Of Love and Lords
Author's Note: Hello there! Thank-you so much to those of you who took time to review my interpretation of 'Lord of the Flies'. I hope that this chapter is able to please you in ways that only Ralph and Emma can. Feel free to review, be it a flame, constructive criticism, and any other comments you may have on how I can improve my writing. For example, too much dialogue, too little, not enough conversing between characters, or the need of more asides/thoughts from our heroine, Emma. Thanks once again and enjoy the sixth installment of 'Of Love and Lords'!
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Lord of the Flies' nor do I own any of William Golding's marvelous characters.
Summary: A girl's uncle offers to take her flying as a present for her fifteenth birthday. Though her uncle would be on the job, and would be transporting an umpteen amount of boys to their destination, nothing could shatter Emma's dream of finally being able to fly. During the flight, the plane encounters a horrible tropical storm, sending the fiery plane, crashing down into the ocean. Emma Sinclair awakes on the sandy beach, only to be surprised at having two boys confusedly starring at her. And so the battles of love and lords begin.
Chapter Six
The air pulsed for a moment as Ralph and Emma were left silent, eyeing Simon as he began to stroke the radio affectionately. Emma noticed Ralph take a small step forward as the radio came to life briefly, a monotone static sound echoing throughout the forest. Simon's attention broke. He looked from Emma to Ralph, a scoff emerging deep from within his throat.
"Take in then," said Simon, annoyed. "As if I know what to do with it." He beckoned Ralph towards him, waving the radio from left to right teasingly.
Ralph's eyes flickered to Emma's, seeking reassurance from her. Hesitantly, he reached for it, easily securing it within his two strong hands. He brushed the hair from his face with the base of his palm, staring intently at the small black radio in his other. A short stint of static materialized from the black square once again.
Ralph cleared his throat loudly "Simon, I must suggest for you to head on back to camp. And as your Chief, I will require you to tell no one of what we've found."
"Yes, alright," Simon assured him, rising to his feet. "Do inform me of the progress you make."
Simon nodded his head at both Emma and Ralph and finally departed, not looking back once.
"Ha," Emma began. "Simon is quite odd, isn't he?" She fingered at the hem of her skirt.
"Yeah," Ralph breathed in deeply. "We had better get him down from there." He nodded his head towards the German.
Emma scrunched her face in confusion. "And how do you propose we do that?"
"I'll think of something." Ralph concluded.
Emma rolled her eyes; men. According to Emma, all of their heads were far too substantial for their necks; but in a literal sense of course. Charles Darwin (the man who believes that humans derive from monkeys or baboons; essentially some type of savagery animal) was quite taken with the idea that the average brain of a man weighs approximately 11 more than that of a woman's. In Emma's most humble opinion, it was only 11 more fat that could be found in their skulls.
Emma furrowed her eyebrows with worry. "Ralph I do hate to nag you, but we are pressed for time. Jack or Roger might decide to stroll through these parts at any given minute!"
Ralph rubbed at his temples. "Emma," he swallowed deeply and lowered his head. "Could you spare your skirt?" A smile appeared on his lips as soon as the words left his mouth. What cheek.
Emma's skin grew hot and it was quite evident that the apples of her cheeks, or generally her face altogether, had turned an unmistakable shade of red. Regrettably, this was an occurrence that Emma could not help.
She screeched. "What could you possibly need my skirt for? You're a boy!" She pulled at the hem of her frock, stretching the material to her knees.
"No, no!" Ralph shook his head vigorously, turning a bright pink (unbeknownst to him). "I meant a piece of it. All…of it would be ideal though."
"WHAT?" Emma shrieked.
"I'd only need it for a moment," Ralph paused, eyeing Emma's skirt. "to climb the tree."
"This had better not be some stchupid prank that you are playing with the others, Ralph!" She huffed, beginning to loosen the clasp of her skirt. "Turn around!" Her curls bounced as she whipped her head toward Ralph.
Ralph spun on his heels at her command.
