Ralph took a deep breath and collapsed on the bed. His hair was till
too long, but at least is was clean and still wet from his shower. The
cotton t-shirt felt strange on his tanned back, and he thought he was
getting a little seasick. Even though, he'd rather be here – much, much
rather be here – than be back on the island.
He shut his eyes. Less than three hours ago, he was crawling through a smoking forest, fleeing for his life from a pack of bloodthirsty savages. How strange they would seem at dinnertime, showered and in decent clothes!
There was a knock at the door. Ralph decided to ignore it, choosing instead to try and sleep. The knocking came again.
"Ralph?" It was Jack's voice. Ralph shuddered and shut his eyes so tightly he began to tear. "Ralph?"
There was a moment of silence, followed by a series of footsteps leading away from the door. Ralph exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding. He listened for a sound, but there was nothing, save for the gentle rumbling of the ship's engine. Allowing himself to relax, he soon drifted into an uneasy sleep, full of fire and shadows and flies.
Jack stared at the door, not sure of what to do. He called again, but there was no answer.
"Silly little twerp," he thought to himself. He shook his head. No more talk like that.
Hearing no response, he turned and went back down the hall to his room, which he shared with Roger. Roger was sitting on the foot of the bed with his face in his hands. Jack sat down next to him, silent except for a tired sigh. They both knew what Roger was thinking.
"What's the worst they could do, Roger? We were carried away. It was nearly an accident—"
"—Not near enough, and it's all my fault!" He stood up and threw his hands down angrily. Jack reached up and swiped off a smudge of black war paint on Roger's neck that had somehow survived the shower. He looked around for something to wipe it on as Roger continued.
"You know what, Jack? I've been thinking. We never bothered to find out his real name."
Jack looked at Roger, a little pale. He gave up, made a black stain on his shirt, and pondered the statement.
"Oh, but there must have been a list for the airplane."
"We don't know that."
"Would anyone have known his name?"
"Piggy…." Roger gulped and forced the image out of his mind. "He would have told Ralph if he told anyone. But Ralph introduced him to us as…that…and I'm sure he would have used his real name if he knew it."
They shrugged at each other.
"Roger, seriously. Don't let this eat at you. We're going home in two weeks, and hopefully we'll have forgotten this."
Roger's face fell and he looked at the wall.
"We will never forget this, Jack. As long as we live, we will never forget the time we spent on the island."
Jack shuddered. How right he was.
He shut his eyes. Less than three hours ago, he was crawling through a smoking forest, fleeing for his life from a pack of bloodthirsty savages. How strange they would seem at dinnertime, showered and in decent clothes!
There was a knock at the door. Ralph decided to ignore it, choosing instead to try and sleep. The knocking came again.
"Ralph?" It was Jack's voice. Ralph shuddered and shut his eyes so tightly he began to tear. "Ralph?"
There was a moment of silence, followed by a series of footsteps leading away from the door. Ralph exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding. He listened for a sound, but there was nothing, save for the gentle rumbling of the ship's engine. Allowing himself to relax, he soon drifted into an uneasy sleep, full of fire and shadows and flies.
Jack stared at the door, not sure of what to do. He called again, but there was no answer.
"Silly little twerp," he thought to himself. He shook his head. No more talk like that.
Hearing no response, he turned and went back down the hall to his room, which he shared with Roger. Roger was sitting on the foot of the bed with his face in his hands. Jack sat down next to him, silent except for a tired sigh. They both knew what Roger was thinking.
"What's the worst they could do, Roger? We were carried away. It was nearly an accident—"
"—Not near enough, and it's all my fault!" He stood up and threw his hands down angrily. Jack reached up and swiped off a smudge of black war paint on Roger's neck that had somehow survived the shower. He looked around for something to wipe it on as Roger continued.
"You know what, Jack? I've been thinking. We never bothered to find out his real name."
Jack looked at Roger, a little pale. He gave up, made a black stain on his shirt, and pondered the statement.
"Oh, but there must have been a list for the airplane."
"We don't know that."
"Would anyone have known his name?"
"Piggy…." Roger gulped and forced the image out of his mind. "He would have told Ralph if he told anyone. But Ralph introduced him to us as…that…and I'm sure he would have used his real name if he knew it."
They shrugged at each other.
"Roger, seriously. Don't let this eat at you. We're going home in two weeks, and hopefully we'll have forgotten this."
Roger's face fell and he looked at the wall.
"We will never forget this, Jack. As long as we live, we will never forget the time we spent on the island."
Jack shuddered. How right he was.