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Sobbing. Sobbing and wide eyes. That's all that the adults got on the ship, sobbing coming from the littluns and not a response from the older boys, just the wide eyes. The hundred-yard stare.
They had only been on the boat with each other for maybe 30 minutes and it was already very awkward for many of the older boys. None of them wanted to come to terms with what they each had done. It especially got worse when any boy would look back and see the fire—that they had started—still burning the island. The flames licked the air as they rose higher and higher, mimicking and mocking them like the first night on the island. When the first tragedy happened.
Ralph thinks that he is the only person thinking of the littlun with a mulberry-covered birthmark over his eye. He thinks of how much that kid must have felt down there, all by himself, fire all around him, the burning heat melting his skin from the inside out, it bubbling. He retches. He tells himself to not think about that before he really throws up. He thinks it was a disgrace that none of the other boys got to know his name, besides Piggy. Ralph remembered him going around to the littluns and trying to get all their names, cursing under his breath when he got a name wrong. He almost laughed at the memory of the twins making Piggy confused with their matching faces. Then he thinks of how hypocritical he was being. He never even got to know Piggy's name. His real name.
He mulls it over in his head, over and over again, as a large, rough hand rests on his nape. Being so entranced by his thoughts, he didn’t even realize that the man was talking; the first thing he imputed was the man's cologne. A sharp smell violating his nasal, hunting his senses. It smelt deep of his dad’s, the scent that used to comfort him now was haunting him.
“You boys need to take a baf’ when we get on main, but for now you can just use the rag and buckut,” he stated matter-of-factly, his accent thick. When the officer left, he saw a little boy follow him, seemingly attached by the hip.
The littluns had been crying to the Navy officers since they got on the ship, whining about how the fire wasn’t their fault, not caring that the officers didn’t care about them in the first place. The officers had been reluctant to let them all aboard the ship, probably not wanting to babysit. Ralph thought about how selfish they were but he would never voice his complaints.
On the other side of the room were Jack, Roger, and Maurice. Maurice seemed to be in a state of shock, similar to Ralph. Roger was blank-faced; it was like seeing someone finally crack in a mental institution. Ralph thought he belonged in one of those places. Ralph turned to Jack to see what he was doing but he jumped out of his illusion when he saw Jack looking straight at him. He looked so vulnerable at that moment, so childlike. Ralph thought that was a stupid thing to say because they were all children, but he never saw them in that light, especially not with their painted faces and bodies. Jack's eyes had red around them, with dirt on his cheeks. He looked like he was about to cry.
Ralph didn’t like the idea of that. No matter what happened on the island.
Ralph and Jack stared at each other for what seemed like forever, both of them seemingly on the edge of tears. Both of them refused to let them fall. They stared at each other until they were all ushered into a room with a few blankets and pillows on the ground. Not nearly enough for all of the boys in the room. The boys started to settle down in the room, with Ralph taking up in a corner. Ralph grabbed one blanket and decided that he should leave the rest for the others. While making himself comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be on a hard floor, he noticed a littlun in front of him.
“May I sleep next to you?” the little boy whined to him. Usually, he would have probably told the small one to go find a different corner, but before he could speak his mind, another voice spoke up.
“Me too. I’m scared of the other boys,” whispered another little one.
Before Ralph could even say anything, there was a litter of littluns on and around him. There was one lying on his lap, two leaning on his shoulder, another at his feet, and every littlun there was, he thinks, lying around him. He felt overcrowded, overheated, overwhelmed, over-everything. But he didn’t mind it as much as he thought; he knew he couldn’t go to sleep like this, though. He ruffled his hand in a littluns hair and rubbed circles into the back of another. He thought that if anyone on the ship should have a good night, it should be the little boys all around him.
During the night, Ralph was too distracted by a little boy to his right having a nightmare, to notice the body standing in front of him. He was soothing the little boy when the other spoke up.
“The little ones really seem to like you. Do you mind if I join you with them? I won’t wake ‘em up,” the boy muttered. Ralph didn’t have to look up to know the boy who was standing in front of him. Jack Merridew. His voice was shaky and sounded hoarse.
Ralph picked up the little boy next to him and cradled him in his arms, just looking at how peaceful his face was in slumber. Coincidentally, making room for Jack to sit next to him. Jack took the invitation and sat next to Ralph, careful to not wake any littlun near him. Fully sitting down, Ralph realized how big Jack was to him. His head hardly made it to his shoulder. Their thighs and shoulders were touching, with how close they were both squeezed together in the tight corner. He could hear Jack's heartbeat in his chest and his ragged breaths. Ralph looked down at the littlun in his arms—he thinks he remembers his name being Percival—and brushed the hair from his face. The kids' eyelashes were long and light, fluttering at the touch.
Ralph slumped against Jack’s arm and put his head on his shoulder. Eyes never once leaving Percival’s face.
“I forgive you. Just thought you should know that,” he purred out while covering another little boy with a blanket. Jack's heart got stuck in his throat when he heard the simple words.
Jack murmured out a why so quietly that Ralph almost mistook it for a breath. Ralph opened his mouth to answer but then snapped it back shut to really muse on the question.
