Come to think of it, I really can't remember why I did it. Mere curiosity I suppose. See where he's at, who he's with (though I doubted he was with anyone, a crazy savage like himself). I typed slowly, with one finger, like a littlun might type. I still call children that, by the way.
I stared at the screen: searching for: Jack Merridew. My heart pounded, and then stopped. There he was. I clicked on his profile. Stupid Facebook. He was single, as I expected. And he was friends with a couple of hunters from the island. But, so was I.
I friended him. I really did. I felt no regrets. I actually didn't feel anything. He accepted it, no problem.
But a few weeks later…
"Island Reunion?" I said aloud. I threw my mouse at the wall, leaving a small dent in the red paint.
Who was attending, anyway? Roger, no surprise there. Maurice, I wouldn't mind seeing him again. Sam was going, but Eric was undecided. Ironic. Jack was going, obviously. Robert had said no, but I wasn't in shock. He was the one who had cried endlessly, even on the ship, after all of us had sat down and mourned together (after a nice long bathing of course). Percival Wennings Madison was not going, I assumed the last thing he would want to do is see all of us again.
I sat at that computer for hours, contemplating what I should do. Suddenly, my chat bar popped up. Sam.
"U going?"
"maybe"
"please."
For some reason, that's all it took. I responded immediately, and I was now scheduled to meet at the Eastern London Community Center downtown tomorrow at lunch time.
"u know who made it, rite?"
"no"
I could almost see the younger Sam's shocked, sunburnt, dirty face, "the one and only Jack Merridew!"
I logged off.
My night shift was tedious; I was a night guard at the London Museum of Art. I slept until eleven, and then hurried downtown.
Waiting outside the conference room of the community center was a table with two small pieces of paper on it.
One read: You're late. Get your name tag and come inside. –JM
The other was a name tag that said: Ralph the True Chief.
I sighed, stuck the tag onto my leather jacket, and pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the room.
A group of chairs sat in a semicircle around a tall, skinny redhead who was gesturing wildly and prattling a choked apology to the room.
"Jack," I acknowledged him silently.
"Ralph!" Sam and Eric turned around and greeted me. Some things never change. Sam looked fine, thick brown hair, a small beard, bright red skin. Eric was a mess, pale, bald, and with a worried look masking his face.
"Chief," Maurice (I guessed it was the joking hunter) saluted me. He was wearing a naval uniform. Inspiring, I suppose.
"Can I continue?" Jack said softly.
I almost heard Piggy yell, "I got the conch!" I laughed quietly.
"What?" he demanded.
"You don't have the conch," I told him dully. I expected him to maybe pull out a spear and throw it at my ribcage again or tell me it didn't count here, but instead he laughed harshly.
"Still a stickler for the rules, eh Lombardi?"
I shrugged, "Still not following them just to bother me?"
He waved his hand in my direction, as if that pushed away my last comment, "I'm trying to apologize for that."
"What about when we were on the ship?"
A few days had gone by since we were rescued, still on the navy ship, heading towards home. We had avoided each other. All of us, with the exception of Samneric. Then we all met, purely by accident, in my cabin. An awkward silence met us.
"I regret it," a hunter said. "All of it, the dance, the rock."
We shuddered. "Me too," Jack said softly.
"Here," Maurice said, passing around a cup of water. "Drink to them. Piggy and Simon. Let 'em know we're sorry."
"That doesn't count!" Jack insisted. His face turned redder than his hair.
"Get on with it," someone cried. I expected everyone to leap up at once and argue, but we were past that I suppose.
"I know, I get it, that I did bad things on that island. I was a murderer, a tyrant, and a just all-around sucky person," Jack said. "And I wish I could go back and undo it. But I can't. And I wish I was able to put into words how sorry I am. But I can't. I wish I could tell Piggy and Simon I'm sorry." He shook his head, letting his long hair cover up his glistening eyes.
"We was in on that dance too," I repeated. Jack just kept on shaking his head.
"Hey, Merridew, it's not your fault entirely. Look at me!" Roger said. "I pushed that rock."
Jack went to the back of the room, where a small bathroom was hidden amongst the cluster of tables and chairs.
"Meat," Eric observed a different table opposite the bathroom.
