Fic "Shirts"

[Rap541]

Not gonna lie, this doesn't entirely embrace the true slaphappy nature of GI. I have prolly watched too much Survivor. Let me know if I should take it further.


“Shirts”

Roy Hinckley bit back a curse when he felt the jungle branch dig sharply into his side and tear the fabric of his shirt as he tripped and fell. Not only did it hurt like the dickens, he realized as he took a look at the damage, but it had managed to break his skin along with tearing a healthy sized hole in his best shirt. When you only owned two, that made for a problem. Worse, the deep scrape wasn’t serious but the blood was quickly soaking into the shirt which meant that his late arrival at camp would be more of a spectacle than usual.

He sighed. He was so tired of the island. At first, it hadn’t been so bad. He had intended to write a book on tropical foliage so having the time to really look around and make observations had seemed heaven sent. But then it just seemed to grind on and on. The other castaways, in their own unique ways, were good people. Intellectually, he knew it would have been much worse to have been alone… but he sometimes wondered if any of them really cared. Certainly no one had ever questioned his declining supply of shirts. Skipper and Gilligan were probably tired of blue and red after three years, but they each had a nice supply. Howell had plenty and the women seemed to expand their wardrobes on a daily basis. It stung even worse to think of how much time he had spent designing and building contraptions for everyone to help them. Yet, no one even used his name. Professor this, Professor that, “The professor says”, “let’s ask the professor”… It was amusing at first but it also isolated him. Of course, that was partly his fault. He was aloof and serious, and he accepted that he was probably standoffish seeming. He didn’t want or need constant attention… but he did want some.

At the same time, wandering back into camp, late and bloody and in a foul mood, was bad for morale. He held his hand to his side and ignored the sharp pain and sticky feeling. Best to not make much of what was a minor injury. He trudged off, hoping to make it back to camp before the sunset.
***

It worried Mary Ann. If anyone on the island was going to be on time, it was the Professor. He was always careful to tell everyone if he planned to be away longer than just the day. There wasn’t anything dangerous on the island but it was possible to get lost. Even after three years, she still got turned around and confused when in the jungle more often than not. The professor rarely got lost though. He did lose track of time but it was still odd.

“ Ginger, did the Professor say anything to you about where he was going?” Mary Ann asked.

Ginger looked up from her nails. “ I thought he said something about looking for some plants to make something…. You know how he is. He pays more attention to his experiments than anything else.” Ginger sniffed and returned to looking at her nails.

Mary Ann bit back a curt remark. Ginger was hardly one to talk about being a little self involved. Plus, Mary Ann was certain that more than a little of Ginger’s annoyance was over how little headway the woman had made in her efforts to seduce one of the two eligible bachelors of the island. It was difficult to even engage the Professor in a normal conversation, let alone get into topics like the ones Ginger wanted. Mary Ann found it frustrating as well, if only because she was inevitably not considered any competition. Not that she wanted to be, oh no, but she wasn’t entirely bereft of knowledge of men. Ginger was pushy, and underneath his stern exterior, Mary Ann suspected that the Professor was more than a little bit shy and intimidated by women. Being subtle and patient was probably the better angle to take, but Mary Ann also didn’t think Ginger was more than casually interested. Ginger was like a cat, and she had more fun playing with her prey than with actually catching it.

Which Mary Ann had never understood. A nice girl should look for a man to be a good husband. If you knew that he wasn’t right, you threw him back and found another. You didn’t keep playing him on the line. It wasn’t right. There was a word for that sort of girl, Mary Ann knew, and while she would never say it to Ginger, she sometimes thought it.

“ Aren’t you concerned at all?” she asked after a moment.

“ Well, it is a little late,” Ginger said after a moment of thought. “ And he didn’t say anything about staying away the whole night. Maybe we should let the Skipper know.”

“ Know what?” Both women jumped in surprise at the sound of the Professor’s voice. Mary Ann almost laughed at first, because it was so disconcerting to see the professor looking so dirty. He had obviously taken a tumble somewhere in the jungle and hadn’t made much effort to get cleaned up. Still, she managed to bite her tongue. The professor looked tired, and hot, and his teeth were clenched. All were signs that the generally even tempered man was close to losing his temper. That was rare and never pretty, and the two women were careful to not smile. Living on an island with few other people meant a little restraint was required at times, and the professor was usually the most restrained of them all. He deserved a little bit back.

