"Gilligan's Acres" Chapter 15
Title: "Gilligan's Acres"
Chapter 15
Author: Karen/kirsdarke
Pairings: Gilligan/Mary Ann, Ginger/Professor
Rating: PG
Summary: Shortly after their rescue, a friend of the castaway's leaves them an unexpected inheritance.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Gilligan's Island.
Note: I probably got something wrong in this chapter. Hope you enjoy anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
Talking Business
Everyone got off to a late start the next morning. By the time the former castaways (minus the Professor) were assembled around the kitchen table for breakfast, it was almost noon, and they had silently agreed to just call it brunch. They ate slowly and silently, every loud noise met with six winces and moans as they tried to fight off their collective headache.
The Professor walked in through the back door. "Good morning," he said cheerfully, gaining himself a few glares.
"Well, you're awfully chipper," Skipper said.
"Certainly. I've almost finished setting up the new irrigation system in the field."
"Thank you, Professor," Mary Ann said tiredly.
"My pleasure."
The front door slammed shut, and there were seven groans in response, one of which came from the living room. Jimmy walked into the kitchen, holding a hand to his head. "Morning, folks," he said tiredly.
He received a few half-hearted greetings in return as he sat down between Ginger and the Professor.
"Professor, Patti said that those parts for that thing should be in the mail with the afternoon train," he said.
"Wonderful," Professor said. "I should be able to get that system up and running by tomorrow."
"Oh, and Mary Ann, your friend William didn't know the house number, so he called Patti. He'll be on the afternoon train, too."
"William's coming?" she said excitedly.
"Yeah."
She gave a happy squeal, and jumped up from the table. "Oh, I better go get ready!" She ran out of the room and hurried upstairs.
"Are we going to the theater today?" Jimmy asked Ginger.
"Yes," she said. "As soon as Mary Ann is ready. If Mr. Carlisle is up, I want to ask if he'll help us. He probably knows more about re-upholstering chairs than we do."
"That isn't saying much." He looked around the table and smiled. "Did everyone have fun last night?"
"I suppose you could call it that," Mr. Howell said. "I haven't felt like this since the Oyster Bay Yacht Club's Fiftieth Anniversary Gala."
"What happened at the Oyster Bay Yacht Club's Fiftieth Anniversary Gala?" Gilligan asked.
"I haven't the foggiest."
"Must we talk about last night?" Ginger said wearily.
"I'm sorry, Ginger," Jimmy said. "If I'd been rejected and humiliated in front of the entire town, I wouldn't want to..." His voice trailed off when he saw the look Ginger was giving him. "...talk about it, either. Boy, that coffee smells good. I better get me some." He hurried away from Ginger and over to the stove.
"Skipper, what are we doing today?" Gilligan asked.
"We are fixing the hole that you put in the girls' bedroom roof," Skipper said.
"Oh, yeah," Gilligan said grumpily. "I forgot about that."
For a moment, Skipper thought that Gilligan was simply unhappy about having to work, or being reminded of his clumsiness. Then he realized: he didn't want to be around the house- much less the girls' room- while Mary Ann's boyfriend was around. And Skipper couldn't blame him in the least.
"Listen, Little Buddy," he said gently, or as gentle as the Skipper ever was. "I can probably fix the roof by myself. There are other things you should be doing."
"Like what?" Gilligan asked.
"Well, like..." He searched his mind, but came up with nothing. "Well, now that you mention it, I don't know. We've done pretty much all the repairs on the house and the barn. Mrs. Howell said she and Mr. Carlisle are just about done with the decorating." Mrs. Howell gave a tired nod in confirmation, without even opening her eyes.
"Why don't you come into town with us, Gilligan?" Ginger said. "We can always use an extra pair of hands at the theater."
"Even mine?" he said.
"Even yours," she said with a smile.
When the Professor and Mary Ann walked into the general store a short while later, they found Patti at the front counter.
"Good morning, Patti," The Professor said.
"Morning, y'all," she said wearily, her head resting on her hands.
"You sound like we feel," Mary Ann said with a smile.
