It was strange how it ended. Thinking back, it doesn't even seem like it happened. The presence of the Officer gave our heads all a good shake. 1Looking at the Officer, standing there in his white-topped cap, and pressed uniform almost made us forget what we had done, where we were. Almost. Staring up at him, I realized that I was a little afraid. With a shock, I realized that my fear was being reflected onto his face, as he looked down at our grimy bodies, our matted hair. My fear was all but forgotten when he smiled brightly down at Ralph.
"What have you been doing? Having a war or something?"
I watched mutely as Ralph nodded, shuddered, the image of war bringing back memories that I would rather have liked to not come back. There was a long silence then, and I knew that all the boys were fighting back the same memories that I was.
"Nobody killed, I hope? Any dead bodies?"
"Only one." Ralph opened his mouth to say more, but thought better of it and closed it again.
The heat behind us was getting intense, the flames licking at the tops of trees. The air smelled of burnt wood, and the dying forest behind us was alive with the sounds of cracking and popping fire.
The Officer's face again subtly flashed with fear. I wondered if he was afraid of us, afraid of our weak pointed sticks, or perhaps he was afraid of the situation that we were all in. Ralph turned to look at me, a long searching stare, before he turned back to the Officer who was inquiring who the leader was.
Ralph opened his mouth. "I am." His tone was firm, almost daring. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Jack took a step forward. I expected the worse, my fear building up inside of me. Thank God for the Officer, I thought, or else Jack and Ralph would finish it all right here. Jack surprised me when he mutely took a step back, and didn't say anything.
"I should have thought," the Officer started, his eyes scanning the remains of the forest, and the Littluns scattered in the sand, "I should have thought that a pack of British boys would have been able to put up a better show that that…" He let the statement hang. This time it was I who spoke up.
"It was like that at first. We were British then. Things happened, things fell apart…" I looked at Ralph hopefully.
Ralph said nothing, and I turned and looked again at the desolate beach, the brown bodies of the boys now looking odd, and alien. I remembered the first day, the heat, the conch, the fear of the beast, Simon….
"Well come on then. I'll take you out of here. You do want to leave, don't you?"
The question filled the air, surrounded every boy. Many of the smaller boys felt like shouting, but the tangible anxiety that filled the air quieted them. Dumbly, Ralph started forward and broke the motionless atmosphere. The officer turned smartly, his eye on the ship ahead, and led the way, a trail of dark little creatures following single file behind him.
About 1 hour later, when the boys gathered in the large room below deck that was used at the dining area, we hardly recognized each other. We were clean for the first time in ages, our hair was cut, and we were given some fresh clothes. Our feet were still bare, as no shoes to fit us could be found, but no one minded, as no one was willing to relinquish the freedom of stockingless feet. The air around us pulsed and hummed from the big motor that propelled the massive ship. The officer that had rescued us entered the room, and we all stopped staring at each other to stare at him.
"Listen, boys." He began, "What happened on that island is done. You're safe now. You'll be taken back home, or to some where safe." He stopped, and gestured towards the younger man standing to his right. "This is Lieutenant Reithers. He will take you to your rooms, and show you around the ship." He made to leave but Ralph stopped him, saying;
"Thank you. You know, for coming." The Officer seemed almost humbled at this, affixed him with a small smile, and nodded. The man he had put in charge of us stood up and motioned for us to follow. I wondered how many people were on a boat like this, and how many ships had sailed on by our island. I caught myself, and changed my thought. The island, not ours. A loud whistle sounded, and the expression on the Officer's face changed to a curious one.
"Change of plan, boys. Stay here. I'll be right back."
He and the Officer left, sharing hushed whispers as then went. So we sat back down. The silence that followed was just beginning to grow heavy when a littlun broke the reverie.
"What do we do now, Ralph?"
I looked over at him and for the first time I seen him as a boy, not as a friend, not as an invincible leader, but as a boy who was tired of responsibility, tired of being in charge. Glancing at Jack, I could see that he was also exhausted, but it worried me that the he still had that dangerous glint in his eye. Jack saw me looking and made his face expressionless, unreadable. All heads turned to him as he spoke up.
"We wait. Ralph isn't boss anymore." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Neither am I, I suppose. We are back in the adult's world. There are rules again." They way he said it made me wonder if perhaps he wished he was back on the Island, back to being the terrible creature beneath the war paint. There was silence again, until a flurry of footsteps outside the door broke us from our thoughts. Faint voices reached us, shouting something.
"Ship!"
We waited for someone to fetch us; all the power that we had on the island to do what we wanted seemed to have disappeared with the wafting smoke that I could still image drifting up from the trees. There were more voices shouting, but this time the words were not understandable, though every one of us was straining our ears to hear. 5 minutes passed, and the littluns began to grow bored, and retreated to a table were some fruit was set out. I wasn't sure if I could eat another piece of fruit for the rest of my life. After what seemed like ages Lieutenant Reithers appeared again.
"Come on boys."