“ We were going to tell the Skipper that you were late,” Ginger said breathily. “ We were beginning to worry.”

“ What happened?” Mary Ann asked quickly. Something was wrong, that seemed clear. “ Did you fall?” As soon as she said it, she blushed. It was obvious that he had fallen.

Still, it seemed to break the tension. The Professor relaxed his stiff pose but still clutched his side. “ I did fall. I fell into some bushes and I managed to cut myself a little. Is the Skipper around? I know he knows some first aid from his time in the Navy.”

“ That’s not a little cut, “ Ginger said suddenly, her sexy persona suddenly gone. “ Professor, you’re bleeding!”

Mary Ann realized with a start that Ginger was right. Not only was the left side of the Professor’s shirt ripped and torn, but there was a large red stain on his side. Worse, there was fresh blood seeping between the fingers he had clapped tightly to his side. “ Professor, that’s not just a little cut!”

“ It’s nothing serious,” he said after a moment. “ but if you would find the Skipper, I would appreciate it.”
***

“ Professor, I know you didn’t want to scare the women but you might want to be a little more careful.” Skipper was hesitant about saying it but he felt it needed to be said. It wasn’t just a minor cut, there was a deep gash in the professor’s side. It was the sort of injury that could be shrugged off if necessary in say, a war, but in normal circumstances on the island, it was the kind of injury that led to some well deserved cosseting. The professor wasn’t one to accept such behavior from the others. At the same time, Skipper had the feeling that something was bothering the younger man that went a little deeper than a nasty cut.

Still, it was hard to say anything. If there was anyone on the island who really puzzled Skipper, it was the Professor. Gilligan was a force of nature, one of those people that just did and said and acted the way they felt, and it was just something that had to be dealt with. The Professor existed at the other end of the scale, where everything he did and said was the result of a preplanned thought. Skipper understood Gilligan as well as anyone. You just had to keep an eye on him. With the professor, it was much different. It was never easy to even guess what the man was thinking, and Skipper really didn’t want to. The fact was that he didn’t envy the Professor one bit. There was no shame in being a person with average brains. He certainly had done well enough for himself. The Professor thought too much, that was a fact.

“ I will be more careful,” the Professor said softly. He carefully unbuttoned his shirt and set it aside. “ Do you think it needs to be stitched?”

“ Not if you take it easy for a few days, “ Skipper warned. He had always taken a great deal of pride in the fact that a man as bright as the Professor listened to his advice and took him seriously. The last thing he wanted was for the resident genius to be injured or get sick. His job would be ten times harder without the Professor. And that meant he had to be just a little more understanding than if it was Gilligan who had gone off and done something foolish. He laid out the bandages he planned to use and gestured for the Professor to take a seat in his chair. “ Professor, you need to be more careful. I’d hate to think of how things would be here without you. This could have been a lot more serious than it is.”

There was a long silence. “ You know, we’re all going to die here,” the Professor said softly and gently. “ I know there’s some sort of unspoken rule about talking about rescue in a negative way, but it’s been three years. No one is looking for us, and we never will be found.”

Skipper’s eyes widened in surprise. “ Professor, you don’t mean that.” Rescue was a topic that never seemed to get old on the island, but he had never heard the professor express such a negative thought. In fact it was usually the professor who kept the hope alive with his ideas and calm words.

“ I have a name, you know. So do you, Jonas.” The professor winced as he took his hand away from the gash in his left side. “ Just for a moment, just for right now, I can’t put a good face on the current situation. Tomorrow, everything will be the way it always is, but tonight… Do you know, before this, I had a life. I had a car, a job I loved, a closet full of shirts. It’s Friday night. At the university, even the worst workaholics, and I wasn’t the worst, would close up their labs and we would all go down to the coffee shop and just talk and listen to music and discuss our work.” The professor paused and looked down. “ I know that sounds dull, but I miss it. There are times where I think I would kill for a cup of coffee.”

“ It’s not dull if you enjoy it,” Skipper said, although the idea of being in a group of people all like the professor did sound dull beyond belief, but then, he was sure that the professor would be equally as bored in a discussion of boats and nautical issues. “ I know what you mean. This is the sort of night where everyone in the marina would head down to the bar and have a few beers.” And discuss women and maybe get into a fight, but that was likely to offend the professor’s sensibilities. Which would not help the situation. The very last thing the others needed to hear was that the professor thought that rescue would never come. That was a surefire way to kill morale. It was usually the girls or the Howells who needed bucking up. He’d never seen the professor so down and that had to be nipped in the bud. “You’re just having a bad day, Pro… Roy. Look, Gilligan is coming with the water. I’ll get this cleaned and bandaged and one of the girls will fix your shirt, “ though Skipper didn’t think there was a lot of fix left to it, “ and things will look a lot better in the morning.”