"I think I feel like you feel, too," Patti said. "I guess Jimmy gave you my messages."
"Yes," Professor said. "We came in to meet the afternoon train."
"How long do you think it'll be?" Mary Ann asked.
Patti glanced at her watch. "About another hour," she said.
"I'm hoping to finish setting up our irrigation system today," Professor said. "But I think I may need some more screws."
"I haven't moved 'em," she said. "Help yourself. I'll just add it onto Howell's account." Once the Professor had walked away, she leaned over the counter and whispered to Mary Ann, "How's Ginger doing?"
"I think she's okay," Mary Ann said. "She's working today."
"That's good."
"Patti!" Jimmy's voice came from outside as they heard his footsteps running across the porch. He appeared in the doorway. "There's a car coming up the road."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Come on!"
They followed him onto the porch, where Ginger and Gilligan were watching a blue convertible drive up the road towards them. As the driver's face came into view, Jimmy and Patti's smiles faded.
"Is that-" Jimmy said.
"Yep," Patti said shortly, crossing her arms.
"A friend of yours?" Mary Ann asked.
"No," the twins said together.
The car pulled up and parked in front of the store, and the driver climbed out. He was in his mid-50s, wearing an expensive, tailored suit and a big smile.
"You have some nerve, setting foot in my town again," Patti said.
"It's good to see you again, too...Mayor," the man said.
"Jimmy, get my shotgun."
"Now, there's no need for that," the visitor said, holding up his hands. "I come in peace."
Patti stepped off the porch. "You came because you smelled money."
"I came at the request of my dear friend, Thurston Howell."
"You're a friend of Howell's," she said quietly. "That figures," she said with disappointment apparent in her voice.
"I don't believe we've been introduced," Professor said. He stepped forward and shook the visitor's hand. "Professor Roy Hinkley."
"Professor," the visitor said happily. "Good to put a face to the name. Henry Merryweather, Merryweather Properties. Now, where can I find our friend Thurston?"
"He's at the farm," Gilligan said.
"Thank you, my boy." He studied him for a brief moment. "You must be Gilligan."
"How did you know?"
"Lucky guess." He climbed back into his car. "Thank you for the warm welcome, as always, Mayor."
"Do you need a guide?" Professor asked.
"He can find it himself," Patti said. "He's been there before."
The group watched as Mr. Merryweather drove away, then they turned to Patti.
"Patti," the Professor said. "I couldn't help but observe a distinctly strong animosity between yourself and our new acquaintance."
Patti turned to her brother and nodded towards the Professor. "Nothing gets by this one. Come on," she said to the group. "I have something y'all need to see."
She took them to the back room of the city clerk's office, where there was an old wooden table and about a dozen filing cabinets. She took out a large roll of paper and opened it on the table, revealing a map of the town. She leaned on the table as she pointed and spoke:
"The train tracks run almost right through the middle of town. Everything west of them- the main part of town, our farm, all that land- belongs to either the town, or our family. Everything east has been bought up by Mr. Merryweather, except for Mr. Friedman's farm."
"What's he going to do with all that land?" Ginger asked.
"Build a freeway," Patti said. "Which will go over the eastern half of town, passing us by and bringing nothing but pollution and noise."
"It won't bring people?" Mary Ann asked.
"Not unless they put in an off-ramp," Jimmy said. "Which he's not going to do unless we sell the western half, which we're not willing to do. That's the offer we got last time he was here, anyway."
"And you believe Mr. Friedman kept the farm rather than selling it, in order to avoid this?" Professor asked.
"That's what I thought," Patti said. "But he left it to Howell, who's gonna sell it anyway."
"Oh, Mr. Howell won't do that," Gilligan said.
"Gilligan," Professor said patiently. "Mr. Howell, though prone to bouts of sentimentality, is first and foremost a businessman. His main motivation is profit."
"Well, we've got to try to convince him, anyway," Mary Ann said. "We'll talk to him tonight," she told Patti.
