before he came across a sign: 'Country Club'. Which country? Gilligan wondered as he continued on to another sign: 'Exclusive'. And another: 'Reservation Only'. Finally he came upon a large door. No. He corrected himself. A regular sized door. Just big to me. He really needed to get big again. He knocked politely and waited for an answer.

"Oh, dear." He heard someone say. "We're not ready for company."

"Just ignore them and they'll go away. This is a private club anyway."

"But we simply can't be rude! It's bad manners. Come in!"

Gilligan opened the door a crack and peeked inside. A petite little table dressed in a lace tablecloth, an expensive looking little tea set sitting on top, was surrounded by a lush garden. There was also a very large blue hat bedecked with ribbons and bows that weaved about amid feathers and flowers of every color. A cultured-looking woman sat daintily beneath it, teacup in hand and white-gloved pinky extended. "Come in!" She repeated beckoning him with a hand that sparkled with diamonds rivaling the crown jewels. "You're just in time for tea."

"Indeed. It's nearly half past." Said a large stuffy rabbit in the chair beside her. He wore a silk cravat and the letters 'MH' were monogrammed in gold script on the left breast of his navy blazer.

"Half past what?" Gilligan asked, stepping in a bit further.

" 'Half past what' he says. The boy is obviously a Yale man!"

Ignoring the hare's huffieness the lady smiled sweetly at him. "Do have some tea, Dear."

Gilligan shook his head. "Thanks. But I really don't have time for tea."

"Don't be absurd! One always has time for tea."

"Yes! Tee time!" The March Heir, whipped a golf ball from his blazer pocket and set it upon an upside down tea cup. He grabbed a spoon, leaped up onto the table and swung it like a golf club. "Eight!"

Gilligan watched as the golf ball soared off and disappeared into the depths of the garden. "I thought golfers were supposed to yell 'fore'."

"Yes, well I'm twice as good as your average golfer."

The Hat Lady nodded, bouncing all the flowers and feathers in her gigantic hat. "He always hits it through the uprights. Now won't you sit and have a cup of tea?"

I guess one cup of tea wouldn't hurt. Gilligan thought. The chair was about chest high and it took only a bit of effort to climb into the seat.

"So, where did you come from?" The Hat Lady asked conversationally.

"My mother." Gilligan replied automatically.

"No, dear boy." She smiled at the misunderstanding. "I mean from which direction have you traveled."

"Oh, that way...or…" Gilligan frowned a bit, retracting the finger he had used to point. "…or was it that way? I'm not quite sure which way I came from. I'm kinda mixed up."

"Than you'll feel right at home around here." The March Heir said, trying to putt a sugar cube into the little pitcher of cream.

"That's actually why I came by. I wanted to ask you a question."

"Just a moment!" The Heir puffed his chest out importantly. "I ask the questions around here."

Gilligan clamped his mouth shut instantly, intimidated by the rabbit that was nearly larger than he was.

"How is your credit, my boy? Do you have insurance? When's the last time you took out a loan?" He slapped the spoon he was holding into the palm of his hand with each question.

"Fatso Flannigan loaned me his slingshot once." Gilligan replied. "When we had this bottle shooting contest. But one side of the band was longer than the other and it never really shot right unless you managed to find a lopsided rock."

"Nonsense!" The long eared creature huffed, turning to the Hat Lady for support. "The lad is full of complete nonsense."

"Well, maybe he's just thirsty." She turned to Gilligan. "Have some more tea."

"But I haven't had any yet. How can I have more?"

"Dear boy, less is more."

"Huh?"

"Just have some tea, will you?" The March Heir ordered.

Gilligan jumped slightly at the harsh tone. There were two teapots in the center of the table, both ceramic and intricately decorated. He lifted the one on the left and with some difficulty poured the steaming brown liquid into a cup that, considering his size, was about as large as a soup bowl. He took a quick sip, hoping to escape these two as quickly as possible and find someone who could actually help him. His face instantly scrunched up at the unbearably bitter taste.

The Hat Lady's blue eyes widened. "No! Dear boy, that's coffee!"

"Coffee?" Gilligan wondered why things were suddenly getting bigger again.

She shook her head, the movement ruffling all the ornaments on her outrageous hat. "Coffee is a morning beverage." She wagged a finger at him as if he had just committed some major social error.

Gilligan looked around himself in horror as things continued to grow. "Hey, what's happening?" His voice squeaked. He was now looking straight up at the underside of the table.

"Don't you know?" The Heir sniffed.

"Why, coffee stunts your growth. Everybody knows that." The Hat Lady waved a sparkling hand.

"What am I going to do? I'll never find my way home this small! I need to get big again."

"I can't help you there." The March Heir peered down at him. "I am an expert on inflation but I'm afraid not the kind you need. Besides…" He glanced down at a gold pocket watch. "I do believe we have an engagement."

