A/N: After a small wait, here is chapter number seven! I'd really like to thank my wonderful reviewers -- you are all so fantastic! (You know who you are!) Here is a strangely long chapter with more plot development (well, would you imagine that?) and see if you can find some symbolism here. I tried to be like Mr. Golding and write well! Enjoy!
-mo
...
"Have you seen him?" Ralph asked with a certain strain in his voice.
"Who?"
"Johnny, of course."
"Why would I care?" Jack demanded. "I don't talk to the littluns anymore! Has he gone missing or something?"
Ralph nodded earnestly. "Henry hasn't seen him since two days ago."
The chief bit his lower lip and took a moment to think. What felt like a few months had passed since Eric's death. So far, everything had been going smoothly in the weeks after that day; members of the tribe had forced the killing into the very backs of their minds, hoping to forget about it. Until this moment, all the boys had been functioning properly together, as if nothing had happened. "I don't know what to say," Jack grumbled at last, finding this news rather disturbing.
With the passing of time also came the passing of seasons and the rebirth of life. As the skies grew cloudier every day, and rain poured down more often, green shoots of life were springing up from the black, deathly ashes that the last great fire had left behind. The creepers and vines, once scorched from the flames, were winding up the trunks of the palm trees once again, their night-blooming flowers fragrant and colorful in the evenings. The population of pigs on the island was apparently starting to rise again, and this came as a great relief to the boys, who were tired of eating fruit almost every night.
"You should," Ralph muttered, his arms crossed over his tanned chest. "You know, you being the chief and all."
Jack frowned, and a blush of embarrassment splashed across his face. "Well, they disappear all the time!"
"Yeah, but not like this!" Ralph shot back. He and Jack were seated on the pebbly bank of a small stream, far away from any of the other boys. When they were alone, Ralph found himself talking freely and forcefully to his so-called owner; he dominated their conversations with his louder, more convincing voice and, if both boys were given a spear and told to kill the other, Ralph probably would have been the victor. But those days of hate were long past he and Jack, and it wasn't uncommon for one to be asking the other for some sort of advice.
"Give him a day," Jack said, absently grinding a dead leaf between his fingers. "Give him a day and he'll probably show up."
Ralph was doubtful, but said nothing. The other boy's mind was someplace else, far away from his body, wandering somewhere in the deep fathoms of thought. "What are you thinking, Jack?"
The red-haired boy turned to his companion, another frown creasing his forehead. "What do you mean?"
Ralph shrugged, pushing a long strand of blonde hair from his eyes. In the months that had passed, his locks had grown, considerably, and ignoring that it was a feminine thing to do, he finally tied his hair behind his head in a ponytail. "I mean... you look pretty distant this afternoon, Jack."
The chief smirked. "You think so?"
Nodding, Ralph stood and waded into the stream, letting the cool water rush above his ankles to his shins. "I know a lot has changed between us in the past few months, but you aren't the same Jack I knew when you were the chief and you were hunting me down and all."
"You want me to be mean again?" he laughed.
The fair-haired boy shook his head, and dug his toes into the pebbly riverbed. "No, it's not that, it's just that you still have control of everyone and all, but it's just... different." Ralph turned to Jack. "You understand what I'm saying?"
"No."
"Maybe it's a good thing," he mused, gazing into the green canopy above. For a moment, there was a respectful silence that brimmed with a sense of understanding for both boys, and no words needed to be spoken. Ralph cupped some of the clear, fresh water in his hands and brought it to his grimy face, his want for a comb and soap and new clothes slowly disappearing.
Without saying anything, Jack stood, stretched his wiry arms above his head, and waded into the cold, burbling water of the stream. He sloshed around in it a little, letting the soothing liquid carry away dried blood and dirt, the results of tumbles in the jungle and run-ins with the creepers. At last he broke the silence. "Well, I mean... You're right, Ralph."
"Hm?"
Jack gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his face twisting with thought. "You're right, I guess I have changed. I've been thinking."
Ralph chuckled. "Well, that's a new one, isn't it?"
"Shut up," the chief said, allowing a grin to slip by. "I've just been thinking about what's happened on this island. With everyone. With us. How much things have changed since we first got here."
The older boy crossed his arms. "Things do change with time, I guess. How long has it been? A quarter of a year, half a year, maybe?"
Jack nodded. "Probably. What would that make you? Thirteen?"
Ralph shot the chief a critical glance. "I guess so. Why's it matter?"
A shrug. "I don't know. I... Nevermind."