Ginger and Gilligan arrived home early that evening, done in by their impatience to hear Mr. Howell's decision. When they pulled up and didn't see Mr. Merryweather's car, Ginger wasn't sure what to think.
"I'm real sorry about that chair, Ginger," Gilligan said as they walked up onto the porch.
"It's okay, Gilligan," she said. "It's nothing that can't be fixed." Silently, she hoped William wouldn't be staying long. Working with Gilligan was an adventure best had in small doses.
They walked into the living room and met Mary Ann as she came in from the kitchen. She greeted them with a smile.
"Hey, you two," she said. "You're just in time for dinner."
"Great," Gilligan said happily.
"Skipper and the Professor are in the kitchen," Mary Ann said. "I was just heading upstairs to tell everyone else."
Ginger and Gilligan found Skipper and Professor sitting at the kitchen table, with eight places already set.
"Hey, Skipper," Gilligan said excitedly, sitting down next to him. "What did Mr. Howell say? Is he gonna sell the farm? What's he gonna do?"
"Calm down, Gilligan," Skipper said. "Howell hasn't said anything. He hasn't made a decision yet."
"He's spent most of the day upstairs," Professor said. "Discussing business with Mr. Merryweather."
"Ginger, is it as serious as the Professor and Mary Ann said?" Skipper asked.
"The twins certainly think so," Ginger said. "You should have seen Patti. She looked at him with murder in her eyes."
Mr. Howell walked into the kitchen, and Gilligan jumped out of his seat to meet him at the door.
"Mr. Howell," he said excitedly. "What are you going to do? Are you gonna sell the farm? Are you?"
"Gilligan, will you calm down," Mr. Howell said impatiently. "Don't you know it's impolite to discuss business at the dinner table?"
"What about the living room?"
"As I've been telling everybody, all day, I have not made a decision yet," he said. "I'll let you know."
"Mr. Howell, it's real important to the town," Gilligan said.
"Well, I understand," Mr. Howell said. "It's important to me, as well. That's why I need time to make the right decision, you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
The phone rang.
"Be a good boy and get the phone, will you?" Mr. Howell said.
"Yes, sir." Gilligan walked to the phone that hung on the wall by the refrigerator and picked it up. "Hello?"
"This is Bernie Grossman," a man said in a loud voice with a prominent New York accent. "Who is this?"
"This is Gilligan."
"Gilligan again, huh? Doesn't anybody else in that house know how to answer the phone?"
"I guess not," Gilligan said.
"Well, put Ginger on for me, will ya?" Bernie said.
"Yes, sir." Gilligan pulled the receiver away and said, "Hey, Ginger, it's your agent."
"Oh, good," she said happily. "I'll pick it up upstairs." She hurried out of the room and up the stairs, and answered the phone on the hall table. "Hi, Bernie."
"Ginger, babe," Bernie said cheerfully. There was a small click as Gilligan hung up the downstairs line. "How's life in the sticks?"
"I've had better weeks," she said.
"Well, I'm about to make it a better week," Bernie said. "Much better. Harold Hecuba's new picture starts filming next week."
"I know. That's the one Debbie's starring in."
"Correction, my dear: that's the one Debbie was starring in, before she became the toast of off-Broadway. Now it's the one starring the beautiful Ginger Grant."
"Me?" Ginger said.
"Do you know any other beautiful Ginger Grants? Because I don't. Now get that red head of yours back to the West Coast. We've got a lot of work to do."
"Oh, I don't know, Bernie," she said. "Things have been crazy around here. It's not really a good time."
"What, do you think you'll get back and the place won't be there?"
"Yes."
"I know it gets windy in Oklahoma, but come on, kid," Bernie said. "Look, it's a month of work, we save your career, and you get a nice paycheck that you can use to save all the little theaters in Waywind."
"Wayward," she said.
"That's what I said. Everyone wins."
Ginger fell silent for a moment. Bernie had a point. They both knew her career was in jeopardy, and she could put that money to good use, helping the theater. And if Mr. Howell decided to sell the farm, what use would she be here anyway?
"Kid?"