"Oh!" The Hat Lady rose from the table, now towering far above the little first mate. "You're absolutely right. It just wouldn't do to be late for our lunch with the Queen." She looked down at him. "If you would be so kind as to excuse us."

"Wait!" Gilligan called after them but they quickly disappeared, arm in arm into the neatly trimmed garden. He let out a huge sigh, realizing it was hopeless.

He sat there for a long moment trying to figure out what to do next. If he wandered any further especially as small as he was he might get lost further. But he wasn't going to get any closer to home just sitting where he was either. "If I say here I'm gonna get nowhere. And I'd rather be anywhere than nowhere." With that he began to climb down, the wicker weave of the chair making a perfect ladder down to the ground.

He chose the direction that he felt was most likely to take him home and started off determinedly. The garden rose up all about him. Huge stalks of green and splashes of bright color surrounded him like a surreal forest. The feeling of insignificance was giving him an intense sense of deja vu. As he walked further into the dense jungle of flowers a chill ran up his spine. He was being watched. There was movement off to his left but when he looked there was nothing but green. Rustling to his right made him jump but he saw nothing there either. A flash of red, the snap of a twig and Gilligan felt his adrenaline rush into his head. He was ready to bolt any second. "H-hello?" He managed in a shaky voice. "Is anybody there?" He didn't really expect a response but he certainly got one.

Out from behind a large lily gingerly stepped a red game piece. On bare feet the checker slowly approached, it's shiny plastic surface glinting in the sunlight. It lowered the large spear in its right hand as it stepped right up to Gilligan, it's top barely reaching the first mate's chin. It spoke to him in a language he could not understand.

"Um…hi." He gave a small nervous wave, not quite sure what else to do.

The checker said something else in native gibberish then looked into the surrounding garden and beckoned expansively. Countless red checkers emerged from behind nearly every plant, and cautiously approached him, all of them chattering incomprehensibly. He soon found himself completely surrounded. Many of the game pieces carried sharp knives or spears, all painted bright red but none of them made any threatening moves. In fact they seemed more curious than anything, many of them poking him and tugging at his shirt.

"Unga bunga wanini." Said the first checker as it grabbed his hand pointed into the dense undergrowth.

Gilligan allowed himself to be led forward by the talking game piece, all the other checkers following close behind. "Where are we going?"

"Dodo umpa."

"I've never been there before. Is it anywhere near a little island in the South Pacific?"

The reply came in incomprehensible gibberish.

They walked for a long time, maneuvering beneath a stand of foxgloves, a field of daisies and carefully avoided a thorny bed of roses until they came to a clearing where many more checker people greeted them. There had to be at least a hundred, everyone of them gathering around Gilligan. He was quite uncomfortable with all the attention.

Suddenly a larger checker person appeared at the edge of the group, actually he appeared to be two checkers stuck together. He held a gnarled twig in one wrinkled hand. The others parted before him as he approached the bewildered sailor. Gilligan suspected that he was their chief. The Chief checker rose both hands and the others instantly fell silent. "Boola!" With that he fell to his knees and bowed to the ground. The others quickly followed suit in a great chorus of: BOOLA!

Gilligan tugged at his collar at a complete loss as to what exactly was going on and why he, of all people, was being worshiped. "You guys must think I'm somebody else. See, my name's Gilligan."

"'Boola' means 'savior'."

Gilligan whipped around at the sound of the new voice. There at the edge of the clearing, sitting atop a large mushroom was a caterpillar. It seemed to be watching the entire proceedings passively. Gilligan stepped over several bowing checker people and hurried over to the thankfully English-speaking creature. "What do they want from me?"

"They think you are their prophesied new red king." The caterpillar pointed at him with all six hands. "The one who will give them victory over their black enemies."

Gilligan shook his head. "But I'm not a king! And I don't want to fight anybody. I just want to get big again and go home."

"I sympathize with your predicament. But I'm afraid they won't take no for an answer. I have been studying their culture for many years and they have been waiting for an opertunity to gain the upper hand over their opponents."

"But why me? I didn't do anything special."

"It's your shirt."

"My shirt?"

"That deep crimson color indicates to them that you are on their side. If you had been unfortunate enough to wear black you would certainly not be alive."

Gilligan gulped. "Who are they fighting?"

"Other checkers."

The first mate frowned a little. "They're fighting each other? That doesn't make any sense."

The caterpillar shook his head as if he agreed. "It's been going on for millennia. The blacks and the reds. They fight, capture one another never seeing how alike they really are. It is quite sad. But they are savages after all."

Gilligan glanced back toward the clearing full of checkers who were beginning to peek up from their prone positions. "Why do they fight?"

"I don't think they really know. It's been going on for so long the memory of the first battle is likely lost in the sands of time."

