Team Gilligan
Chapter 1 of Team Gilligan
"Gilligan!" The skipper called over the voices, music, and clink of tableware in his restaurant, called The Castaways. "Over here, Gilligan! Let the bus boys take care of that!" He hustled his little buddy toward one of the ship-netted alcoves, where they slid in across from a man it took Gilligan a moment to recognize. Tourists just didn't have the knack; you didn't wear a Hawaiian shirt with patterned pants.
"Professor van Helsing!" He offered a hand.
"Call me Derek, gents. We've been through too much together for the black tie stuff, what?" He took time for a hurried sip at a banana daiquiri. "I've had a visitation from Cambris." Both former castaways gaped. "She used the Glastonbury gate, being unable to reach the one in Pennsylvania." He displayed a mask resembling an Oktoberfest gent with pipe, hat, and mustache. "This talisman will get us through the portal to the Outworld where the Brides now reside. We can manage it after dark, when the nature park is closed."
"Hold on," the skipper said. "Who says we want any part of vampires? We certainly had our fill of them last time!" He cast an annoyed look at Gilligan, who had put the mask on.
Derek looked secretive in the glow of the table's red candle dish. "She wants to reward all the castaways. She envisions you as make-believe super heroes to help clean up the image of Rotbone Island."
The skipper grunted. "Sounds like a job for real super heroes."
"That's not all," Derek added. "She wants inside coffin latches like the one Gilligan made for Emmy. She wants their portraits painted, and an introduction to Lunari society."
"Lunari," the skipper explained for Gilligan, "is the island paradise just across the sea from Rotbone's Island." He waited. "Don't you have anything to say?"
Gilligan made tentative touches at the mask. "Was ist? Was gibt?" He clutched the skipper. "Wovon habe ich dieser Deutschen Sprachschatz bekommen?"
The skipper pried himself loose. "He said it's a talisman, not a toy, Field Marshal! Take it off!"
Having taken the mask off, Gilligan pinched a cheek. "That was intense. Does it happen to you, Derek?"
"I of course speak German, you know. So Skipper—what do you say to the proposal? Will the others go along?"
The skipper reset his cap after smoothing his hair. "I don't know. You're talking about an alternate world, just when we spent years marooned on an island, putting our lives on hold again."
"I'll ask 'em, Skipper." Gilligan bounded out in search of a phone.
The skipper leaned on an elbow to fix Derek a puzzled look. "This will cost a lot of money in airfare. If any come, they'll have to meet us in California."
Derek made a dismissive gesture. "Mr Howell gave me an expense account. He expects a return on the investment; gold, jewels, the like."
An assistant manager had been waiting for Derek to finish. "Excuse me, Skipper. We're running low on lobster."
"Gilligan." The skipper had tasked him with the purchase order. "Push the steaks and shrimp, Rodney." To Derek: "Well, that halfway makes up my mind. Gilligan seems to do better with life or death decisions. But super heroes?"
"Cambris gave me as much information as possible, Skipper. If we don't fancy things on arrival, we can turn right around and leave."
"They're expecting us?"
"At the Archonage, yes. That's sort of a teleport hub for the major civilized areas. We're to have free use of a villa during our time there."
"But Derek, during the day, we won't have the protection of the Brides."
"Yes." Derek took a bracing pull of the drink. "It's why we'll rely on the reputations they build for us. Plus a few magic items they've found. I myself am a bit of a swordsman."
The skipper grimaced. "I'd feel safer with a gun, even though I'd hate to use it."
Derek shook his head. "Cambris said no modern weapons."
Just then, Gilligan collided with the skipper.
"Oof! Gilligan, don't you ever get tired of that?"
"Good news, Skipper. Mary Ann will come and keep an eye on things while we're away. Nix the others." He watched both men. "We are going, aren't we?
"I don't know," the skipper said shrewdly. "So far I've heard a shopping list of things Cambris can get anybody to do. What's really bugging her, Derek?"
The vampire hunter seemed to wrestle with a decision. "Dracula's ring."
"His ring?" Gilligan blurted. "Didn't Cambris warn your granddad not to take souvenirs?"
"She did." Derek slowly rotated the glass, stared into its fruity depths. "It's Dracula's revenge, is what it is. No one knows this, but the ring caused my grandfather all manner of bad luck and equally bed dreams. When he disappeared, his son—my father—suspected he'd fled to the Outworld via the Glastonbury gate. Now I have proof, because Cambris has heard of the ring being used by a gang of thieves. If there's a chance of Dracula rising again, we must stop it."
"Yeah, but . . ." Gillilgan began. "Cambris still wants all that other stuff, right?"
Derek chuckled. "While stalking Dracula, she was impressed by the great opera houses. Oh, she doesn't sing or dance, but likes the idea of commanding an audience who love a good yarn. And she has accumulated plenty over a thousand years." He returned the skipper's shrewd look. "I believe you chaps are on the hook."
Gilligan leaned back. "I don't like the sound of going where thieves live, maybe a whole city of them. We'll probably lose everything we have!"
"Again," Derek said, "I must defer to what Cambris has told me. One of the thieves is different. Granted, she's a premier assassin and mistress of poison, but she has a rather peculiar requirement for anyone she kills: they must be deserving of it."
The skipper's brow creased. "Might she have the ring?" He didn't savor the idea of trying to get it back.
"My guess is, she at least knows where it is. And that, gents, is where we begin the search. Can I count on you? My grandfather's reputation is on the line. I must have closure, not to mention something to tell my radio listeners."
The skipper tapped uncertainly with his fingers. "You talk a good game, Derek, but what do we bring back from risking our lives? A pat on the head from Cambris?"
"Skipper, you don't know the tenth of it. Imagine yourself captain of a ship that goes both on water and on air."
After a surprised pause, Gilligan jumped in. "You mean like pirates?"
"No, no, and I'll admit it's a pipe dream. Only three are known. One is in service between floating cities; a second is crewed by ghosts; the third rests precariously on a ledge beneath the bottomless Cloud Sea. It's a vast area of mist that has claimed its share of expeditions."
"So basically forget it," the skipper said with a scowl. "Now we need to decide what to call ourselves. Some menacing name like the Three Daggers, I suppose."
Derek paused his drink. "Over there, everything is Team This, Team That, depending on who the leader is. The system was pioneered by the magic academy at Eolca. I propose Team Gilligan."
It resonated with the youngest member. "I like it, but why me?"
"You don't know how big your stature is among the Brides, Gilligan. They think you capable of anything."
"Oh, brother," the skipper opined. "I'll agree on condition we all have a say in it. Sure, Gilligan has a way with vampires, because they can't take him seriously."
Derek shook his head again. "You describe the Brides. There are others lurking there, too far away to be cowed by them."
Silence ruled for a moment before Gilligan put a hand on the table. "Here's to Team Gilligan." The others placed their hands on top of his.