We followed him out of the room and up a flight of stairs to the main deck. The whole scene was organized disarray, but comforting, the white surface greeting us warmly. We could see the focal point of the chaos; another smaller ship lay moored to ours.
"Boys, there has been a change of plans. This ship is better equipped to take you to where you need to go. You'll be boarding in a few minutes."
So we waited again, all clustered up in the center of the mayhem that was occurring as people rushed past with supplies, ropes and oddly shaped bags.
The boarding, introduction to the new captain and person in charge of us, and the tour of the new ship passed by in blur. Before we even had a chance to think, night had fallen, and we were given one last look at the familiar stars glimmering overhead before we were ushered to our rooms. Sleep was hard to find though, and I needed to go to the bathroom. Quietly getting up, I wandered out of my room down the long hallway, picked a random door and opened it. There was a man2 sitting inside, a lamp casting a soft glow over his face.
"Hullo there." He said.
"Sorry sir, I was trying to find the bathroom." I told him rather nervously.
"Nah, that's alright I needed a break. Come in."
I did, and shut the door softly behind me.
"You're one of those kids aren't you? From that Island."
I looked at him, curious of his peculiar accent, and nodded.
He laughed hollowly. "You just got out of hell, and here I am walking right into it."
I looked at him closer. His brown hair was cut short, his face clean-shaven, but deeply lined. For a brief second, I saw him as Ralph, or what Ralph would have become if we had never been rescued. I shook my head.
"What's your name?" He asked.
I hesitated here, not sure. Finally I said, "The boys call me Piggy." He looked at me curiously for a minute, took in my large frame, my chunky fingers.
"Call me Mick."
I was feeling braver, noticing that he hadn't made fun of my name and I asked, "Where did you say you were going?"
"Same place you are, though for different reasons. My country, Ireland, is in trouble. I'm on a devil's errand, an impossible task."
"Why?" I asked, "It can't be as bad as you think. We're only just coming back to our home after…." I broke off, still unwilling to pull up those memories. "Bad things happen, they always will. It's 'cos people get frightened. Then their minds don't work. It turns them into savages."
Mick stared at me, curious at this outburst.
"Are you afraid, Piggy?"
I pondered that for a moment.
"Maybe. I think we are always kind of afraid. Maybe the beast is everywhere; we just have to ignore it. There has to be something else but fear, else everyone would be like we were on the island. Mad. It ruins the rules, breaks people up." I wasn't sure what possessed me to spill all this to this stranger, but I continued anyway.
"The world wouldn't work right, if everything we was afraid of was real. We are only really scared of each other." I fell silent now, and waited for the man to tell me to leave and quit disturbing him. But he didn't send me away. He looked at me quietly for a few minutes before speaking again.
"Maybe you should go in my place. Maybe you could talk some sense into those English gob-shites. I am afraid. Not of war, not of guns, but of the future, the future that I am creating. I am afraid that everything I do will end up ruining Ireland. I am afraid to slip, for it would be the fall of me, and my people." He too stopped, and pondered why he was revealing all of this information to a fat little boy who got lost on his way to the lavatory.
"Perhaps fear is alright, as long as it's kept under control. Fear is only bad when it takes over. My auntie says that that's why people throw bombs. They are afraid of people throwing them first. That's why they kill people. That's why we killed-" I broke off, the memory of Simon no longer willing to be repressed. Great, fat tears rolled down my cheeks and the man silently handed me his handkerchief, and listened as I choked out my story, being on the island, the storm, the two tribes, and I told him about Simon. I wiped my face and looked at him. Tears also glistened in his eyes, but his face remained stoic, almost as if he was being brave on my behalf. I noticed a half written letter lying on the small desk that the lamp stood.
"I should go. Sorry to have bothered you." He looked at me and shook his head.
"No, son, it was no bother. You've helped me too, in a way. I suppose we have to keep looking forward, not over our shoulders at the shadows. You are more clever than any adult who tries to tell you otherwise."
"But my auntie says…"
He stopped me. "What do you think Piggy? Don't be afraid. You're aunty is smart, but I've learned the best lessons are those up here." He pointed to his mind. "And in here." He gestured to his heart.
I thought about this and knew it was true, knew that that there I had a life to live that would be separate from the island.
I stood up slowly to leave, gave the man one last look that he returned with a small encouraging smile, and quietly let myself out. I departed having let go of my story, and I felt that he had too. Sure, the fear would always be there, the memories ever lingering, but now I could let go, just as he could, and look to the future. I found my room and lay down on the bed, closed my eyes, and let sleep take me. I looked forward to tomorrow, a new day, even with the fear still present, when I would start to live again, apart from the Island.
1 For the purposes of this assignment, and through creative license, this story takes place at the end of the Lord of the Flies novel, with the assumption that Piggy had not died, gotten his glasses back, and had run away from Jack's tribe with Ralph, where they were rescued by the Officer.
2 For the purposes of this story, the time areas between the Lord of the Flies, and Michael Collins are the same. The new boat is the one that is taking Mick to Britain to debate the treaty.