"That's really too bad." Gilligan said. "But I can't stay and be there king. I've got to get home." His shoulders sagged with a despairing sigh. "But I'll never make it like this." With one sweeping gesture he indicated his whole diminutive self.

The caterpillar gazed at him sympathetically for a long moment. "I may know of something that could help your situation."

Gilligan instantly perked up. "Really?"

"Yes. You see there is a blah blah blah that has blah blah blah, blah blah. So it can blah blah blah.

Gilligan just stared blankly for a moment. "Um, so you can help me?"

"That's what I just said."

"I musta missed it."

"But I'm afraid there is something else I must tend to first." With that the caterpillar started into the foliage. "I will return."

Gilligan started after him, not wanting to be abandoned for the third time by someone who could possibly help him. But he had only taken two steps before five checker people armed with spears moved to block his path. "Listen, I need to go. He can help me get home."

But they were having none of it. They gestured with their weapons that he should return to the center of the clearing.

"You guys don't want me for a king." Gilligan explained desperately. "Really. I'm irresponsible. The Skipper always says so. And I've got no authority. I was President once and I couldn't get anything done."

But his protests went unheard or at least un-understood. They made it quite clear that he was staying whether he wanted to or not.

Hours passed and Gilligan found himself becoming more and more certain that the caterpillar was not coming back. He sat cross-legged on the ground and watched as many of the checker people danced wildly around a huge bonfire, chanting and yelling at the top of their voices. A loud beat that thundered through the air was being pounded out on a hollow twig. They had been going at this for a very long time before the Chief checker rose and called in a loud voice: "Mako!"

The others responded by raising their weapons high and echoing the word: "Mako!"

The Chief motioned for Gilligan to rise. "Mako Boola!"

That aroused an ear splitting scream from every one of them that could only be interpreted as a war cry. With that the Chief shoved a large spear in Gilligan's hand.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

The Chief didn't answer. He simply grabbed Gilligan by the arm and headed down a path through the dense garden. The mob of armed game pieces followed, shouting and waving enthusiastically.

Gilligan had no choice but to go along with the Chief, leading the disorderly procession.

Soon the garden abruptly gave way, all the rich green foliage suddenly disappearing. Before them lay a vast field that was divided into alternating black and red squares. It stretched on as far as he could see.

"What is this place?" He asked, now not expecting to receive an intelligible answer.

"It's the battlefield." Said the voice of the caterpillar.

"You came back!" Gilligan exclaimed in delight, searching for his one friend in this madhouse. "Where are you?"

"Up here."

Gilligan turned his head skyward to see a beautiful purple and blue butterfly flitting over his head. "What happened to you?"

"Metamorphosis."

The Chief checker poked Gilligan in the arm to get his attention then motioned across the field to an asymmetrical smudge of black on the checkered field. At first he couldn't tell what it was but as squinted against the sun he could see that the smudge was slowly moving toward them. He took in a gasp of realization. They were other checkers, black pieces. They carried weapons as well.

The red men behind him began to surge forward, pushing him along with them.

"I don't want to fight!" He shouted frantically over the battle cries, being swept along with the unruly mob.

"Here." The butterfly dropped something down toward the first mate.

Gilligan let the spear fall from his hands as he caught the falling object. It was a large greenish berry that sat in his palm as large as a softball.

"Eat it!"

He instantly did as he was told and took a large bite out of the fruit. Immediately his surroundings began to shrink and everything grew gradually smaller. Soon the garden behind him was just a garden not a frightening jungle and the checkers the size checkers should be. They were crowding around his sneakers, waving their weapons angrily at him. "Sorry, but I've got to get home."

Suddenly they began climbing up his shoes. He took a startled step back. "Hey!" The black checkers quickly joined them, clambering up his laces, onto his socks and trying to work their way up his pant leg. He shook one foot in an attempt to dislodge his attackers. "What's the big idea? Get off!"

The butterfly danced in the air in front of them. "I'm afraid that you have broken one of their most sacred taboos."

Gilligan started backing up, trying to get away but he seemed to be surrounded. "What? What did I do?"

"They believe that anyone over five feet high is a insult to the Gods and must be executed."

"Executed?" Gilligan squeaked. At that he leaped over the red and black crowd that surrounded him and bolted. He ran hard his white sneakers pounding across the checkered battlefield. He stole a glance over his shoulder and took in a terrified gasp. Were before there had only been a few hundred checkers now there were thousands. They covered the ground as far as he could see and despite their size they were gaining!