"Make the deal," she said. "I'll leave tomorrow."
<3
Chapter 15
Author: Karen/kirsdarke
Pairings: Gilligan/Mary Ann, Ginger/Professor
Rating: PG
Summary: Shortly after their rescue, a friend of the castaway's leaves them an unexpected inheritance.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Gilligan's Island.
Note: I probably got something wrong in this chapter. Hope you enjoy anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
Talking Business
Everyone got off to a late start the next morning. By the time the former castaways (minus the Professor) were assembled around the kitchen table for breakfast, it was almost noon, and they had silently agreed to just call it brunch. They ate slowly and silently, every loud noise met with six winces and moans as they tried to fight off their collective headache.
The Professor walked in through the back door. "Good morning," he said cheerfully, gaining himself a few glares.
"Well, you're awfully chipper," Skipper said.
"Certainly. I've almost finished setting up the new irrigation system in the field."
"Thank you, Professor," Mary Ann said tiredly.
"My pleasure."
The front door slammed shut, and there were seven groans in response, one of which came from the living room. Jimmy walked into the kitchen, holding a hand to his head. "Morning, folks," he said tiredly.
He received a few half-hearted greetings in return as he sat down between Ginger and the Professor.
"Professor, Patti said that those parts for that thing should be in the mail with the afternoon train," he said.
"Wonderful," Professor said. "I should be able to get that system up and running by tomorrow."
"Oh, and Mary Ann, your friend William didn't know the house number, so he called Patti. He'll be on the afternoon train, too."
"William's coming?" she said excitedly.
"Yeah."
She gave a happy squeal, and jumped up from the table. "Oh, I better go get ready!" She ran out of the room and hurried upstairs.
"Are we going to the theater today?" Jimmy asked Ginger.
"Yes," she said. "As soon as Mary Ann is ready. If Mr. Carlisle is up, I want to ask if he'll help us. He probably knows more about re-upholstering chairs than we do."
"That isn't saying much." He looked around the table and smiled. "Did everyone have fun last night?"
"I suppose you could call it that," Mr. Howell said. "I haven't felt like this since the Oyster Bay Yacht Club's Fiftieth Anniversary Gala."
"What happened at the Oyster Bay Yacht Club's Fiftieth Anniversary Gala?" Gilligan asked.
"I haven't the foggiest."
"Must we talk about last night?" Ginger said wearily.
"I'm sorry, Ginger," Jimmy said. "If I'd been rejected and humiliated in front of the entire town, I wouldn't want to..." His voice trailed off when he saw the look Ginger was giving him. "...talk about it, either. Boy, that coffee smells good. I better get me some." He hurried away from Ginger and over to the stove.
"Skipper, what are we doing today?" Gilligan asked.
"We are fixing the hole that you put in the girls' bedroom roof," Skipper said.
"Oh, yeah," Gilligan said grumpily. "I forgot about that."
For a moment, Skipper thought that Gilligan was simply unhappy about having to work, or being reminded of his clumsiness. Then he realized: he didn't want to be around the house- much less the girls' room- while Mary Ann's boyfriend was around. And Skipper couldn't blame him in the least.
"Listen, Little Buddy," he said gently, or as gentle as the Skipper ever was. "I can probably fix the roof by myself. There are other things you should be doing."
"Like what?" Gilligan asked.
"Well, like..." He searched his mind, but came up with nothing. "Well, now that you mention it, I don't know. We've done pretty much all the repairs on the house and the barn. Mrs. Howell said she and Mr. Carlisle are just about done with the decorating." Mrs. Howell gave a tired nod in confirmation, without even opening her eyes.
"Why don't you come into town with us, Gilligan?" Ginger said. "We can always use an extra pair of hands at the theater."
"Even mine?" he said.
"Even yours," she said with a smile.
When the Professor and Mary Ann walked into the general store a short while later, they found Patti at the front counter.
"Good morning, Patti," The Professor said.
"Morning, y'all," she said wearily, her head resting on her hands.
"You sound like we feel," Mary Ann said with a smile.