Gilligan opened the door, a bucket of water in his hand. “ Skipper, I brought the water!” and then stumbled, tossing the entire bucket onto the Skipper.

“ Gilligan!” Skipper roared. The ensuing frenzy of hatslapping seemed to dispel the Professor’s dark mood, and Skipper was pleased. Gilligan was more important than people thought, and if that meant Skipper had to deal with the occasional wet shirt, then so be it. Still, the situation would bare watching.

[MovieScript Writer]

Ooh, a dark theme. i like it.

[jonnycarnahan]

Originally Posted by MovieScript Writer

Ooh, a dark theme. i like it.

Way cool! I love this... I've been praying for someone other than myself to take on a darker theme in "Gilligan's Island" fanfic! And Roy is my favorite, of course... as is the friendship between Roy and Jonas.

Might there be some Roy/Mary Ann interaction later on? Either way, this story is a gem so far... wonderful characterization and attention to detail! Your talent with dialogue is something I can only strive for.

Please continue ... I'm not too proud to beg...
Sheri

[Rap541]

Thank you Glad you folks like it. like I said, I usually don't do fanfic for purely funny shows and my last stint with this sort of show was with Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (and I'm 33 so thats just sad) so i am glad its not too far off the target.

I was always a Professor fan as a kid because he seemed to be in such a crappy position. There's no one "on his level" and no one ever seemed to listen to him or even try to be friendly. Yet he went around doing nice things for all the castaways. It just seemed likely that at some point he would have fallen into a dark depression. It also seemed like Skipper would have been the only person he could turn to - and thats not ideal.

Not really intending any romance though I think mary ann comes off a little partial for older men in this It's mostly the prof being sad and lonely and everyone trying to make him feel better.

[Rap541]

Here's some more. feel free to comment - like I said, its been a while.

"Shirts 2"

The problem with island life, Thurston Howell the Third often thought, was the distinct lack of interesting happenings. There were no polo matches or golf tourneys and the few cotillons thrown had been organized by Lovey. His fellow castaways were all fine people in their common way, but they weren’t very interesting at times.

Fancy that the most interesting event of the previous day was the Professor tripping and hurting himself. Why, what sort of society page article would that make? As if the Professor would even deign to be interviewed. Sometimes Thurston didn’t know what to make of his companions. Not a one of them would ever qualify to be in the club at home. Still, if one had to rub shoulders with common people, he supposed that they could have been much worse. He stepped out of the hut he shared with his wife and looked about. “ Mary Ann, do be a dear and tell me that you’ve prepared a steak and egg breakfast worthy of a Howell.”

“ Oh Mr. Howell, you know there’s no steak on this island,” Mary Ann said with a smile. She set a large bowl of fruit onto the bamboo picnic table. “ We’re having fruit and maybe some fish, if Gilligan finds any in the traps.”

“ A rich man can dream,” he chuckled as he took a seat at the table. It was a typical morning on the island. He preferred to rise early and enjoy a nice glass of juice. Skipper and Gilligan were also early risers but they were usually the last to the table in the mornings. Next to the table was normally the professor, who had the good grace to be quiet about whatever bug or plant that was fascinating him. Then Lovey and Ginger would put in an appearance, though both had a tendency to skip breakfast. Finally Skipper and Gilligan would come up from the lagoon with whatever they had managed to grub from the mudflats. Breakfast was a pleasant time on the island, one where he could pretend at least for a few hours that he was at one of the more rustic resorts.

And there was something to be said for the predictability of his companions. The Professor left his hut and walked over to the table, taking a seat a trifle more slowly than usual. He also looked a bit more rundown than Thurston ever recalled seeing him. “ Professor, you look a mite under the weather.”

“ I didn’t sleep well,” the professor said gruffly.

“ How could you?” Mary Ann asked as she set down a glass of juice for the man. “ The Skipper said that your whole side was cut up and it was just luck that you didn’t need stitches. You aren’t going out into the jungle today, are you?”

