This is an epilogue to William Golding's Lord of the Flies I did for English class. I hope all of you enjoy!
Ralph could do nothing but stare at the person in front of him. It had been so long. Nevertheless, nothing had been forgotten, not one thing. He could not help but tilt his head slightly to the side, as if to say, why are you even here?Ralph quickly bit his lip, fearing that if he opened his mouth he would scream. His companion at the table was as stone-faced.
Jack Merridew.
He had not changed much. Jack Merridew still possessed the red hair and freckles that had been bored into Ralph's memory. What had changed, however, was the look in Jack's eyes. They were now hollow and lacked any sign of life. Ralph was not sympathetic, however. In Ralph's opinion, Jack deserved everything he got.
It was unwelcome feelings for Ralph, who preferred to bury his thoughts about the island. He had heard stories about the former littluns ending up in mental hospitals. Something that was even more jarring was the rumor that Roger moved to America and became a serial killer. Of course, Ralph believed it. Roger had shown homicidal tendencies even as a child on the island, when he killed…
No. He wouldn't dwell on the past. Only the present.
Roger's exploits crossed his mind again. Ralph would always shake his head when he learned of these incidents, as these people really should consider forgetting everything about their troubles. Then maybe they wouldn't get into these messes. There was a reason that Ralph had moved on to a prestigious university in London. By burying himself in his schoolwork and choosing to forget about his troubles, Ralph had managed to be quite successful. Sure, there had been some nightmares in the early days. Those had faded after a year or two.
However, the apprehension that gnawed at Ralph at the very mention of Jack Merridew never ebbed. It was cruel and unusual that both of them would end up in the same café. He resented the fact that Jack had waved him over, acting nice. Why could nobody just leave him alone?
Ralph looked down at his tea, which was growing cold. Blech. I hate cold tea, Ralph thought.Aimlessly, he stirred the tea with his spoon, and sighed.
Sensing the tension, Jack coughed a little bit too loudly. This situation was turning out worse than what he had expected. Every time he had planned to talk to Ralph about their time on the island, Ralph only ran away. It was infuriating to Jack. He had tried for years. Did Ralph not want closure?
Reacting to the cough, Ralph snapped up his head. His eyes met Jack's, and after a second, Ralph looked away. Jack lost his patience.
"Ralph!" he yelled, "Pay attention, damn you!" Jack's eyes were now blazing, and his hands clenched into fists out of frustration. He mentally dared Ralph not to concentrate now.
"What? What do you want, Jack?" Ralph retorted, slamming his hand onto the table. Realizing what he had done, Ralph around the cafe to make sure nobody had noticed the outburst. Luckily, for Ralph, not many had.
Ralph felt his face heat up. This reaction was unexpected; he did not think that he had this anger inside him. Did Jack not see that Ralph simply had no interest in talking?
"Ralph, we need to talk about this. We did some horrible things; well, I did some horrible things. Wouldn't you rather get this over with than run away like you always do?" Jack just wouldn't stop chatting. Ralph could do nothing but gawk at Jack's outrageous banter.
Talk about our problems? Was he insane, like all of the littluns? Or, perhaps, insane comparable to Roger, who killed people and called back home to tell the victims' horrified family how exactly Roger had killed their loved one? Perhaps Jack was insane like Maurice, who grew up to become an alcoholic clown. Oddly, Maurice's career seemed fitting.
That was it. Ralph couldn't take this anymore. He got up to walk out of the café, grabbing his coat and hat in one swipe of his right arm. Yet something stopped him. Perhaps it is best that you stay and hear him out, a voice in his head said. For the second time in two minutes, he sighed.
"Fine," Ralph said after some hesitation, "let's talk." After this, he sat back down. His coat and hat returned to their spot on the coat hanger near the boys' table. Going against his instincts, Ralph looked Jack directly in the eyes. Ralph's face had a cold expression, eyebrows knitted together in anger, and eyes unforgiving.
With a triumphant look on his features, Jack took a quick sip of tea. He uttered a thank you to Ralph and folded his right hand over his left. Ralph really had no idea about anything, but Jack did see the purpose of the "hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil" strategy. Jack was glad that he had chosen to become a psychologist. His fair-haired companion would be fun to analyze.
Like a true shrink, Jack decided to start the conversation with a gentle "how are you?" When Ralph cautiously responded, Jack realized that it was best to start formally and wait until Ralph was comfortable until he brought up the heavy stuff.
To Ralph, this seemed innocent enough. After a few minutes, he had started to become at ease with Jack's incessant questions. Everything poured out: he was studying to become a Literature teacher, hadn't been arrested, and was in a stable relationship with a nursing student named Alice.
Yet, suddenly, the questions took a different course.
