"The Isle..."

"The Isle..." Part XVII...

"The Isle..."

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental...

Part XVII...

The Skipper, looking over some items in box from the Minnow, seated by the ground bonfire pit, greeted Karen as she came down the rope section of the ladder from the boat deck. Her rather ragged old shirt now replaced by a spare of Gilligan's red.

"Good morning, Miss. Hey, there's a couple of eggs, some bread, and a hamburger for you for breakfast if you're hungry." He indicated the grub near the still low-burning fire. "Just toss a little wood on the fire, pan's right there. There's water in the canteen there or coconut milk in that jug."

"Starved, thanks..." Karen came over, taking up pan. "Steve and the others leave for the village?"

"Sure did. They wanted to get an early start. We'd've woken you but Steve thought you needed to sleep some."

"I did...Thanks. And thanks for letting me use that air mattress last night on deck. It was heavenly after all those months on the ground or straw." She cracked the eggs into the pan and added the burger patty, setting on a large flat stone by the fire, then hurled some wood in, watching the flames rise and setting the pan on the grill the Skipper had lain on some stones. "That smells divine." She sighed, sniffing. "Thanks for sharing your stuff, I know three more mouths are a burden."

"No problem. After all, there's food around and we at least have some stuff to catch it with. The refrigerated food wouldn't last that long in any case. Just lucky we'd loaded up supplies before the charter." Genial smile. "Sorry we didn't have another bed available but your friend's pretty much taking up what we got."

"Nah...Todd needs it more. And the mattress really was great." She sat, shifting the food in pan on the grill with a spatula from the box in which the pan and grub had sat.

"How's the boy doing? He seemed to be sleeping all right this morning."

"Yeah, I guess he's as well as we could expect." She paused.

The Skipper nodding...Kindly tone... "So, he was injured by a friend? One of the folks who took the remaining boat and fled without you?"

"Yeah..." Karen agreed, quickly. "The bastards just left us. But they probably didn't get far in that thing."

Well, true enough for the five assholes who lit out in said last working motorboat...Sorry, the rest of you... It's for your own safety.

"People get desperate in situations like these." Grumbie sighed, eyeing her nervous look.

Yep. Just as Gill and I figured after hearing their stories last night. These two are lying about something. Several somethings, likely.

"I guess..." Karen nodded. "But it's hard to forgive 'em, after all we'd been through together..."

"Люди такие, какие они есть." Grumbie, in Russian, with warm smile.

"What?" She eyed him.

"Sorry. An old proverb in Russian...'People are what they are'." He noted.

Ok, she's good or really doesn't know Russian, he smiled at her. "Careful with those eggs, that fire's hot."

"Yeah." She hurried to lift pan. "Just about right." She looked about.

"I saw that big bellowing guy on the deck...Crumpt...Did everyone else go?"