Emma quickly disrobed, letting her skirt land in a heap beside Ralph. She smoothed out the numerous wrinkles found in her recently acquired silk camisole, cringing at a small tear in the blue fabric. Nothing would mortify her more than to be seen so indecently dressed.
"It's like a nudey magazine, but better." A voice whispered in awe from behind her.
Emma gasped, flailing her arms across her body in order to salvage what she could of her dignity. She turned around in agony, only to face a sweaty and panting Piggy; adjusting his spectacles for a closer look.
Ralph's voice emerged from behind her. "Piggy, what are you doing here?" The surprise in his voice could not be masked
From the corner of her eye, two things were apparent. Ralph's smirk was the first. The second was the fact that he was freely scanning the expanse of her body. God only knew what Piggy was doing at the moment. It was as if with the use of his spectacles, he could see through to much more than her soul alone.
"Good lord." Emma spoke in realization of her predicament.
Emma watched as Piggy seated himself at the base of a tree. "It's ever to difficult to breathe in these blasted tropical environments!"
Emma turned towards Ralph and spoke through clenched teeth. "Get on with it then!" She hoped that her anger would be enough to make him work more efficiently.
Ralph snatched Emma's skirt from the moist soil, securing it around the tree. He grasped each end of the fabric in his hands, using it to support his weight as he planted his feet on the rough, moss-covered bark. He slowly began to ascend. Emma admired Ralph's strong physique as he climbed, her eyes glued to the blatant movement of muscles in his back. Ralph lost his footing for a moment; shards of bark fell into Emma's hair as a deep grimace appeared on her face. She resisted the urge to mother him. He righted himself almost instantly, an arm's length from the soldier. Ralph awkwardly edged himself onto an unsteady branch, leaping a foot into the air to secure the one above him. He eased himself onto it slowly. Reaching around the body of the tree, he held onto it tightly as he began to search the pocket of his red shorts, unearthing what appeared to be a short and trim knife.
Emma's breath was caught in her throat. Ralph's knife eased through the tangled rope as easy as a dollop of butter awaiting a bun. Emma's stomach growled at the thought. Both Piggy and Emma's heads shot up as soon as the German crumpled to the ground. It was then that Emma could finally see his face: wispy blonde hair fell into the German's deep-set blue eyes. They starred unseeing into hers. A trickle of dried blood was apparent under his upturned nose, hidden in the mosaic that was dirt and grime found on his face.
Emma peeled her eyes from the German's, instead she glanced at Ralph. He stood tall, his smooth arm leaning on the coarse brown bark as he looked about his hands. Between his fingers, he moved the knife about, knowing perfectly well who he would use it on. It was then that she not only saw Ralph, the image of gold that she was in love with; but the Ralph who's eyes she would not allow to stare into hers lifelessly. He was blood, and bones, and dirt in that moment. He was the German soldier that lay dead at her feet; evil, real. But Emma would not let him die. Not on her accord. Ralph would live, be it on the island or off of it. Emma would go to Jack; and so, Ralph would live.
Lost in her thoughts, Emma was oblivious to the fact that Ralph had begun to edge his way down the tree. The violent tear which occurred moments later was enough to rouse her. Ralph was on his feet instantly, well aware of the shreds of fabric clenched tightly in his hands.
"Shit, Emma! I didn't do it on purpose!" Ralph assured her, his blue eyes frantically darting from Emma to what once was her dress.
"I suppose you'll just have to do with," Piggy cleared his throat smugly. "that articleof clothing from now onwards?"
"It appears so, Piggy." Emma spat.
"Emma, we'll find something for you afterwards. We have to move him." Ralph's eyes rested on the German corpse.
Emma huffed, no longer concerned with her appearance. "What I'd like to know is where you found that knife!"
"Really, Emma," Piggy breathed deeply. "Stop being such a girl and help Ralph." Beads of sweat appeared above his brow.
"This coming from you, lardass?" Emma retorted, a rather prominent vein appearing on her forehead. She began to approach Piggy, hoping it would be as easy as it seemed to make him squeal.
Anger flashed across Piggy's plump face. "I'll have you know that I suffer from a respiratory malad-" Piggy's statement was cut short when Ralph's eyes shot daggers toward his.