"You're batty," Ralph said, cocking one eyebrow. "But I like you for that." He stepped out of the stream and onto the rocky bank, hardly wishing he had a towel or shoes or anything of the civilized sort. Those days are over. Shooting Jack a small grin, Ralph added, "I'm gonna go find Sam and look for Johnny."
"Alright," Jack said, but by then, Ralph had disappeared, leaving the chief more confused than ever.
...
"I thought I could find you here!"
Seated on a dead palm trunk on top of the platform, Sam twisted around to see a figure running toward him from the jungle. It was Ralph, his wet, blonde hair plastered to his forehead, and a grin spread across his face. "Hullo!"
"So, what have you been up to today?" the older boy asked as soon as he reached the platform. He was heaving, clearly out of breath, but Sam could see that he was happy, if not a touch bit worried, but in good spirits, nonetheless.
"Not much," the lone twin said, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I've kind of been exploring around the beach, you know, maybe looking for a bottle or something to put a note in, but then I realized I don't have any paper or pen in the first place."
"You really want to get off of this island, don't you?" Ralph asked as he took a seat next to the younger boy.
Sam nodded, his eyes wandering to the deep blue of the ocean. Clouds were beginning to foul up the sky, masking the cerulean blue with a dense, opaque gray. "It's not that I miss my family," he said, watching a lone seagull float on the sea breeze. "I'm just fed up with this island. I would like to watch my TV set again, or read a book, or have a listen to the radio..."
"I know what you mean." Ralph scratched an insect bite on his shoulder, then asked, "Can you came with me to look for Johnny?"
"Has he gone missing?"
Ralph shrugged. "Henry said he hasn't seen him for a few days, so I'm assuming that he's missing."
"I'll help, then." Both boys stood and walked off the Platform, memories of how the group used to meet in civility and in an organized fashion long forgotten.
...
Jack was still standing in the cool current of the stream, letting the burbling water lick at his legs. The polished pebbles beneath his feet were cool and smooth, and for a moment, he forgot about England and his home there. He was transported far away, to a world of peace and quiet, deep introspection and thoughtfulness, a good place. Realizing that he'd been holding his breath for no reason, the boy let out a sigh and walked upstream, against the weak current. The branches of woody trees and the fronds of the palms created a tunnel above Jack, and brightly-colored birds squawked with surprise as he waded by.
Ralph was hard to figure out, the chief decided with a frown. Probably the same way he feels about me, he thought. The water was growing deeper, rising to Jack's thighs, and he realized that he had yet to explore this part of the island. He ventured deeper, ignoring the snagging limbs of trees and the dangerous creepers that hung from their branches. God, I wonder if we'll ever get out of here.
The current was becoming swifter, and the rocks under his feet larger and more jagged. The water was up to the boy's waist, and the shrubbery was closing in around him, and yet he still continued to walk. Nearby there was splattering sound; a gentle roar of sorts, coming from the jungle. Unafraid, Jack proceeded up the stream, the current grasping at his skin, the stones biting at his feet.
Before he saw the waterfall, Jack knew exactly what it was. He heard the water hitting the rocks, splashing, much like the way a shower sounded. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he squinted through the dense branches and saw a spout of pure, white water pouring from a high granite shelf, falling several meters before hitting the slabs of pink granite below. The boy let out a delighted whoop and dashed through the water as fast as he could, and soon found himself in a world of enchantment.
Nestled among patches of vibrant, green mosses were clumps of ferns, positioned right on the bare rock. Birds nested in the palms, unconcerned by Jack's presence. Gaudy butterflies and metallic dragonflies flitted about, sometimes chasing one another, other times, minding their own businesses. Jack walked up to the spout of water and held a hand under it, loving the feel of cold, pure water against his skin. With an adventurous grin, he moved under the waterfall, shivering with delight as it soaked his hair and his face and his shoulders.
"I have got to tell Ralph about this."
...
"So you haven't seen Henry?!"
"Nuh-uh." Percival trembled under this sudden question, as if his very life depended on the answer he provided. "Not nowhere."
Ralph heaved a sigh and glanced to Sam. "Well, that's just great. Now we've got two littluns missing."
"Is it possible they just wandered off to play or something?" the twin wondered.
"It could happen, but..." Ralph thought for a moment, biting on a fingernail with worry. "No, not for two days, and it's been a while since they say Henry's been gone, and he can't do much to help himself..."
"Percival," Sam said, his voice becoming softer for the young boy, "when was the last time you saw Henry?"