Suddenly before him the world ended. He skidded to a stop at the edge of a huge chasm. Wind rushed up from the depths and he had to hold on to his hat. There was no bottom, the side of the cliff simply disappeared down into impenetrable mist. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned to face the army. Then they were on him, climbing up his legs, his clothes and poking him with their tiny but nonetheless painful weapons. He screamed and swatted at them, trying everything to get them off. His feet stumbled backwards, giving ground until his heel found nothing but air. Arms flailed as he felt himself falling backwards into endless darkness.

6:58 AM day 4

There was a loud 'crash' as Gilligan hit something hard. "Get them off! Get them off!" He cried, frantically trying to fend off the attacking army.

"Gilligan wake up! Quit thrashing around or you're going to break something." Strong hands grabbed him by both shoulders and gave him a firm shake that wretched him from his nightmare.

Gilligan's eyes opened to see the Skipper's face not far from his own. He relaxed a bit putting a hand to his chest. "What an awful dream. Skipper, you wouldn't believe…"

But the captain didn't let him finish. "Gilligan, look!" The big man said with nothing short of elation. "You're big again!"

Gilligan frowned. "I know that. The caterpillar gave me that stuff and that's why the checker people were attacking me and…" Gilligan's blue eyes bulged and he leaped to his feet, realization hitting him like a ton of coconuts. He spun in a circle, taking in his surroundings in one quick sweep, the toppled table and chair, the crushed matchbox, the hammocks and finally his best friend who was now grinning from ear to ear at perfectly acceptable eye level. "Skipper!" Gilligan exclaimed, feeling as if his heart would explode with sheer delight. "I'm big again!"

7:10 AM day 4

"Five eleven." The Professor smiled as he began to roll up Mary Ann's tape measure. "You're back to normal."

"Yahoooo!" Gilligan twirled his hat over his head before tossing it over his shoulder. He could never remember being so happy or relieved. His future had returned. "You hear that everybody!" With a triumphant leap he threw the door open and burst from the hut. "I'm me again!" He grabbed a startled Mary Ann by both arms and swung her in a jubilant circle finally pulling her into a tight hug. After about half a second his brain registered just who he had his arms around and he quickly released her and stepped back, the color of his cheeks nearly matching his shirt.

She just smiled and closed the distance that he had just put between them, pulling him back. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Before he had a chance to respond to her Mr. Howell grabbed his hand in and shook it vigorously. "Congratulations, Gilligan, it seems that you've received a full refund!"

"We're so happy to have the rest of you back, Dear." Mrs. Howell patted him on the cheek.

"Me and you both!" Gilligan replied with a laugh.

Ginger came up behind him, held him firmly by both shoulders so he couldn't escape and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "That's for pulling through for us."

Gilligan shrugged a bit uncomfortably but managed to give her a polite smile.

"How did this happen, Professor?" The Skipper pushed his hat back to scratch his head as he watched his first mate revel in his regained size. It wasn't that he really cared how his Little Buddy had been restored, he was simply glad it happened. He had been so worried the night before. With all that had happened to Gilligan over the last few days he had dreaded the thought of having to keep his tiny first mate out of trouble for the rest of their exile. Sooner or later someone was bound to step on him. But his miraculous recovery certainly was puzzling. "I mean he just regrew overnight."

The Professor's eyebrows came together thoughtfully. "I'll admit that I am not entirely certain. But there are really only two possibilities. Either the effect of the shrink ray was impermanent and simply wore off or our last test was indeed successful and the results were somehow postponed. As I have stated previously, I was not fully comprehend all the controls functions. Now that I consider it there were very likely controls for the rate of change as well as a delaying function." He paused for a long moment before adding, loud enough that Gilligan could hear over the clamor of his other friends: "You know, you got a little more than your height back."

The others quieted a bit.

Gilligan cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"Your wrist."

The young man's eyes widened as he looked down at his arm which had been nothing but pain the day before. He moved his hand back and forth and experimentally wiggled his fingers. The pain was gone. Even the bruising was now nonexistent. "You know my uncle Walter always said that our family always healed fast. But this is ridiculous!"

"Your bones knitted as they grew." The Professor explained, finally glad that he had some good news to tell his young friend.

Gilligan gave him an odd look. "My bones can knit?" His confused expression quickly morphed into a mischievous grin. "You think they can make me a sweater?"

The Skipper rolled his eyes and Mary Ann giggled.

"Well," Gillian took a deep breath and let it out with a smile, just enjoying in his normal sized surroundings. "I better go down and check the lobster traps. Might as well get it done early, right?"

The Skipper gave his first mate a quizzical frown. "What?" He had never known Gilligan to volunteer to do that particular task before.

Gilligan raised a finger and turned to the millionaire. "And don't worry, Mr. Howell, when I'm done with that I'll boil some water so you can have your Sunday bath."

They all watched in some bewilderment as Gilligan skipped off toward the lagoon.

The Skipper quirked an eyebrow as he turned to the Professor. "You sure he's alright?"

The Professor just laughed.