Chapter 2: Decisions To Be Made
"You told them! Ralph-I told you not to."
Ralph paused and turned around, standing halfway down the slope. He could feel the stares of Jack and Simon on his back, more focused than the gazes of the crowds of smaller boys still on the platform among Sam and Eric. However, among their stares there was only one intimidatory one-the one belonging to Piggy, who now adorned a more intense version of his upset expression. Ralph's previous smile became somewhat of a frown as he thought of a reply, but it seemed that Piggy had more to say.
"And not only that. I was with you before anyone else was. Why can't I come with you?"
Ralph broke eye contact and looked down at the ground, guiltily. "I'm sorry if you feel that way."
Piggy took another step forward, slight hostility still present in his tone. "Well, it's gone and done now and they already know, so there's no going back. But are you going to let me come with you?"
Ralph hurriedly thought of something. He did respect Piggy in a certain light, as a friend, but he felt a need to prove himself in a way, more specifically to Jack. It was painfully obvious by this point that Jack apparently despised Piggy for no real reason-he had not even the slightest implication where his hatred stemmed from, but he just couldn't shake the feeling of needing to impress him. Then, suddenly he got an idea-something to keep him on the plane of neutrality.
"We need you to get the choir's names while we're gone. And look for food. We'll try to look for some too, but for now just make sure you have everyone's names."
At first it looked like Piggy was going to say something else, but then he was somberly content with this idea and turned away, treading back up the small sandpath and resuming his position on the platform, still with his familiar disgruntled aura. Ralph watched him for a moment longer, beginning to regret his decision; but he became aware of the crunching of undergrowth and sand behind him, and turned to leave, seeing Jack impatiently making his way down and onto the next terrain.
Their exploration around the island was mostly spent in happiness and wonder at the new environment around them. Ralph, for one, was overjoyed at every new discovery they made, expressing this in more of his signature headstands and cartwheels, at a loss for other ways to convey his pure, genuine euphoria. Both Jack and Simon seemed amused by his antics, however only the former would join in with him at times, causing disturbances in the surrounding plants and sending creatures scampering away. When he wasn't being hyperactive, Ralph tried to get some words out of Simon to the best of his ability, but when he did speak his voice sounded quiet and just a little timid, but nonetheless grateful to have someone talking to him. This lack of speech added to the air of mysteriosity surrounding the boy-it made Ralph wonder if he was ever even able to be heard in the choir in the first place. As for Jack, he seemed to regard the smaller boy with a detached playfulness. He was, after all, still the choir leader, and he probably still viewed Simon as just another member of the group, without something still remarkable to be made about him.
In their explorations, they came across many more of the exotic species that Ralph had only caught glimpses of not too long ago, when he was still lost and clinging on to hope that he could find an adult, and get home safely without trouble. While Ralph admired then for their foreign beauty, he internally made note that Simon seemed somewhat fascinated by them. On one occasion they had passed by a stray, spotted lizard, which rested on a rock out in the sun. With one tentative hand, Simon had been able to give it a small stroke on its back before it realized it had made contact with another being, and it scurried away into the cracks of the boulders. He seemed disappointed to have scared it off, signified by a quiet 'oh', but he continued onwards with the other two boys regardless; his curious eyes still scanning every last crevice like they were trying to memorize every single area.
Of course, animals were not the only things that they came across. Jack and Ralph both were not as focused on the creatures as much as they were with trying to catalogue every important piece of geography they visited. One of the most important places they found was the stream, decided to be one of their main sources of water. They tried to climb up the mountain, but then decided that it would take too long, and stopped a little before halfway and turned back to explore the rest of the island.
As the group progressed to an upward slope that finally broke out of the canopy out of its peak, they continued up it in hopes of getting a proper view of the area and to confirm that it truly was an island after all. At the very top of the hill, the grass broke away into little, gray, squarish rocks, providing just enough leverage for one to get a good look of the landmass from one end to the other.
Ralph was the one to climb it first, followed by his two friends, who all had their suspicions confirmed at the same time. From up here, the wind was crisp on Ralph's skin, serving as a contrast to the harshness of the sun around him. He briefly scanned over the land back and forth.
"This is an island, all right."
Jack nodded in confirmation, crawling up to stand on the rock beside him so he was about level. "So we're all on our own." He paused to look between the fair-haired boy and the raven-haired one, before continuing. "We'll need food. Maybe we could eat those lizards if we can't find anything else."
Unexpectedly, another voice entered into the conversation, and both Ralph and Jack's attention was focused on Simon immediately. "No," he said simply, shuffling absently in the heat.
"What other food do we have?" the redhead retorted, stepping off the mass of rocks to return to the ground below them. His tone wasn't particularly belligerent like it had been; instead, it was just more of a question than anything.
