"You're sure this is what you want?"
The Skipper nodded. "And not just for the, well, female companionship. There are things I miss about civilization, but we have been away a long time. And I'm not getting any younger. It might not be so easy for me to start all over again, get a new ship, a new first mate."
"I'm sure Gilligan would be happy to work for you again."
"Well, maybe, but he's a family man now. Ready to settle down. So maybe I should, too. And what nicer way to take early retirement than to live on a beautiful tropical island with, well."
"Female companionship?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's your decision." The Professor was aware that Gilligan and Mary Ann, however happy to be married they now were or would become, hadn't decided on it themselves. And there was no compelling reason for the Skipper to marry any of the native girls. No one's rescue depended on it. "I hope you won't regret it."
The Skipper chuckled. "Me, too."
"Listen, why don't you take a couple empty bottles, some sheets of paper, and a pen? Just in case."
"In case I need to be rescued?" The Skipper chuckled again.
"Or if you want to take your bride back to civilization when the rest of us are rescued."
The Skipper nodded. "I will. Of course, I don't even know which one of the girls I'm marrying, let alone if she'd like civilization. Or how I could communicate with her about it."
"Here." He handed the Skipper the small phrasebook he'd drawn up in the last hour. "This will get you started, and you should be able to pick up more of their language, and teach your wife some English, as time goes on."
"Gee, thanks, Professor, you think of everything! I don't know how we all would've survived without you all these years."
The Professor waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't do that much." Not as much as he'd once hoped to do. He'd never finished writing any of the books he did research for. He never got the transmitter to work well enough for them to be rescued. And he never figured out a way to fix the gaping hole in the Minnow.
"You did enough. You know, Gilligan was, is, my best friend, but you were the one I could most count on."
"Thank you." The Professor understood. There were many times when the two of them had planned things for the good of their tiny community. Ginger had scolded him in recent years for keeping too many secrets, and she had a point, like the time he thought the island was sinking. But it had been so easy to be a team with the Skipper, who, some superstitions aside, was the person on the island with the most common sense.
The Skipper hesitated and then hugged the Professor, who was caught off guard. He wasn't himself demonstrative, but he returned the hug after the surprise wore off a little. Neither man said that he would miss the other but it was true, in a different way than they each missed Gilligan.
The Skipper patted the Professor on the back and then let go. "Well, I guess I'd better pack up the 'stationery set' and get ready to head out." He tapped the empty bottles together.
The Professor nodded and got a sack for the paper, pen, and phrasebook. "I'll meet you down at the lagoon in a few minutes, Skip."
After the Skipper left, the Professor mused on how in a matter of a couple days the island's population had been cut almost in half. Well, to 57.14%. Now it would be just the Howells, himself, and Ginger.
If he had been a superstitious man, he might think that Fate was nudging him towards Ginger. And certainly he'd been tempted this week, with all the fuss over Gilligan and Mary Ann's wedding and related matters. But the main reason for his hesitation hadn't changed. He still feared that Ginger would view a dalliance with him as simply a time-passer till they were rescued. Yes, she'd been more attentive than usual ever since the canoe arrived, but maybe she felt that seducing him was unfinished business, something to cross off her list before she went back to Hollywood.
He supposed he needed to speak directly to her about this, but talking directly wasn't his strong suit, especially with women. And what if he were completely wrong? What if she had simply been flirting for flirting's sake all these years and there was nothing behind it? He couldn't stand the idea of being so needlessly foolish, and with her of all people. He imagined her laughing about him when she was at a Hollywood party, the egghead with the crush on the movie star.
He asked himself what he would've done if the native girls had preferred him to the Skipper, as Erika Tiffany Smith once had. He couldn't imagine marrying a stranger. And if he wanted "female companionship," well, there was possibly Ginger.
He shook his head. The important thing now was to wait for the rescue party. He would take up his teaching career again. Try to get back to the life he'd had eight years before. Maybe the notoriety of the shipwreck would be to his benefit, help him to find work, although he'd rather succeed on his own merits of course. Really, what he most wanted to do was to be left alone to pursue his research. How ironic that he would never again have the freedom he'd had on this island, despite the constant interruptions by the other castaways, particularly Gilligan.
He decided that he would start organizing his notes the next day, in preparation for their hopefully imminent departure. And if, for some reason, the rescue was delayed, well, that would be all the more time for research.
He didn't let himself think about how this would also mean more time to wonder what, if anything, to do about Ginger.