Howell recognized that tone. The interesting thing would be how the Professor took that tone. As a married man, he understood the wisdom behind the saying “discretion is better part of valor”. The Professor on the other hand, just wasn’t very good with women. He tended to treat ultimatums from the women as if there was anything that could be debated. Howell knew better. Mary Ann was not asking a question at all.

“ No… I was going to catalog my plant specimens today,” the professor said after a moment. Howell found himself nodding with approval. The professor looked down right ill, if the truth was to be told. The poor chap must not be well, he thought, if he’s not protesting that he feels fine. The professor wasn’t good with women, that was a fact, but somewhere along the line Thurston suspected that he had done a little reading on the topic, the parts about not showing weakness in particular. Poor fellow must have lost the book before he got to the good chapters.

“ That’s just as well, “ Mary Ann said cheerily. “ Ginger and I were going to try and fix your shirt today. We might need you to do a fitting.” She set down plates of neatly chopped fruit in front of the two men.

“ I will endeavor to be available,” the professor promised. Howell watched as the other man pushed his food around his plate.

“ You know, Professor, these forks work much better when you put a little bit of food on the end,” Howell said after a moment. “ Of course, it’s terribly gauche to not use properly monogrammed tableware, but we must all make sacrifices.”

It worked but only a little. The professor smiled slightly. “ I’m not very hungry this morning, to be honest.” He stood up and stepped away from the table. “ I think I might just go back to bed.”

Howell waited until the professor was out of earshot. “ I say, Mary Ann, I don’t think the professor looks well at all. Poor fellow looks about done in and its still morning.”

Mary Ann frowned, a terrible thing to see on such a pretty face, Thurstan thought. “ I don’t think he is well, Mr. Howell. The Skipper told me to make sure to keep him around the clearing today. I think that’s a good idea. You’ll help me, won’t you, Mr. Howell?”

“ Why of course, my dear girl.” Such a sweet little girl, he thought as she went back to her work. It was a shame that the only eligible men didn’t seem to notice her.
***

The problem, Roy thought to himself as he reentered the supply hut where he slept, was that he was wrong. He had told the Skipper that when the morning came, everything would be back to normal, but it wasn’t. He wasn’t able to shake off the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that the small bamboo adorned hut he was looking at was going to be the only room he slept in for the rest of his life.

Worse, he felt like hell. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. The deep cut had hurt and itched, and he had ached all over. When the sun had risen, he had realized with some surprise that he had managed to bruise himself all over. So he had managed to really hurt himself on top of everything else. Oh, nothing was broken, but moving hurt and had set his stomach rolling as soon as he had sat down to the table. The last thing he wanted to do was worry everyone even more, and vomiting was sure to do that.

“ You’re just feeling sorry for yourself,” he said to himself. He carefully undressed, folding his clothes neatly and placing them on top of his suit case. Because of the tendency that everyone had to wander into his sleeping area, looking for help or supplies, he didn’t usually sleep in just his boxers, but he also didn’t normally try to sleep through the heat of the day. He sat down on the edge of his cot and carefully touched the bandages. It probably did need stitches, he thought, but he wasn’t ready to ask Skipper to give it a try. The older man had the will but not the skill and with the minimal tools they had on hand, trying to stitch the cut up was likely to make it worse. Besides, there wasn’t much fresh blood at all. The dark bruising seemed to radiate from his side and all up and down his left side.

He lied down on the cot and closed his eyes. It would get better. He hadn’t spent three of his life on a deserted island to be felled by a casual trip. The more he said it to himself, the more he had to believe it.

That was what all the psychology books said, after all.

***

“ But he looks so cute sleeping there,” Ginger said with a giggle. She and Mary Ann were peering into the professor’s hut. “ Besides, you know that if either of us go in there and wake him up, he’s going to be so embarrassed. You know how he is.” As shy as a school boy and wasn’t that a shame? Ginger often thought so. All of the men were nice enough fellows but Howell was too married, Skipper was too old, Gilligan was too young, and the Professor? He was too… proper. The poor man just didn’t know how to let go of himself, which was a pity considering what a nice looking man he really was. At first, when they had been shipwrecked on the island, Ginger had been more than a little surprised that a successful good looking fellow like the professor wasn’t married. Then the less charming aspects of his personality became clear. Nice but stiff. And shy. And it was harder to train a man when they were older.

Still, she wasn’t often intentionally mean, and funny as walking into the professor’s hut and waking him while he was in a state of serious undress was, it was also mean. Especially if he wasn’t feeling well, and word around the campsite was that he wasn’t feeling well.