Now made somewhat nervous, Simon looked downwards at the ground. "There's fruit around. I saw it on the trees. We can eat that."
Trying to help him out, Ralph decided to further validate Simon's point. "Right. The lizards will be too hard to catch, anyway. If we eat the fruit, it'll save us a lot of time and trouble."
Jack's eyes narrowed at him for a moment, his eyes flickering between him and the smaller boy as if he was about to go against their words, but a second later he nodded affirmingly. "I suppose so. If Simon couldn't catch one." He began to walk back down the hill. "Come on, then. We've got to tell the others."
By the time they got back to the platform, the sky was flaming with the colors of sunset, slowly darkening into the tranquility of dusk. Most of the smaller boys had resorted to either sleeping, lying around, making the occasional complaint about hunger, or hiding in the undergrowth and playing with each other in a strange calmness. The choir boys appeared to have more energy; some pairs of them were engaged in mock fights or in extensive conversations, making the occasional remark at each other. Piggy only watched on in a silent solitude, his face still emotionless when all activity stopped as the group of three emerged out of the foliage and came onto the rocks. All eyes were on them-both expectant to hear the news, and hoping to hear word of a food source despite it never being specified that they would look for one.
Ralph stepped forward into the crowd to speak first, driven by the responsibilities of being chief. He was aware of Piggy's reminiscent eyes on him, still wary after their earlier encounter, and the guilt from before came over him as he realized that he must have been alone all day, left with nothing to do. Nonetheless, he forced himself to clear his throat, and he spoke. "We went up to the top of a hill, and we saw everything," he began, "and this place is definitely an island. So now, for certain, we're on our own."
Murmurs swelled from the crowd, heads turning to look at each other in response to the chief's words, wondering what the prospects of the future would be like. Ralph put up his hand for silence, feeling a surge of newfound authority when they all quieted and looked at him again. "So we'll have some decisions to make. Like Jack said," the fair-haired boy continued, glancing at the ginger, "we'll need rules, and lots of them. We'll need to be our own society if we want to survive."
The silence of the group continued as Ralph walked over and pulled himself up onto the rock he was resting upon previously before, the conch still placed there like some sort of idolic object, dappled in the remaining rays of sunlight of day. Jack and Simon, in the meanwhile, remained in their places over at the edge, in between the scattered smaller boys and choir boys.
Ralph, now seated firmly on the rock, turned around and cradled the conch in his hands reverently, tracing his fingertips over its contours gently. He took one last look around the collection of boys before resuming his speech. "First of all, we're hungry. There's no way we can survive for long here without food. So-there's a lot of fruit nearby, and we can eat that. We don't have any other food source right now, so right now we'll have to deal with it."
Nods of approval ensued, giving Ralph more confidence in his decisions, although a large majority of the boys looked impatient for him to end his speech so they could eat instead. Taking this into account, he was struck with another idea-a great one, he thought-and he himself didn't care much for his own words at the moment when he was so hungry.
"We'll eat first, and after a little while I'll blow the conch again so we can keep making decisions. That'll be our-our assembly signal. So whenever I blow the conch, we'll all meet back here on the platform-nowhere else. No exceptions."
It appeared that this proclamation had pleased the pack even more, since without warning, he was met with whooping noises and the crunching of earth as many of the boys leapt off the platform, almost collectively. Jack and the choir had left virtually all at once, apparently perfectly willing to keep together. Ralph was slightly disconcerted by this reaction; he had not exactly anticipated for their response to be so intense and quick, but he quickly reminded himself of their boredom compared to the excitement of adventure he had experienced that day.
Only Piggy remained at the side of the rock he was sitting upon, and Simon's body was jerked as he was pushed by others desperate to get off the platform and search for food. His smile had faded, and all that was left was another one of his neutral, uncertain faces. He stood firmly, still facing Ralph, like he was waiting for further direction from the chief but receiving none. Ralph stared at him momentarily, before he was called back to attention by the voice of Piggy.
"Ralph-can you come into the jungle with me? I'm afraid of getting lost in there."
Feeling that this was a chance to make up for the humiliation he had caused his friend earlier that day, Ralph flashed another vague smile and agreed before turning back to the vivid boy who was now looking at the rocky ground underneath him. It would have been seen as a bit cruel, he decided, if he just let Simon stand around and eventually go off to find fruit all by himself.
"Simon, you come too," he said, in the tone of a half-question and half-statement. The dark-haired boy grinned enigmatically.
"Thank you."