The small boy shrugged his bony, tanned shoulders. "Not since this morning, maybe."
"Is it possible he went out to look for Johnny?" the twin asked.
"I suppose."
"What a great lot of help," Sam grumbled as he turned to Ralph. "What do you think?"
The older boy frowned, his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm worried. It's becoming a trend."
"Beastie," Percival whimpered before toddling over to the placid, white sands of the beach.
"There's no beastie," Ralph grumbled to Sam, and in the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered a time when he had to repeat the phrase several times over to the group of boys, months ago when he used to be the chief. "There's no beastie, there's no snake, there's no creature to be afraid of." But life was full of ironies and Ralph knew it. He knew that somewhere on the island, there was a creature of some sort and in time, they would discover who or what it actually was. "Alright, Sam, I guess we've just gotta go and look for them."
"Where should we go?" the younger boy wondered as he and Ralph sauntered away from the dazzling beach.
"Where we found Eric."
...
When Jack emerged from the jungle and onto the beach, he looked like a miserable, grimy mess, but the wide grin spanning his face said otherwise. He was excited and eager to tell Ralph about his discovery in the forest, and the anticipation of the other boy's reaction made him dance about with jollity. Disappointment, however, descended, when the only boy Jack saw on the beach was Percival, hunched over and playing in the sand.
"Where is Ralph?!"
The small boy jumped with surprise and turned around to face his chief. "Uh... Uh... He an' Sam went to go and find Johnny an' Henry," he sputtered.
Jack frowned and stalked away, slightly annoyed at how much attention Ralph was giving the remaining twin. Be reasonable, he told himself, trying to keep from clenching his fists. Be reasonable. The boy's brother was killed, for heaven's sake! He probably still cries about it at night!
Not sure of where to seek out Ralph and Sam, Jack decided to call it a day and headed back to Castle Rock. The sun was already at an oblique angle as it poked through the clouds, sending long shadows of the trees across the glowing, white sand. Jack opted to forget about Sam altogether; the chief was still ecstatic about the waterfall he found in the jungle and as soon as Ralph returned, he would gush about it all evening.
...
"Dear God." Ralph fell to the sand, the sharp grains pushing against his knees. In front of him lay the sprawled bodies of Johnny and Henry, their limbs splayed out in unnatural ways. "Why?"
Sam twitched nervously. "This is rotten business right here."
"They're both so bruised up," the older boy murmured, not crushed by the deaths, but still feeling quite somber. "A lot like how... yeah."
The twin nodded. "Think it's Roger?"
Ralph glanced away from the two bodies, up at the darkening sky. "Yeah, but why now, all of a sudden? And why?"
"He's strange, I tell you," Sam grumbled, trying not to look at the dead boys' bloodied faces. "Savage. Doesn't care about anybody. He beat up on me an' Eric real good when he discovered we'd been talking to you the day before they went hunting for you. Got real mad when he found out we lied to him about where you were hidden."
"I suppose we'll just have to avoid him, then," Ralph said, still looking at the pink and orange clouds on the horizon. "It's getting late. We really should start heading back to Castle Rock before Jack gets suspicious."
"I guess." Sam forced himself to come to terms with death and he glanced down at the corpses that laid in front of him and Ralph. "We can't just leave them here."
Shuddering, Ralph knelt down and carefully lifted the broken body of Henry. "I know. Not overnight. And we can't bury them, either, or Jack'll get mad and he might never believe us." The older boy tore his gaze away from the lifeless eyes of the boy in his arms, then motioned with his chin to Sam. "Can you handle picking him up and carrying him back to Castle Rock?"
Though he was visibly shivering and obviously hating the idea of touching a dead body, the twin nodded. He stooped down and gathered the boy in his arms. It wasn't physically demanding for Sam to carry the dead littlun -- Johnny had been the smallest boy on the island. But mentally, it was a long haul, and Sam took a deep breath, trying to console himself of this terrible task.
As they started the long trek back to Castle Rock, Ralph kept his chin up and his wandering eyes away from the body he carried. He breathed in and out of his mouth, refusing to accept the smell of death in his nostrils. And, as he saw the small, lit fires nestled among the pink granite boulders, Ralph wondered what Jack would think.
...
A/N: I hope you enjoyed that. Before long, the eighth chapter will be up, because I am really starting to get into this all of a sudden. (Seven chapters already... Wow, I feel accomplished.) Have a great weekend, my wonderful readers and reviewers!
-mo