“ Well, we can’t let him sleep through dinner. He hasn’t eaten all day.” Mary Ann managed to make that sound like a crisis worthy of a fainting spell, the way she always did.

She really didn’t want to startle the professor, that was the problem. At the same time Mary Ann could get on her nerves and she certainly wasn’t going to go into the professor’s hut if he wasn’t fully clothed. Oh no, not the sweet child Mary Ann. Ginger sniffed. Sometimes it got really old.

“I’m not going in there,” Ginger said emphatically. “ Ohh, I know, isn’t Gilligan back? Let’s have him wake the professor.” A nice save, she thought. The professor was always patient with Gilligan.

[MovieScript Writer]

I'm still liking this.

[Rap541]

Thanks again. Here's another section. If the prof seems a little whacked, well... maybe he is. Or maybe he's the sane one.


***

It wasn’t that he minded doing things for the girls, it was that they tended to stick him with chores that weren’t always… as easy as they looked. He didn’t mind a trick if it was in good fun, but more often than not, when Ginger and Mary Ann asked him to do something, it was because there was a terrible downside. Like asking him to wash dishes for them, but especially on the days when there were lots of icky dishes. So when the two of them asked him to go wake up the Professor, he couldn’t help but think that they were up to something.

He just didn’t want to do anything that made the current situation worse. The Skipper had said that everything was fine, and Gilligan normally accepted that, but he could tell when the Skipper was worried about something, and he had a feeling it had something to do with the Professor hurting himself. Which was odd really, because the Skipper had also insisted that the Professor was fine that morning but had also made it very clear to Gilligan to leave the man alone. Any questions, you want anything, the Skipper had warned him, you come to me today. Leave the professor alone.

He did understand what the Skipper meant. He had a… a tendency to break things. Especially the professor’s things, which were so interesting and so likely to end up on the floor whenever Gilligan had the chance to look at them. Still, even if he wasn’t feeling well, it wasn’t like the professor to really get upset over broken things. He was usually pretty understanding about things like that, unless it had to do with rescue and lately even that hadn’t gotten much of a rise out of the professor.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was disobeying the Skipper by stepping into the supply hut. That feeling was usually followed by getting pummeled with the Skipper’s hat. “ Professor?” he asked as he opened the door, “ The girls wanted me to wake you for dinner…Professor?”

The professor was lying on his cot, asleep. The girls could be so weird sometimes, Gilligan thought as he stepped over to the bed. Waking up the professor was easy. He reached down and carefully shook the man. “ Professor? It’s dinner time.”

The professor’s eyes blinked open and in an instant his hand had reached and snaked around Gilligan’s collar, yanking the slight man down to within an inch of his face. “ Gilligan!,” the professor whispered harshly, “ You want to be rescued, don’t you?”

“Um….” The problem was that Gilligan didn’t really care, one way or another. The island was pretty ok, with him. He liked bananas, and coconuts, and mangos. Back in Hawaii, he was really just a deck hand on the Skipper’s boat, and the butt of everyone’s jokes at the marina. Oh, sure, the Skipper called him the first mate and had defended him on many occasions, but it wasn’t nice. Or fun. On the island, he was important. Sure, he made mistakes and messed up, but no one ever got really angry. Everyone seemed to like him and he was the person that everyone went to with problems and chores. He would miss that if they were rescued. On the other hand, the professor probably wanted to go home and it would be mean if he said he didn’t want to be rescued. “ Yes, of course I want to be rescued.”

Clenching his shirt, the professor pulled himself upright, until he was eye to eye with Gilligan. “ The important thing is that you believe it will happen.” The professor said it softly, but intently, in that way he had when he was really serious about something. “ If you believe we’ll be rescued, then we will. Do you believe me?”

Gilligan wanted to back away. It wasn’t often that anything on the island scared him, but the professor was really creeping him out. The problem was that the professor had a surprisingly strong grip. “ Sure I believe you, Professor. Could you maybe let up a little? It’s just that you’re really twisting my shirt….”

“Do you know how lucky you are, Gilligan?” The professor asked, pulling Gilligan even closer. “ I envy your bliss.”

A new, larger hand clasped over the professor’s. Gilligan felt an almost instant wave of relief. The Skipper carefully pried the Professor’s fingers off of Gilligan’s shirt, taking great care to keep a strong grip on the Professor, who as near as Gilligan could see, hadn’t noticed the intrusion.

