THE PRODUCER
"And that is the answer that you get from me," Skipper chanted, annoyed at Gilligan, as usual.
Gilligan gave the captain a look, but did not reply. He just settled on the hard ground, and waited till his roommate fell asleep. He stood up a half- hour later and took his pillow, blanket and diary outside with him. Once he was outside, he began to sing again, soft and sweetly:
"I ask to be, or not to be, a rogue or peasant slave is what you see, a boy who loves his mother's knee, and so I ask to be or not to be. So here's my plea, I beg of thee, and say you see a little hope for me. To fight or flee, to fight or flee, I ask myself… to be or not to be! Gilligan sang.
As he finished the verse, a short, very soft sound of applause was heard and Gilligan turned quickly to find Mary Ann behind him. She had awakened, feeling thirsty, and saw Gilligan outside. She had gotten herself a coconut, pierced it, and poured the juice into a cup before going over to listen.
"Mary Ann you scared me!" Gilligan chided her, and she smiled.
"I'm sorry, Gilligan. I came out for a drink and couldn't pass up the free concert," she explained. Gilligan chuckled and a smile stayed on his face.
"I can't stop singing my song… it was so much fun doing that play," he answered.
"Yeah, real fun," Mary Ann muttered. Her smile vanished, and she turned away from her friend and walked to their large table and sat in a chair.
Gilligan's smile faltered as well and he followed her. "Are you all right Mary Ann?" he asked, and she shrugged and looked up at him. She was silent as she studied his young, handsome face with his caring eyes that were far too gullible and trusting for any man.
"I'm fine Gilligan, just tired," she admitted after a moment. She knew she had phrased her answer wrong a second later when she realized Gilligan had picked her up in his arms.
"I'll take you back to your hut, then," he offered, but Mary Ann squirmed.
"Put me down, Gilligan! I don't mean tired as in 'I want to sleep'," she said, and she was immediately set down on her feet again. The young woman fixed her shirt and sat back down on her chair. "I'm tired of this island, is what I meant!" she clarified.
Gilligan nodded. "Oh…Yeah… I see what you mean," he said softly. Then he smiled as an idea came to him.
"Why don't we go butterfly hunting tomorrow, and then maybe we can put that show back on again, and that will make you happy Mary Ann?" he suggested.
She had to smile at that. "It sounds wonderful, Gilligan. I guess I'll go to sleep now - good night," she said. She stood, kissed his cheek and then disappeared.
But Mary Ann found herself humming his song all the way to her hut. She snuck a look back at Gilligan, and smiled. I wish I could see the world like you Gilligan, how do you always manage to keep your spirits up after all this time? she wondered. As far as Mary Ann figured, everyone but Gilligan was only acting happy. He always seemed to be genuine. If only I could read his diary again… her thoughts went on…
Gilligan watched his friend leave before lighting his candle.
Dear Diary,
Anuther man cam to the iland, but he dednt rescu us. Ges we wer too gud at sengen and he gut scard like the Musqeetoes. This guy wus a producer, what evr that mens. Prafesser sad we had to put un a play to emprees, him so we did Hamlet. I was Hamlet and I likd my sung. I shud go unto show busness, diary.
Gilligan