Emma flicked at her hair violently and marched toward Ralph and the German instead. She did not waste her time on farm animals. Ralph grabbed at the German under his arms while Emma made herself useful by attempting to lift his ankles from the ground. They half carried, half dragged the German to the rock wall which Emma and Ralph had previously concealed themselves behind. They placed the soldier behind it, his neatly folded parachute positioned in the center of his chest. This German boy who appeared to be no more than eighteen would be left alone in his temporary burial plot. It left Emma in distraught to think that he was the son of an unknowing mother and even the brother of an unknowing sibling. She let her mind wander. The dead boy reminded her all too much of her younger brother Michael. How were they coping without her? Had they already attended her funeral?
Piggy clapped his hands together. "Now that that's been tended to, I suppose I'll head back to camp and fit in a quick nap before supper."
"Yes you must be exhausted!" Emma did not make an attempt to hide the sarcasm in her voice.
Piggy's stomach growled. "Apparently famished too!" He giggled to himself and was off, hoping he would find a decent pile of leaves to lie down on.
"We may as well head back ourselves." Emma reached for what remained of her skirt and cradled it in her arms.
Ralph began to poke at the radio. "I wanted to find a place to mess around with this first."
"We'd get a better signal on higher ground wouldn't we?" Emma presumed, twiddling a piece of fabric between her thumbs.
"Yeah, I know just the spot." Ralph walked off.
Emma looked after him for a moment and then followed unwillingly. She had not been fond of Ralph's behavior in the past hour. He had no reason to be distant; Jack and Roger were not present. Perhaps it was easier for him then she had initially thought. She could see him finding her irritating; even a burden. She had always had such great luck with boys. Emma thought back to third year when she had fancied her neighbor's son. They had played together each day for a fortnight. It was then that she was walking through the park with her mum one day toward the market. Pleading with her mother for a quick go on the swings was long enough to witness Gareth picking a daisy for Hannah Smith; Staglane Primary's resident harlot.
Emma and Ralph reached a clearing. Walking further into it, Emma's eyes widened as she took in the sight in front of her. From where they were standing, the entire island was in view, alongside the wide expanse of ocean after it. At the tide, Emma could make out what was most likely litluns splashing each other in the water. Further up the white beach, a chute of smoke erupted from a blazing fire, the smell of meat on the breeze. It was apparent that Jack and Roger had been successful.
Emma heard Ralph seat himself behind her. She looked as he continued to prod at the black square; his face a scrunched towel of concentration. After ten minutes or so, it frustrated Emma to realize that her ears had become accustomed to the sound of static emerging from the radio. She ignored it and continued to watch over the island.
"It was then that-."
"What?" Emma asked, refusing to turn around.
"German's have employed the use of Chlorine gas as of-"
Emma finally turned to face Ralph. "What are you on about?"
"I have a signal!" Ralph held the radio higher.
Emma sprang to her feet and began to run toward Ralph when the sound of chanting stopped her in her tracks.
"Ooh, ahh, ooh, ooh, ahh." The voices sang in harmony.
The static dispersed as Ralph switched off the radio.
"We are hunters, hear us roar, this night we give you guts of boar! We paint of faces with its blood; we gods refuse the use of mud! We eat its flesh yet sacrifice its head, its brains, its snout, its eyes! We are hunters, hear us roar, this night we give you guts of boar!" The voices echoed as the chute of smoke grew darker and angrier.
"Let's go." Ralph leaped to his feet, grabbing Emma's forearm and dragging her through the clearing.
As they began to descend, a shadow caught Emma's eye.
"Wait," Emma pressed her heels to the ground in order halt. "That crack leads somewhere." She licked her lips curiously.
Behind a large boulder, a long, deep crack in the dark grey rock formation was evident. Emma tugged Ralph toward it. As they grew closer, Ralph drenched his arm across Emma's shoulders, stopping her from proceeding.
"Wait here," He mumbled, stepping into the darkness.