His voice was still the same as it always had been-a little small and somewhat timid, a voice that one would expect to come out of someone that was so quiet as him. Ralph had to admit that the traits certainly painted Simon as quite an endearing person, and he didn't doubt that he could have possibly gotten into the choir on charm alone. Among the other choir members he was certainly the gentlest among them; although he tried to not be too judgemental on the choir, since after all, he had hardly seen too much of them at all, and he did have some fondness for Jack.
Before long, their fruit-hunting excursion was over, and Ralph and his two companions were settled back onto the platform along with the others. He took notice that Piggy seemed to have warmed up to him again, forgiving him for his previous act, and he seemed to be perfectly willing to make conversation with him again. Simon had also returned to his usual quiet self, although he seemed now to prefer sitting closer to Ralph than the rest of the choir; the fair-haired boy didn't blame him, since he didn't really merge well with them.
The rule-deciding went mostly as he expected. Everyone spoke one at a time; whoever held the conch was allowed to speak; the hunters would look for food and keep up a signal fire in hopes of rescue, which would be kept on top of the mountain starting tomorrow; and they would build shelters on the beach out of wood tomorrow as well. Ralph was proud of the way things were going; it seemed as if things might turn out all right after all, and they'd be able to get home as safely as possible. By the time the meeting was over, however, darkness had already fallen and stars shimmered into existence in the blackening sky.
They'd made the mutual decision to sleep on the grass, as a group, underneath the shade of palm fronds. It was about the same temperature as sleeping on the sand, anyway; surprisingly, the night was much colder than Ralph had expected. His school sweater was already not doing too well of a job at keeping him warm, as the wind chilled him through the holes that had been made by the scratches from branches in its fabric. It seemed that this was a problem for some of the smaller boys as well, but they were huddled together in groups to generate warmth, and the choir boys always had their cloaks.
However, it was not strictly the cold that was causing him to shiver; this was the first time he had ever slept without any form of proper protection, more specifically from his parents or guardians. He was here, virtually all alone, just him and a crowd of unarmed boys, sleeping on an unknown island in an unknown ocean, a secret to the rest of the world. Faintly he tried to remember what it was like, back at home, back at the garden where the wild ponies would come over the garden wall and he would feed them the vegetables his mother was growing, or the apples that fell from the trees. If he could go back there now, and relinquish in its protective, idyllic warmth, then he would do anything to accomplish it. But all those thoughts and memories now served as oneiric recollections of what once was. Now, he must merely live in the dark and enshrouded present.
As he laid on the ground, shivering because of fear and cold and only managing to fall half-asleep, he became dimly aware of quiet rustling coming towards him in his direction. Absentmindedly, he rolled over onto his side, now facing the noise's direction. He hesitated before opening his eyes, a little unwilling to give up the prospects of sleep just yet.
When he did decide to open them, at first all he could see was the moonkissed darkness of the jungle's interior, but as his eyes adjusted to the light's tenebrosity, he was aware of a figure standing not too far from him, holding something even darker than the night itself. His eyes travelled further upwards to see who it was.
Simon's face peered down at him, eyes reflective in the moonlight. His expression was calm but concerned, watching him to see if he was awake for a few moments. When he was, he cautiously made his way between the plants, careful to not make a noise, and knelt down carefully beside him, still holding the dark object. Ralph stared at him, confused, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Seeing that it appeared Simon was too afraid to speak first, he decided to start with a simple question.
"What are you doing?"
Simon held out the object, which he could now determine to be a cloak, and touched it to his arm. "I saw you were cold. Here, take my cloak-I don't need it."
Hesitant to take up his offer, Ralph sat up so the two would be at even eye level. He was unsure of what he had done to deserve such a proposal. "Why are you giving it to me? Don't you want it instead?"
Another enigmatic smile came to the choir boy's visage, an innocent but seemingly knowing one. "You talked to me, and you offered to let me come get food with you," he explained, pushing the cloak further into Ralph's grasp, "so you can have it. I don't need it."
Still confused but grateful for his generosity, Ralph grinned in return, a vague but genuine one. He held the cloak and wrapped it around himself, and this time it was his turn to give thanks. "Thank you."
Simon only shook his head, letting a quiet laugh escape past his lips. He stood as he did so, taking a couple steps back to reach his previous sleeping spot, underneath a mound of ferns, almost obscuring him from view entirely. He stopped for a moment, and looked at the fair-haired boy, and it was clear that there were thoughts flitting behind his eyes as if he were going to say more, but then he turned, crouched underneath the ferns, and curled up again, hidden in the depths of nature. If there was one thing about Simon to be said, then it was certainly that he did not act like any of the others at all. Sure, there was Piggy, and he was a solitary member; but his solitude was far different from that of Simon's. It was as if he knew something that Ralph didn't, while Piggy was merely excluded for his differences. It was such a strange phenomenon that Ralph was unsure if he could ever get a grasp on it.