Ralph finally opened his mouth and kept it open this time, “We are children. Young, innocent, scared, we don’t understand the consequences of most of our actions.” Jack looked at him like he spouted Shakespeare, like he just told him the answer to life itself. Jack was shocked how mature Ralph was for them being the same age. All while Ralph didn’t even give him a second glance, being too occupied with the littluns surrounding him.
Jack admired Ralph like that for the whole night, Ralph tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on him but the fervid stare was remorseless. Especially with it being on the back of his head all night.
At the mark of the sun rising, painting the room with its bright yellows and oranges being reflected off the sea outside their windows, others started to wake up. The littluns started running around one–by–one as they woke up and the older boys started talking with each other as if they were coming back from their field trip across the ocean. Ralph thinks back to what Piggy said about the plane, about how someone bombed it. Then he thinks back to when Piggy said that he heard over the intercom that they also bombed the airport where their parents were. Where his dad was.
His mind started to race, mind full of thoughts of his dad. There’s no way that his dad was still in the airport when the bomb hit, right? He started to anxiously shake his leg, his brain computing the thought and spitting out the same answer.
Little Percival on his lap started to mewl out at the movement. Ralph stopped when he saw a yawn come out of his mouth, slowly rocking him back into slumber.
“You know you can wake him, right?” Jack blurted, “It’s late enough for him.” Ralph finally looked him in the eyes, craning his neck from his spot on Jack’s shoulder.
“Let him sleep. If we feel like this image of how someone his age feels,” Ralph croaked as he nuzzled back into Jack shoulder. Jack’s voice helped dampen Ralph’s thoughts of death but it was still burning the back of his head.
“Wake up, everyone! Breakfast, and news about your families!" An officer barked at them in the room, making everyone jump out of their skin. It was a miracle—Ralph thought—that Percival didn’t wake up. He pulled slightly at the tone and volume of the voice, but Ralph was able to lull him back to sleep. Jack got up when he was free of the weight on his shoulder and put out a hand for Ralph to grab.
“C’mere,” Jack rasped with a cocky smile that Ralph knew from the island. Ralph frowned at the memory, getting up by himself. Jack sulked. Ralph followed the rest of the boys to the canteen, with Percival in his arms and a puppy of a Jack following close behind him. Roger and a few boys who were on Castle Rock, looking at Ralph and Jack with bewilderment. Their savage chief boiled down to something akin to a dog. Ralph felt pleased with the look on their faces. Finding a seat in the corner of the room Ralph sat down with Percival somehow still in deep sleep with the noise of people speaking around. Jack sat next to him, looking very content with the privacy of the seat.
Ralph didn’t know when the officers started talking, but he did notice when Jack put his hand on the small of his back. He felt his hand shake and restrained himself from digging his hand in his waist from unbearable gripping. Ralph looked up to see the reason behind his anguish. Seeing Roger, Maurice, and Bill across from him, he now understood why the boy next to him was frustrated. But god was he hypocritical. Acting like he wasn’t the one to hurt him the most.
The boys started to get up in line to grab food. Ralph was not hungry but he was sure that Percival would be when he woke up. He ordered Jack to go get something for the small thing in his arms. Jack immediately yielded to Ralph and obeyed his request. Leaving Ralph and Percival with the boys.
“Why was Jack sleeping next to you last night?” Bill asked in a fake, sincere voice.
“Better yet, why was Jack sitting next to you? He’s been following you around!” Maurice whispered-yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Ralph.
Just at that moment, a soldier came up behind him, “You need to wake up that boy in your arms, it is far too late for him to be even sleepy!” Ralph didn’t even have to wake Percival because the man's voice was just enough to do it. Ralph felt overwhelmed with the finger still in his face, the loud question bouncing around his head to answer; Percival weeping in his arms.
“Let him be,” said a voice with surprising tranquility. Ralph knew it was Jack, so there was no need to look at him as he calmed Percival with the food that got put in front of him.
He noticed an extra tray next to Jack’s own, “I got you your own food,” Jack purred in a balmy voice. Ralph didn’t know what had gotten into him. Jack shot a glare that could kill the boy across from them as he fed Percival soup from a spoon. Ralph noticed that Roger didn’t say anything in the little scat they had and had just stared at him with that same look.
“If you hear your name, please raise your hand!” a soldier yelled as he started to list off names. Ralph hadn’t realized that he raised his hand until Percival in his lap did the same.
“I apologize to you all, but your parents were in the airport when they bombed it.” What would have surprised Ralph if he wasn’t about to start balling was the pacifying tone in the officer's voice.
Ralph's body lurched forward as his body stopped working.
Pa. His Pa.
His body jump-started as he began to comfort the boy in his arms. He felt himself get pulled close to Jack. He nestled closer to Jack, Percival entrapped betwixt the two, sniveling. Ralph put his hand on Jacks’ nape; Jack gripping his back; Percival shoving his face in their shirts to dampen his crying.
The canteen sounded on the island on the day they were rescued. Except this time, other children were comforting each other, whispering regrets and forgiveness; remorse and pardons; mercies and pity; alibis and indulgences.