Epilogue: Island Reunion

Mary Ann accepted two suitcases from the first mate of Howell's yacht, the Moolah. She waved to the billionaire up on deck. "My dad says thanks for the combine! The old one was worn out!"

"Glad to assist, my dear. Has everyone arrived?"

"We're the last. I can't wait to see the old gang!"

Gilligan came trotting down to the lagoon, now favoring black over gray jeans. The Outworld seemed to have affected him. "I'll get those, Mary Ann." He endured a hug. "Wait'll you hear—Ginger's playing a vampire in a horror film!"

Hands on hips, Mary Ann made a wry face. "She certainly has first-hand experience." They trudged the well-worn path through sparse jungle, stepping around fallen banana and coconuts. "At least we don't have to gather anymore. Mr Howell's chef is catering everything. I'll bet you're as tired of seafood as I am."

"I dunno—I sort of have a taste for lobster, but I never cared for crab." The two chatted amiably, free of status restraints here at the bottom of the totem pole. When the clearing came in view, only Ginger was immediately on hand, arranging flowers on the old table. Even the huts were still standing, but they needed a lot of sweeping out before bedtime.

Mary Ann hurried to embrace Ginger, who now wore practical jeans, and a white blouse tied off above the navel. Her hair was pulled back, and she wore minimal makeup. "I like the nature girl look."

"Now that I'm back in Hollywood," Ginger said, "I don't have to cling to past glory. Somebody else can do my hair, wardrobe, manicure, et cetera."

The skipper swept a pile of debris out of his hut, and he was the only one still wearing his former attire of blue over white. "Mary Ann!" He hefted her with his unused arm and gave her a spin. "We've got plenty of catching up to do. Gilligan and I are gonna wow 'em with our Outworld adventure!"

"He's right," Ginger said, adjusting the scrunchy behind her head. "He told me some things I didn't know vampires can do. I called my producer, but he said we don't have the special effects budget for it."

"Too bad Emmy can't film a scene for you," Gilligan said. "But she wouldn't show on film."

The professor came out of his hut with a load of old fronds. "I thought I heard Mary Ann. Are the Howells coming along?"

"Any time now," she said. "His caterer is getting everything ready."

Presently the Howells came into view, having opted for black tie, followed by three men laden with the evening's banquet. Howell spread hands like the genial host. "This bounty was catered from the skipper's place, so if anyone dies, blame him! Hah harr!"

"Oh, Thurston," his wife chided.

Ginger leaned close to Mary Ann. "Wanna have some fun with Gilligan? I'm gonna drop a little bug in Mrs Howell's ear."

Mary Ann tittered. "You are so mischievous!"

The caterers set a magnificent table and lit scented torches to keep away flying pests, then receded tactfully to hailing distance. All took their accustomed seats, and the feast began.

The skipper sawed into his steak. "Shall we talk about old times, or our adventures in Sewer Town?"

"Sewer Town?" Mrs Howell grimaced. "Oh my."

"It's not what you think," Gilligan said. "They have this artificial sun and a shallow lake. They even have running water." Mrs Howell was looking at him with a curious hint of mirth. "And, uh, they have shops, boats . . . tell 'em, Skipper." He had to look away.

"About that," Mr Howell said. "What happened to that nice Englishman?"

"He stayed in Outworld," the skipper replied. "If you're a paranormal researcher, that's the place to be!"

Mrs Howell raised hands daintily. "With all those dreary vampires? I though that Cambris sounded awfully bossy. Gilligan, dear boy, do sit up straight."

"How about you, Professor?" Howell asked. "Did you get that endowment I sent to your university?"

"Oh yes." The professor spooned gravy on mashed potatoes. "We're working on an integrated combat system with the potential to kill millions."

"Dear me." Mrs Howell put fingers to throat.

That reminder of the vampire dream, in which Gilligan had siphoned her dry, caused him to nearly choke on asparagus tips.

Ginger slapped his back, seeming to find it amusing. "Easy, tiger."

To change the subject, Gilligan fished three coins out of his pocket. "Here you go, Mr Howell. These are from Lunari."

Howell juggled them expertly in his palm. "Eight hundred dollars. Gilligan, my boy, you've paid the bar tab! Ha harr!"

"I also have the mask," Gilligan added. "We got the ring back for Cambris, but she still has a wish list of things to do, like portraits."

Converse broke down into the usual blocks: the girls, the skipper and professor, the Howells. Gilligan was somewhat alone to enjoy apple pie and coffee.

He thought about engaging Howell about a return to Outworld, but Mrs Howell kept casting eyes at him. As the sun went down, the skipper had his immediate group enthralled with tales of Lunari and the Old Quarter, so he decided to call it a night.

He had just entered the hut when Mrs Howell came in behind him.

"Gilligan, I've made a startling discovery tonight. I now know why you've been so ill at ease around me these past two years. It seems you have a crush on me, dear boy! But it could never work out. I'm married, you know."

Huh? "Crush?" He had to sit down. "Mrs Howell, it's time to level with you." She sat next to him, fully tuned in. "Remember when the bat bit me, and I just knew I'd turn into a vampire? It caused me to dream I was Dracula. Ginger was my bride; the professor and skipper were goofy detectives, and Mary Ann was my old parlor maid with a wart on her nose. You and Mr Howell were guests at my hotel."

"Goodness. What happened?"

"I attacked you after knocking out Mr Howell. While the detectives were chasing Ginger, I had you down and put the bite on you 'til there was nothing left. I've felt guilty ever since."

"I see." After considering all this: "You know why you feel guilty? Because of the crush!"

Huh? "Crush?"

"Think about it. You've always seen Ginger as out of your league because she's an actress. Remember when I tried to set you up with Mary Ann? The thought of marriage terrified you! That left only me for your dream self to fixate on."

He was clutching at straws. "Maybe I saw you as a symbol of high society I could never reach."

She considered that. "Ridiculous! You've never shown resentment to us because we're rich." She patted his cheeks. "I shall always be flattered, dear boy."

A confused Gilligan waited a few minutes before following her out, uncertain what to do about this.

Ginger was watching over her coffee cup. "Mary Ann, did you kiss Gilligan?"

"Me? I thought you did." The two collapsed in laughter.

"What's the joke" the skipper asked, wandering over.

"Go get the professor," Ginger said, "and I'll clue you in."

Nearby, Mr Howell relaxed on his recliner. "I see Gilligan had some success with one of the girls."

"Oh?" his wife said.

"That lipstick on his face. Hah harr!"

Mrs Howell peeked at her mirror to see if any had smudged.

Back at the table, Ginger had corralled Gilligan and shown him a mirror.

"Oh, right," he said. "Mrs Howell thinks I have a crush on her."

"And we'll let her think that," Mary Ann said with a glance at Ginger. "What woman her age doesn't want to be attractive to younger men?"

"Okay!" Ginger blurted. "So I set it up. But isn't that better than having her think you resent her for being rich?" Both girls watched to see how he'd react.

"Seeing how it has to be one or the other," he said, "I know what to do." When the Howells started back toward their yacht, Gilligan motioned for his wife to hang back. "Mrs Howell, if I ever turn into a vampire, you'd better hide, because I'm coming straight for you."

She giggled. "Silly boy!"