"I think I feel like you feel, too," Patti said. "I guess Jimmy gave you my messages."
"Yes," Professor said. "We came in to meet the afternoon train."
"How long do you think it'll be?" Mary Ann asked.
Patti glanced at her watch. "About another hour," she said.
"I'm hoping to finish setting up our irrigation system today," Professor said. "But I think I may need some more screws."
"I haven't moved 'em," she said. "Help yourself. I'll just add it onto Howell's account." Once the Professor had walked away, she leaned over the counter and whispered to Mary Ann, "How's Ginger doing?"
"I think she's okay," Mary Ann said. "She's working today."
"That's good."
"Patti!" Jimmy's voice came from outside as they heard his footsteps running across the porch. He appeared in the doorway. "There's a car coming up the road."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Come on!"
They followed him onto the porch, where Ginger and Gilligan were watching a blue convertible drive up the road towards them. As the driver's face came into view, Jimmy and Patti's smiles faded.
"Is that-" Jimmy said.
"Yep," Patti said shortly, crossing her arms.
"A friend of yours?" Mary Ann asked.
"No," the twins said together.
The car pulled up and parked in front of the store, and the driver climbed out. He was in his mid-50s, wearing an expensive, tailored suit and a big smile.
"You have some nerve, setting foot in my town again," Patti said.
"It's good to see you again, too...Mayor," the man said.
"Jimmy, get my shotgun."
"Now, there's no need for that," the visitor said, holding up his hands. "I come in peace."
Patti stepped off the porch. "You came because you smelled money."
"I came at the request of my dear friend, Thurston Howell."
"You're a friend of Howell's," she said quietly. "That figures," she said with disappointment apparent in her voice.
"I don't believe we've been introduced," Professor said. He stepped forward and shook the visitor's hand. "Professor Roy Hinkley."
"Professor," the visitor said happily. "Good to put a face to the name. Henry Merryweather, Merryweather Properties. Now, where can I find our friend Thurston?"
"He's at the farm," Gilligan said.
"Thank you, my boy." He studied him for a brief moment. "You must be Gilligan."
"How did you know?"
"Lucky guess." He climbed back into his car. "Thank you for the warm welcome, as always, Mayor."
"Do you need a guide?" Professor asked.
"He can find it himself," Patti said. "He's been there before."
The group watched as Mr. Merryweather drove away, then they turned to Patti.
"Patti," the Professor said. "I couldn't help but observe a distinctly strong animosity between yourself and our new acquaintance."
Patti turned to her brother and nodded towards the Professor. "Nothing gets by this one. Come on," she said to the group. "I have something y'all need to see."
She took them to the back room of the city clerk's office, where there was an old wooden table and about a dozen filing cabinets. She took out a large roll of paper and opened it on the table, revealing a map of the town. She leaned on the table as she pointed and spoke:
"The train tracks run almost right through the middle of town. Everything west of them- the main part of town, our farm, all that land- belongs to either the town, or our family. Everything east has been bought up by Mr. Merryweather, except for Mr. Friedman's farm."
"What's he going to do with all that land?" Ginger asked.
"Build a freeway," Patti said. "Which will go over the eastern half of town, passing us by and bringing nothing but pollution and noise."
"It won't bring people?" Mary Ann asked.
"Not unless they put in an off-ramp," Jimmy said. "Which he's not going to do unless we sell the western half, which we're not willing to do. That's the offer we got last time he was here, anyway."
"And you believe Mr. Friedman kept the farm rather than selling it, in order to avoid this?" Professor asked.
"That's what I thought," Patti said. "But he left it to Howell, who's gonna sell it anyway."
"Oh, Mr. Howell won't do that," Gilligan said.
"Gilligan," Professor said patiently. "Mr. Howell, though prone to bouts of sentimentality, is first and foremost a businessman. His main motivation is profit."
"Well, we've got to try to convince him, anyway," Mary Ann said. "We'll talk to him tonight," she told Patti.
Ginger and Gilligan arrived home early that evening, done in by their impatience to hear Mr. Howell's decision. When they pulled up and didn't see Mr. Merryweather's car, Ginger wasn't sure what to think.