“ Gilligan, why don’t you go tell the girls that I will be a little late for dinner. In fact, just have them warm up a couple plates for the professor and I.” Skipper said it easily but in such a way that Gilligan knew better than to disagree.

The professor blinked and turned his gaze to the Skipper. “ He believes we’ll be rescued, Jonas. Sometimes it’s like looking into a funhouse mirror.”

“ Yes, I can see why you’d think that,” The Skipper said after a long moment, “ and it might even be true, but…” and he used his free hand to lightly touch the professor’s forehead, “ I think you’re sick and that’s making you say things you don’t really mean to say, Roy.”

Gilligan didn’t really understand that. Funhouse mirrors were fun, after all. But it was too bad if the professor was sick. “ Skipper…”

“ Gilligan, didn’t I tell you to leave?” Skipper raised his voice. It’s time to beat feet, Gilligan decided. Stupid girls with their stupid favors.

[jonnycarnahan]

The suspense is killing me! I love the tension and the humor... something that isn't easy to do when writing fic such as this. The Professor's actions and comments are not out of character, especially if he's injured, royally pissed off, and burning up with a fever.

Fevered dreams and delirium are wonderful like that! LOL.

Again, I am very impressed with your talent and I can't wait for the next installment! Don't wait too long to update because I have to go to the hospital tomorrow for noon for surgery and I'll be having Rap541 "Shirts" withdrawal!

Hugs!

Sheri

[jonnycarnahan]

Originally Posted by jonnycarnahan

The suspense is killing me! I love the tension and the humor... something that isn't easy to do when writing fic such as this. The Professor's actions and comments are not out of character, especially if he's injured, royally pissed off, and burning up with a fever.

Fevered dreams and delirium are wonderful like that! LOL.

Again, I am very impressed with your talent and I can't wait for the next installment! Don't wait too long to update because I have to go to the hospital tomorrow for noon for surgery and I'll be having Rap541 "Shirts" withdrawal!

Hugs!

Sheri

Ooops! Forgot something! Rap... you should post this story at fanfiction.net!

Hugs again...

Sheri

[MovieScript Writer]

I agree with Jonny, this is great!

[Rap541]

Thanks for the feedback guys. Here's another part. I hope you can read this before you go, Jonny.


***

The real problem, Skipper decided, was that there was only so much he could do to contain the problem without making it obvious to everyone that there was a problem. He could tell the girls, and the Howells, and Gilligan that the Professor was ill and that would work for a few days, but not forever. He hoped that the professor wasn’t really very sick, just getting harder hit by his injury than expected. But if that was the case it meant that as soon as the exhaustion, or fever, or whatever it was, wore off, it would be impossible to keep the professor isolated from the others.

The problem was morale, and the professor was in a great position to totally ruin it on the island. It was hard to maintain morale on the island to begin with. Everyone was lonely and angry and if everyone gave in to those feelings, the island would be torn apart. God knows, he had days where he wanted nothing more than to admit defeat. There were even times when he was completely convinced that the island itself was cursed and that it just waited for innocents like themselves to wash ashore so that they could be taunted and bedeviled until they died.

He could think that all he wanted, but he would never share those feelings with his fellow castaways. The only one who could even handle hearing something like that was the professor, and Skipper was uncomfortably aware of his own earlier concerns regarding the man. On it’s face failure, the only harm that the professor’s despondence did was to himself, particularly if he did continue to bottle his concerns and feelings the way he had been doing. Skipper didn’t believe in a lot of the touchy feely nonsense that had been coming from the radio and before that from some of the less clean undergraduates he occasionally hired for the summer season. A man was supposed to be strong and determined in the face of adversity, but everyone had their breaking point. The girls periodically had raging catfights with each other, and the Howells had their days where it was clear that there was a full blown war going on in their hut. Certainly he blew off a lot of steam at Gilligan . Gilligan and the Professor were probably the only ones who didn’t have their moments.

The notion tickled around his brain that perhaps that was part of the problem. Gilligan, for all of his flaws, was basically a happy person. Skipper counted on that on a daily basis. It was as predictable as Gilligan dropping a plate. But the opposite of happy was unhappy, and until the last day or so, he wouldn’t have pegged the professor as being unhappy. But then, when you looked through a funhouse mirror, you didn’t see your opposite, you saw a weird distortion of yourself. He had thought at first that the professor’s comment about looking through a funhouse mirror and seeing Gilligan was obvious, but now he wasn’t so sure what the professor meant. If he meant anything at all.