In an instant, we were all crowded around the platter of chicken wings, ribs, steaks, and cheeseburgers.
"Just like old times," Maurice grinned in between bites of a few chicken wings. If anyone was going to take the past so lightly, it would be him.
And I, as I scarfed down multiple burgers, could not argue.
"All right, all right," Jack said, emerging from the bathroom with red eyes. "Sit back down. Who wants to take the platform, I mean stage."
We carried over little fancy plates covered with meat. Jack plucked a rib from my stack and sat down next to me, lounging casually.
"Exactly like old times," Maurice said. "Now, how about a confessional?"
"I'll start," Roger said, reluctantly setting down his plate. "Well, I still dream about it. I see the Head, and the Beast, and I see the conch, and Castle Rock."
"Well, I'm pretty sure we all do that, Sherlock," Sam mocked. "Now how about a real one?"
He sighed, "I found pictures of the island on Google Earth. They're on my phone." We all crowded around him, gnawing on the slim bones of the meat.
He zoomed in on the tiniest speck of land on the screen.
"Look at it! There's Castle Rock," he told us, pointing to a grayish blob on the side of the island.
"It's all scorched up," I observed.
"Yeah, remember the fire?" We silently thought of the fire that had eaten our island alive.
"Who's next?"
"I'll go, I guess," Maurice said. "So I'm at the beach with my wife and my son, right? So my son finds this huge conch shell, like exactly the same size as ours. He hands it to me, 'cause he noticed I'm about to cry. I still have it, you know."
"Sam? Eric?"
"We live together," they said simultaneously. "The island made us that way."
The room shared in awkward silence.
"I'll go," I said. "Remember the pig's head?"
The former hunters shifted uneasily. "Well, somebody must have found it, because it's on display where I work….I don't go near it. I'm scared to death of that thing."
They must have shared in my discomfort, because they nodded slowly.
"Piggy and Simon are my conscience," Jack told us bravely.
"Join the club," I muttered.
"You know what I don't understand?" Roger began. "Two people were killed there. And know we're all back together. Why aren't we beating the living shit out of each other? Why are we laughing? Why aren't we in a big group hug crying?"
"Are you saying you want to be in a big man group hug?" Jack snickered.
"I'm serious!"
It was like I was back on the island again, the weight of the world collapsing onto my shoulders once more. I staggered backwards into a chair and buried my head in my hands. My eyes were shut so tight it almost hurt.
"Lombardi?"
"Chief?"
"Ralph?"
From within me came a vision as I shuddered with silent tears. Piggy and Simon were standing behind me.
Simon, with his long black hair, tan skin, all his wisdom. All his battiness. He had a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated the giant invisible weight that rested on me.
Piggy had on his specs, not cracked, glinting in the sunlight. He was wheezing slightly and hunched over, his fat belly hanging low. He scowled at the problem, but I knew that he was really thinking slowly, sensibly, giving the problem time to settle in his mind and find itself a solution.
"It would go faster," he explained. "But I have ass-mar."
"Sucks to your ass-mar," I thought.
"You're gonna be just fine, Ralph," Simon soothed, sifting his hand under the weight and, with a great groan, lifting it up. Piggy clutched at it too, squinting under his glasses.
They tossed it into the air and it dissolved into great light.
"Stay careful," Simon told me.
"And stop your talking like that. What good is it going to do talking negative? My auntie used to say, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Piggy told me.
"Says the one who was killed by a rock," Simon said evilly, smiling broadly.
The two of them disappeared, and then I was back in the room.
"What the hell is he doing?" I heard Jack yell.
"It's fine, you guys," I said, standing up.
"Hey, uh, I gotta go. The boss hates me enough already. I can't tell him I'm late because of an island reunion," Roger said, rising as well.
"Thanks for reminding me," Maurice said. "Colonel Mars wanted me back at base at 0300 and I have an awful long way to go."
"I guess this is it then," Jack said, a hint of regret in his voice.
I shook my head, "It doesn't have to be."
"Group hug!" Maurice yelled, reaching out with his long arms and gathering everyone together.
When we finally separated, we all had tears in our eyes, and an indescribable feeling of repair in our hearts.