Mary Jane and the Monkey
I always thought I'd have another chance
And I'd be seeing you again
...
I didn't know the last time that we met
Would be the last time we would meet
"Things I Never Said," Gilligan's Island: The Musical
Two
Face down in the dirt, Gilligan quickly ran his hands over his back, searching for the wound that he was sure would do him in. He brought his hands around in front of his face. Clean. Gilligan's eyes widened. Kincaid had missed him again.
Gilligan carefully peered over the thicket of towering grass that he dove into for cover and realized with a sharp gasp that Mary Ann had been running toward him when the gunshot rang out and now was nowhere to be seen. Not seeing Kincaid either, Gilligan quickly crawled through the underbrush to where he watched her disappear.
Parting two thick palm leaves, Gilligan discovered her body at the base of a huge tree, absolutely motionless, tall grass waving peacefully in the breeze three feet above her. Gilligan's heart skipped a few beats and then began pounding against his ribcage.
Gilligan hurried to her side and realized with a flood of relief that she was weeping into the dirt, a tiny mud river beginning to form next to her tightly closed eyes. Gilligan quickly looked her over and, not seeing any visible injuries, gently touched her on the shoulder.
Mary Ann's head snapped up. Her eyes searched his for a moment, trying to decide if he was real, if they were alive, or if this was heaven and she wordlessly scrambled into his arms, clutching him tightly. "I thought he got you," she finally whispered into his shoulder.
Gilligan shook his head and wrapped his arms around her. "I thought he got you." Gilligan noticed the culprit of her descent, a huge gnarled tree root rising nearly eight inches from the ground next to the trunk, and sighed with gratitude. "Mary Ann, what are you doing h—?"
Mary Ann looked up at him, brows furrowed questioningly. Gilligan silently shook his head, warning her to stay quiet, and nodded towards the clump of grass a hundred yards away that he had used for cover. Kincaid was stalking towards it, gun resting on his shoulder confidently. Mary Ann gasped inaudibly and tightened her arms around him. "Get down!" Gilligan mouthed as he pushed her to the ground amid another mass of tall grass, throwing himself on top of her protectively.
Kincaid sauntered to the spot where he saw Gilligan go down expecting to find his prey either defeated or severely incapacitated. Instead he found a Gilligan-shaped indentation in the grass, but no trace of the first mate and no sign that he had been hit.
From the safety of their own cavern of soaring island grass, Gilligan and Mary Ann clung to each other and listened as Kincaid cursed Gilligan repeatedly, kicking his tall boots irately through the dry grass. Gilligan smirked at Kincaid's frustration and Mary Ann buried her face in his neck.
Kincaid suddenly stopped his tantrum. He cocked his head to one side, listening. The two castaways held their breath as the hunter turned in a slow pivot, surveying the landscape, smelling the air, ears twitching at the slightest sound like a well-trained bloodhound. All of his senses were on high alert as he used his years of experience to determine which way Gilligan had fled. Kincaid finally made what he considered an informed decision and stormed off in the complete opposite direction.
Gilligan and Mary Ann waited until the sound of his footsteps in the brush faded into the distance to exhale. They lay still for a moment, Mary Ann curled against his chest, her fingernails digging into his back and his fingers tangled in her pigtails. Gilligan slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and shook his head clear. He took Mary Ann's hands to pull her from the ground and she immediately climbed into his lap, gathering him into her arms again. He rested his chin on her shoulder, grateful for the opportunity to rest for a moment.
Mary Ann, however, was ever vigilant. She had no intention of letting him out of her sight until the twenty-four hour hunt was over. She felt useful and helpful just being there with him, to encourage and hold him, as if her delicate arms could somehow protect him from a psychotic hunter. Her optimism increased with every minute that passed; every second that she counted in her head brought them that much closer to being done with this nightmare.
Gilligan suddenly snored loudly and Mary Ann burst out laughing.
Gilligan's eyes flew open and he flinched, reflexively tightening his arms around her. He heard Mary Ann yelp as he knocked the wind out of her before he remembered where he was and how he got there. It took him another second to remember where she was and his newly-rested brain cells allowed him enough normal function to feel slightly uncomfortable.
"Did I fall asleep?"
"A little. Do you feel better?"
He gave the jungle over her shoulder a sheepish smile. "A little. Thanks."
Mary Ann gave him an extra squeeze. "Good. Now let's go. If we stay in one place too long, he's bound to come back."
Mary Ann let go of him and tried to stand, but Gilligan caught her arms, shaking his head. "No, Mary Ann, you gotta go back to the others."
"Don't be silly, Gilligan. I'm not letting you do this alone."
"Silly?" he squeaked, gaping at her. "I'm not being silly, Mary Ann, I'm being serious! You could get killed!"
"So could you!" she shot back. They glared at each other stubbornly, but her bottom lip was beginning to quiver dangerously.
Mary Ann was supposed to be brave and strong for his sake. She had repeated it to herself over and over. She was not going to revert to her weepy emotional self and force Gilligan to reassure her like he always did. Not when he was the one in danger.
Gilligan closed his eyes and shook his head vehemently. "No! No, no, no. I could live with myself if I got killed, but not if anything happened to you. You gotta go back to the others."
"No! I'm going to help you!" Mary Ann managed to blurt out before she was destroyed from within and her face crumbled.