Emma held her breath, looking around to distract herself from thinking of whatever was currently murdering Ralph. She and Ralph would continue down a steep slope and into the green forest. She hadn't realized how steep it indeed was. Eyeing it nervously she jumped when Ralph's head emerged from the black, a smile lining his face. He gently grasped her hand and moments later, the darkness enveloped her also. Emma tightened her grip; her hand was beginning to moisten. With her other, she let her fingers graze the side of the rock and feel at the black aimlessly. She paused, feeling the heat radiating from Ralph, quickening her pace to stay close to him. Turning a corner, Emma and Ralph were basked in a brilliant ray of light. Emma could not believe her eyes. Around her were the wide walls of the surrounding cave, littered in intricate drawings of blue, red, white, and brown. She let her fingers slide over each of them, taking in the rough texture of the walls and the berry seeds trapped within the paints. Distracted, Emma froze in place when Ralph wrapped his hand move from the small of her back to engulfing her waist. He rested his head on her shoulder, intertwining their left hands. Carefully, he raised them, pointing them to the drawing directly in front of them.
"Look," he whispered. "They tell a story." He traced the drawings with their intertwined fingers.
It began with a man painted a rich brown. He was covered with feathers of blue and red while his face was painted an ivory white. Before him, his people kneeled in awe; some of them throwing themselves at his feet in submission. In the next drawing, the man, who Emma presumed to be a chief had his hands and face pressed against the very pregnant belly of his wife; her body adorned in blue and red while her face was painted a chalk white.
Emma's eyes quickly darted to the next drawing. In his arms, the chief held what was quite obviously a son. Its naked and golden body provided Emma's discomfort. The next drawing sported the chief teaching his son how to hunt. The presence of red was a strong one in this picture; together they had slaughtered a boar. It lay defeated at their feet.
In the next three drawings, it was evident that the chief's son had grown into a thriving young man; a bloodthirsty one at that. As the king grew old, his son would lead the hunting party. The chief's son and his delegates would solely provide food for their entire community. In the next drawing, it was evident that the chief's son required recognition for this. As the chief slept soundly next to his newly pregnant wife, their son, in a fury of madness, killed them while they slept. Emma's eyes widened as this occurred to her.
The following picture embarked their son as the village's new leader; his arms spread wide, fingers outstretched toward the sun. The next image grew darker in content; the village's new chief began to go mad. He covered his ears and closed his eyes tightly as the ghosts of his mother and father haunted him to madness. And soon he could not bear it. He set the forest ablaze in hopes of ending his torture, and with it he took the lives of his people and his own; the flesh on their screaming faces burning off.
Emma turned her head away, unable to stomach the value of realism captured in the image. Emma felt her face contort; the last drawing was left unfinished. The sketch of a boat and what appeared to be its passengers arriving at an island of screaming faces.
Emma let her hand fall to her side. "What an awful story."
Ralph turned Emma around to face him. "Certainly not something we should tell to the litluns before they sleep."
Emma was keenly aware of how close their faces were to one another. Her thighs began to ache as he gently pushed her up against the tribal drawings. The walls were slick with morning dew, leaving goose bumps where it touched Emma's bare arms. Ralph starred into Emma's eyes with what she found to be unspeakable intensity. He planted his arm to the left of her head, towering over her. And with that, he leaned in to kiss her. Emma felt her skin set ablaze as soon as their lips touched. He parted her lips with his tongue, flicking it over her teeth, begging for entrance. As their tongues intertwined, Emma felt her hands grabbing at Ralph's face, hoping to deepen the kiss. Her hands felt their way to his mop of hair; she tugged at his golden strands and as their kissing deepened Emma could scarcely breathe; her lungs were squished under the weight of his body. As if she cared. A soft moan escaped her mouth; her eyes opening in realization at what had formed around Ralph's shorts. Oh god. She had allowed things to go too far. Emma broke away from Ralph. She had two options. She fingered at the clasp on his shorts, her heart beating so fast that she may have passed out.
Ralph leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "It's because I love you, Emma." He removed her hands from his pants, placed them at her sides and retreated towards the light.