"Have you been in contact with any of the boys lately?" Jack asked, his left eyebrow raised. This was a definite tactic to have Ralph eventually break down and discuss the island. Ralph's obvious discomfort at the question he had asked made Jack grin. All part of the plan.
Ralph looked around the room with a painful look on his face. Then he stared directly into Jack's face. What was he getting at? Ralph wondered. Finally the fair-haired boy said that he hadn't talked to any of the islanders since they all got rescued. That was the way he preferred it, anyway. Why confront your demons when you can push them away?
"That's a right shame. Samneric have been doing quite well," Jack said purely to get a response.
And a response was what he got.
"Oh? What have they been up to?" Ralph said with interest. He couldn't help but be intrigued by this news concerning Samneric. Sometimes, when Ralph had a few drinks under his belt, he would wonder out loud just what happened to Samneric.
But that was drunk talk. This conversation was being carried out sober. Truly, what was the harm of talking about Samneric?
Jack grinned again, revealing slightly yellow crooked teeth. "The boys moved to Switzerland to go to a university in Geneva." This was a lie, created to generate curiosity. In actuality, the twins were still in England, with Sam working as a baker and Eric studying to become a lawyer.
"Geneva, eh? That's ambitious." Ralph almost said wizard. This discussion was becoming more interesting by the minute. He took a sip of his tea, which had become cold. That didn't matter.
"Oh, yes," Jack replied. His plan was working beautifully. Soon, he would bring up the island and end all of the guilt. That had been his aim for years. Ralph's unwillingness to talk always foiled his plans. Jack just wanted redemption. But recently, that wasn't the only ambition. Seeing Ralph squirm with discomfort was almost fun.
Before Ralph could stop himself, he had asked about Robert, Bill and all of the other biguns.
Again, Jack lied. In Jack's mind, if Ralph had heard of only normalcy occurring in the lives of other islanders, he would open up more. Then Jack would have his chance to perhaps apologize. But that currently wasn't high on his list of priorities. He enjoyed playing little mind games with Ralph; he couldn't believe Ralph was naïve enough to believe them.
Twenty minutes passed. Jack had Ralph in the palm of his hand; both boys traded stories of their success and of experiences on the island. Like he had done with every passing sentence, Jack lied. He lied about his studies—in order to share a similarity with Ralph, Jack said he was an aspiring History teacher— and about his mental state.
Some could argue that Jack was disturbed, but Jack begged to differ. He had never felt more okay. His father, who had ignored him every day, got what he deserved. To Jack, there was nothing like putting one's Daddy behind bars for an earlier crime committed in youth. None of the fibs were outrageous, rather more like things that could happen. It was all too easy.
Now was the moment to tread more dangerous waters: Simon and Piggy. Jack guessed that Ralph, deep down, was still very sensitive about the two boys that had lost their lives on the island. He would have to be extremely careful as to not prompt an overly emotional response from Ralph. Again, he was glad he had chosen the psychology route.
Jack sighed, and prepared to assert his "truthful views" on the deaths of Piggy and Simon. He opened, of course, with a falsehood: "After all of these years, mulling and mulling, I've realized that Simon and Piggy's deaths came about wrongly."
The fair-haired boy stiffened at the sound of Simon and Piggy's names. Ralph hadn't referred to those two by name in years. Memories came pouring back; recollections of Piggy's glasses, Simon's quiet nature all began to crowd Ralph's head until Ralph's right hand flew to his temple. He groaned, showing Jack that he obviously wasn't ready to discuss Simon and Piggy,
For his own amusement, Jack ignored the signs. He continued babbling on about how he had told Roger the night they killed Simon that the two should really stop. The redhead made each lie so convincing, that he himself started to believe them.
Finally, Ralph had enough: "Let's talk about something else. Anything, Jack. Please." By this time, Ralph's head was nestled in his hands, reliving painful memories of the past. He never knew that he still had them. Looking at Jack's face, Ralph noticed that the redhead's face was glowing; his features were gloating about his victory over the blonde, saying: you never should have hid those feelings.
Ralph's body suddenly felt heavy with guilt and denial. All of those years he had been fine, but twenty-five minutes reliving the island with jack had made him question himself. Ralph was no longer a confident university student with an amazing life, but rather returned to the form of a confused twelve-year-old boy with tattered uniform shorts.
He couldn't take this insecurity. Feeding the desire to run away from his problems yet again, Ralph whipped around, grabbed his coat and hat, and prepared to leave. This time he would leave for good.
Sensing his opportunity slipping away Jack said quickly, "I'm sorry, Ralph. I'm sorry for everything."
To this, Ralph only looked back over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes, and hissed, "Don't lie to me, Merridew." With these hostile words hanging in the air, Ralph left the café and never saw or heard from Jack Merridew again.