"Mary Ann! Don't cry. Mary Ann, listen." Gilligan took her face in his hands and forced her to look him in the eye. "Listen. You already helped me. A lot. You let me take a nap on you just now. Which I really needed. And you helped me the other night – more than Mr. Howell and Ginger did – just by being there. You helped me sleep through the night. And you told me my favorite story about Mary Jane and the monkey."
Mary Ann tried to laugh, but a strangled wet sob escaped instead. It was disgusting, but Gilligan stayed put, her tears beginning to pool in his hands. "That's such a stupid story," she managed to choke out.
Gilligan grinned. "I love that story."
Mary Ann sniffled dramatically. "I thought you were asleep."
"I was. But I dreamed about you. And the story," he added quickly, looking characteristically embarrassed for a second. "I knew you were there." He paused, smiled to himself, and turned a pale shade of red, but couldn't stop himself from continuing. "When I can't sleep, I think about you so I'll dream that you're telling me the story. That way I know I'll stay asleep to hear the end because it's my favorite part." Mary Ann blinked at him, the tears clinging to her lashes making it impossible to see him clearly. She was trying to decide the best way to reply to his inadvertently adorable admission short of jumping him on the spot when he suddenly gasped. "Mary Ann, I have an idea!"
"What?"
"We can trick Kincaid! Just like Mary Jane and the monkey tricked the bobcat!"
Mary Ann's mind fast forwarded through the story until she recalled the hoax contrived by a little girl and her primate friend and her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. "But we don't have any lions on the island. Not any more, at least."
"But we have something else." Gilligan grinned slyly. "In that thick grove over on the plateau."
Mary Ann's eyes widened as she began to realize what he was planning. "Gilligan, no! You have to stay away from Kincaid, not lure him into some stupid trap!" Mary Ann was becoming more high-pitched and frantic with every sentence she blurted out. "You can't base a plan to save your life on a Martha Summers story! We never let her help us with our homework because she always made up history!" She tried to shake her head, but Gilligan held steady to her cheeks and forced her to look him in the eye again.
"No, Mary Ann, this'll work. I know it. But I need your help. We're a team now. It's just you and me against the world. We're Mary Jane and the monkey." Gilligan paused and shot her an innocent smile. "Which one do you want to be?"
Mary Ann couldn't stop the laugh that burst from her and Gilligan grinned. She laid her hand warmly on his, still cradling her face, and let her gaze drop to the ground between them. "Mary Jane."
"Good. 'Cause I look terrible in pigtails. You know what to do, right?"
Mary Ann looked into his eyes for a long moment, hers gradually refilling with moisture, and finally nodded faintly.
"But you have to promise me that you'll go back to the others after this, okay? No matter what." She felt fresh tears attempting to force their way out and she tried to blink them back. "Promise," he demanded and Mary Ann nodded again, reluctantly.
Gilligan wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, which Mary Ann felt trembling despite the calm smile he gave her. "Give me fifteen minutes." He carefully parted the tall grass and peered from the safety of their hideout before slipping through the blades and disappearing, leaving Mary Ann alone in the tiny clearing.
Although he had a plan, it was still a Gilligan plan. And as far as Mary Ann was concerned, the only thing more unpredictable than a Gilligan plan was a Gilligan plan based on one of Aunt Martha's stories.
Mary Ann watched the tall blades of grass snap back behind him and sway into place, her fingers gripping the sod beside her, nearly ripping the soft moss from the ground. She couldn't let what could be her last memory of Gilligan be of him leaving her.
What if Kincaid had been waiting for him?
What if he was listening to their entire conversation?
What if he knew their plan?
What if he knocked Gilligan out and dragged him away?
What if Gilligan was already...?
"Gilli—!" was all that escaped her throat before she began suffocating on her own anxiety.
Mary Ann was on the verge of hyperventilating when Gilligan's head finally reappeared through the grass wall and glanced around in confusion. She hadn't moved. She was still kneeling in the moss, sitting on her heels with dirt dusting her light blue sweater, whisps of hair escaping from their pigtails and a cocktail of mascara and tears running down her cheeks.
Gilligan watched terror, shock, and then relief flood over her features at his return and he fell to his knees before her. Mary Ann reached out with shaking hands and ended up with fistfulls of his shirt. She opened her mouth with no acute plans of what to say, but found she still couldn't make a sound anyway. Finally, she forced out three little words:
"Please come back."
Gilligan nodded. "I will." He offered her one last unsteady smile before turning away again.
"Gilligan!"
The instant he knelt before her again, Mary Ann immediately grabbed his jaw and kissed him. She pulled him to her and kissed him like she'd never kissed anyone before.
Like how Horace Higgenbotham had tried to kiss her when they were thirteen and consequently got himself chased through the wheat field by her uncles.
Like she'd never see him again.
Mary Ann was overwhelmed with so many different emotions that she didn't know what else to do. Maybe she was trying to give him some of her energy, her stamina, something. Maybe she was subconsciously taking a page from Ginger's book and trying to convince him not to leave. Or maybe she just couldn't take the chance of never seeing him again without having done it. Maybe she just needed him to know.
When Mary Ann finally released him and opened her eyes, Gilligan was staring at her, mouth hanging open in astonishment. He blinked twice, slowly, and she let her hands fall from his cheeks. "Now you can go."
"I don't want to."
When she spoke, her tone straddled the line between desperate agreement and a soft reprimand. "Go."