Chapter IX- Aftermath
Roger, wracked with well-concealed guilt over Piggy and Simon, had killed himself in the house in the woods two weeks ago. This much was understood. His parents were told what they needed to know; standing nearby as they arrived to see Colonel Anderson, Ralph wondered if he should say anything. But the truth would have been more painful for them to take then the story Colonel Anderson had been told. Ultimately, Ralph let them go without saying anything. It was better that they think this had happened than know what the truth was. Sometimes the truth really wasn't such a good thing.
Jack had limped up to the infirmary with Ralph only just in time; as it was, he nearly died in the ICU anyway. Somewhere in the attic, the house, or the long walk back to school he'd acquired an infection, one so bad it almost killed him. One day, unable to keep his mind on his classes and off Jack's struggle for life at the Rockbridge County Hospital, Ralph asked to be driven there, a request Colonel Anderson personally granted. He still didn't know everything of what his boys had been up to, and part of him was beginning to accept that he probably never would. But Ralph looked calmer now, in spite of all that had happened. The other boys who'd been on the island were feeling something similar. Perhaps it was coincidence that the accounts of Simon and Piggy's deaths were finally matching up, and that their remains, the police investigation ended, had finally been laid to rest. But John Anderson had never believed too much in coincidences.
As he watched Ralph get in the BHMA van and ride off to the county hospital, Anderson smiled a little, reminding himself to put in for Ralph Meyer's name on the list of candidates for the Silver Sabre at the end of this year. He didn't know what that boy's role had been in all of this; not truly. But that didn't mean he couldn't take a leap of faith and award him for it. Colonel John Anderson was coming to admire even the Merridew boy greatly; if he just got himself straightened out after this, he'd be all right. They had tremendous potential, the both of them. Anderson hoped they'd both take the oath of service themselves one day; the armed forces would never have enough men like them.
At the hospital, Ralph made his way to Room 12 in the ICU in silence. Jack's condition had stabilized enough that the doctors were letting a few select friends from the school in along with immediate family, but no one else was in the room at the time Ralph arrived. He sat down and looked at Jack for a while; while the heartbeat monitor beeped with assuring regularity, Jack's normally-pale face was a bit more so than usual. Sitting in the silent room, Ralph stared at Jack, still not comprehending why- or how- either one of them was still alive. Again, into the room's quiet, he asked, "Why? Why'd you do that?" Ralph wanted to add, Why'd you nearly get yourself killed for your worst enemy? But he couldn't seem to find the words. Finally, after sitting for some time but never once looking at the clock, he got up and left.
Jack, sleepy and only half-convinced Ralph had actually been there, replied a moment too late for Ralph to hear him.
"Ask me later."