For now, he decided to not question the strange ways of the smaller boy. He would have to accept the supposed fact that Simon was comfortable without his cloak, and he would have to sleep underneath it. Besides, he doubted that in these conditions he'd be able to find him anyway; since he was smaller than most of the other choir boys, he'd probably mistake one of the little ones for him and accidentally wake them. And he wasn't quite to putting up with anyone else at the moment, so he just laid back down on the fertile, soft earth and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep.
Sometime or another he must have fallen into unconsciousness, although it certainly didn't feel like it. But when he opened his eyes the sky was blue again and the beach was bright, and sunlight was scattered through the fronds across his body. The cloak was still clenched tightly to his chest, suggesting the remnants of a nightmare or bloody recollection of home. Some of the pressures of oneiric calamities still rested on his shoulders, but he forced himself to sit up similar to the night before, in order to fulfill the promises of yesterday's meeting.
Oddly, he noticed, as the day was set into motion, Jack was nowhere to be seen. He'd assumed at first that the redhead, what with his authoritative attitude, had gone off and searched for fruit on his own without alerting him or any of the other group members, but he gradually lost hope in this idea as the day progressed to the early afternoon. He tried to think of other ideas of what he could be occupied with-maybe he'd gotten stuck somewhere, or he was off swimming and he got distracted. Certainly the fruit idea was no longer an option, since there was still an abundance of it near the platform, and even more of the surplus was spread throughout various, ambiguous trees in the forest, so if one was on a serious hunt for it, they would come across at least some form of fruit within minutes. So logically, there must be something that he was doing that was keeping him.
As he helped to build the fire on top of the mountain though, and they worked out who was to guard it that day, he wasn't so sure of if what he was doing was a good thing. If someone was deep in the forest, trained so intently on something that they couldn't even remember their job for the day, then what exactly could they be doing?
A small, black, furred body moved through the underbrush, in a search for fruits low to the ground, an easy treat. Its hooves pattered on the luscious earth beneath it, without a care in the world of any predators on the island. This was only because it was blissfully unaware of the sharp blue eyes trained on it, consumed by hunger.
The pig continued, casually lopping a fern aside to reach the berries that it secreted underneath. It ate ravenously and quickly, eager to get back to its den in the furthest reaches of the pig-runs. The red-headed owner of the blue eyes advanced silently through the plants surrounding him, baring his teeth as if trying to imitate a beast, perhaps, that would be preying upon the creature in front of it. In his hand was his one and only method of proper offense-a pocket knife, with a blade fine enough to at least cut through the hide of a swine. And for now, that was enough for him.
The pig finished devouring the berries, and turned its attention to more fruit, leaving its flesh vulnerable, out in the open. The redhead's nerves shook in anticipation, urging him forward with the beginnings of sensations he did not know were possible. He knew that, in this stage, should he try to control himself, he would be capable of it; but the blood rushing through him made him unwilling to do so. And so the grip on his blade tightened, his muscles tense and ready to rush over to the pig and stab into it. He'd impress the others; he'd impress Ralph; and he would impress himself. He would become capable of power that no one else on the island had, and then he would teach that power to his hunters, and they would survive.
The pig was backing out of the hole containing the fruit, prepared to leave. In the blink of an eye the redhead sprang forward, his blade ready, ready to be dripping with the blood of the creature, ready to carve the meat out of its body, and he was going to swing it into its flesh, and the blade was ready to pierce its skin-
But he couldn't do it.
The muscles of the arm holding the knife locked and froze in place. He could not force his hand to stab the swine's flesh, and as soon as the pig realized what was happening within a matter of mere moments, it gave a high-pitched squeal and scurried off, deep into the jungle, never to be seen again. And as it did, the muscles were still, like they were suspended in disbelief and the conditioning of society.
Jack stood, warily, unsure of what exactly had claimed his body in those moments. He couldn't decide whether it was an excitingly new or disturbingly strange experience. If he had killed the pig, he could have pleased the crowd with meat; but now that he had not, it meant that he had been out in the forest for hours, accomplishing nothing. He cocked a critical ear at the sounds around him, and became aware of very distant, faint chatter somewhere above him on the mountain. Perhaps he'd make an excuse of some sort to hide the fact that he'd been following and searching for a pig for the past several hours, something impressive to show for his time rather than something disappointing. Yes, that was what he would do.
After all, he was the great hunter Jack Merridew, and he would never fail in a hunt. Not admittedly, at least.
Here's chapter 2! Although no one has read it as of now, still here's the second chapter. Again, any feedback at all is appreciated! This will probably pick up next chapter, where there will finally be some actual conflict. Thanks for reading and have a great day!