It seemed straightforward. Of course Gilligan believed that there would be a rescue. He was a good kid, but just not very smart. The professor was very smart, and therefore thought that there would be no rescue. But… something wasn’t quite right about it and he couldn’t figure out why. He was positive that the professor had meant something else. Something important.

He pushed around the remains of his dinner. Mary Ann had made a delicious fish stew and brought the both of them a bowl, but the professor has scarcely touched his. He had also barely spoken, and had gone back to sleep after downing a glass of fruit juice. Which was also worrisome. It was clear that the professor was running a fever and that just added to Skipper’s concern.

“ Skipper, the women are retiring for the evening.” Howell said. He opened the flimsy bamboo door and stepped into the supply hut. “Your boon companion Gilligan is already asleep, no doubt chasing his little tail in his dreams. And I thought I’d come join our impromptu gentleman’s club. Of course it is a tad shabby but if you don’t report us to the home office of the Harvard Club, I won’t either.” Howell grinned. He opened his coat to reveal a flask. “ I thought you could use a convivial evening, Skipper.”

“ Mr. Howell, the professor is sleeping,” Skipper cautioned. Inwardly he sighed. Trust his luck that the one night that Howell found a generous bone was the same night that the professor was sick. Worse, Howell had one volume setting for his voice, booming. “ It may not be the best night for…this.” Although a drink would go down very well.

Howell ignored his protests and pulled up a crate to sit on. He took two of the coconut cups and began pouring what appeared to be rum into them. “ I’m sure the professor won’t mind. His allergy, you know. Besides, he drank that glass of mango juice?” Howell smiled when Skipper nodded. “ Then don’t worry. He’s having his share of the fun. I put a tranquilizer in that drink.”

“Why?” Skipper asked after a long moment.

Howell handed him a cup of rum. “ Skipper, I have a feeling that our island think tank may have sprung a leak. The question is how to we get the aquarium up and running again.”

“ Where did this rum come from?” Skipper asked. It was a touch too harsh for what he thought Howell’s tastes ran to in liquor. On the other hand, it had been three years. Even the Howell luggage stash wasn’t likely to still have aged alcohol. He also wanted to avoid the statement Howell had made. It was surprisingly apt.

“ The professor and I have a little arrangement,” Howell said easily. “ He made the still, I gather the fruits and we split the bounty.” He sniffed. “ I believe he uses his share in his experiments. Regardless, my dear captain, it’s clear that the professor is more than just a little tired. Any thoughts on how to rectify the situation?”

“ Well… no.” Skipper admitted. “ I thought maybe we could do something nice but…”

Howell nodded. “ The Professor is notoriously difficult to shop for.” The older man stood and looked around. “ Which is surprisingly considering that he’s hardly overwhelmed by his possessions in here. Why * does * the Professor live in the supply hut?”

It was a good question. And Skipper didn’t know.

[MovieScript Writer]

very, very good!

[Rap541]

Thanks. Does it feel in character? I was worried that thurstan was going to come off a little smarter than he was on the show.

At the same time, I can't help but think that there just had to be a still somewhere.

[MovieScript Writer]

Originally Posted by Rap541

Thanks. Does it feel in character? I was worried that thurstan was going to come off a little smarter than he was on the show.

At the same time, I can't help but think that there just had to be a still somewhere.

They're all in character from what I can see, and I love how you're portraaying the Skipper. I always knew he was smarter than he seemed. Same goes for Mr. Howell.

Good job with this!

[jonnycarnahan]

Originally Posted by Rap541

Thanks. Does it feel in character? I was worried that thurstan was going to come off a little smarter than he was on the show.

At the same time, I can't help but think that there just had to be a still somewhere.

Bravo! Just when I thought the story couldn't get any better, you proved me wrong! Mr. Howell, just like in the series, has the best lines and being observant about everyone goes along with his character very well.

I love how the Skipper reacts to Roy scaring Gilligan. I think of all the people on the island, besides the Howell's that is, that Roy and Jonas have the closest friendship. Whereas Jonas' relationship with Gilligan is more father/son. But the Skipper and the Professor have a mutal admiration for each other that often times comes across in the series.

Please continue this fic... it's awesome! You rock! Take a bow and I can't wait to see what awaits me when I get back from the hospital!

Big hugs!

Sheri