"I'm real sorry about that chair, Ginger," Gilligan said as they walked up onto the porch.
"It's okay, Gilligan," she said. "It's nothing that can't be fixed." Silently, she hoped William wouldn't be staying long. Working with Gilligan was an adventure best had in small doses.
They walked into the living room and met Mary Ann as she came in from the kitchen. She greeted them with a smile.
"Hey, you two," she said. "You're just in time for dinner."
"Great," Gilligan said happily.
"Skipper and the Professor are in the kitchen," Mary Ann said. "I was just heading upstairs to tell everyone else."
Ginger and Gilligan found Skipper and Professor sitting at the kitchen table, with eight places already set.
"Hey, Skipper," Gilligan said excitedly, sitting down next to him. "What did Mr. Howell say? Is he gonna sell the farm? What's he gonna do?"
"Calm down, Gilligan," Skipper said. "Howell hasn't said anything. He hasn't made a decision yet."
"He's spent most of the day upstairs," Professor said. "Discussing business with Mr. Merryweather."
"Ginger, is it as serious as the Professor and Mary Ann said?" Skipper asked.
"The twins certainly think so," Ginger said. "You should have seen Patti. She looked at him with murder in her eyes."
Mr. Howell walked into the kitchen, and Gilligan jumped out of his seat to meet him at the door.
"Mr. Howell," he said excitedly. "What are you going to do? Are you gonna sell the farm? Are you?"
"Gilligan, will you calm down," Mr. Howell said impatiently. "Don't you know it's impolite to discuss business at the dinner table?"
"What about the living room?"
"As I've been telling everybody, all day, I have not made a decision yet," he said. "I'll let you know."
"Mr. Howell, it's real important to the town," Gilligan said.
"Well, I understand," Mr. Howell said. "It's important to me, as well. That's why I need time to make the right decision, you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
The phone rang.
"Be a good boy and get the phone, will you?" Mr. Howell said.
"Yes, sir." Gilligan walked to the phone that hung on the wall by the refrigerator and picked it up. "Hello?"
"This is Bernie Grossman," a man said in a loud voice with a prominent New York accent. "Who is this?"
"This is Gilligan."
"Gilligan again, huh? Doesn't anybody else in that house know how to answer the phone?"
"I guess not," Gilligan said.
"Well, put Ginger on for me, will ya?" Bernie said.
"Yes, sir." Gilligan pulled the receiver away and said, "Hey, Ginger, it's your agent."
"Oh, good," she said happily. "I'll pick it up upstairs." She hurried out of the room and up the stairs, and answered the phone on the hall table. "Hi, Bernie."
"Ginger, babe," Bernie said cheerfully. There was a small click as Gilligan hung up the downstairs line. "How's life in the sticks?"
"I've had better weeks," she said.
"Well, I'm about to make it a better week," Bernie said. "Much better. Harold Hecuba's new picture starts filming next week."
"I know. That's the one Debbie's starring in."
"Correction, my dear: that's the one Debbie was starring in, before she became the toast of off-Broadway. Now it's the one starring the beautiful Ginger Grant."
"Me?" Ginger said.
"Do you know any other beautiful Ginger Grants? Because I don't. Now get that red head of yours back to the West Coast. We've got a lot of work to do."
"Oh, I don't know, Bernie," she said. "Things have been crazy around here. It's not really a good time."
"What, do you think you'll get back and the place won't be there?"
"Yes."
"I know it gets windy in Oklahoma, but come on, kid," Bernie said. "Look, it's a month of work, we save your career, and you get a nice paycheck that you can use to save all the little theaters in Waywind."
"Wayward," she said.
"That's what I said. Everyone wins."
Ginger fell silent for a moment. Bernie had a point. They both knew her career was in jeopardy, and she could put that money to good use, helping the theater. And if Mr. Howell decided to sell the farm, what use would she be here anyway?
"Kid?"
"Make the deal," she said. "I'll leave tomorrow."
<3