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Ralph had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. Sitting in this tiny room, in these rather hard chairs, with people he hasn’t seen in what feels like forever, he wishes that he’d stayed home . The reminder of how much he’d be paid was the only thing that kept him on his seat. He was out of place here, with these boys— men —that almost killed him twenty years ago.
He wasn’t the only one who felt awkward, but he suspected that none of them really felt the same way, except perhaps Jack, and even that was questionable .
His eyes slid over to the man in question, who, Ralph was pleased to see (but only a little , of course), looked every bit as distressed as he did . He knew that Jack probably wasn’t the same person he was back then, but all the same, Ralph would be much happier if he didn’t have to speak to Jack ever again .
The door swung open, and a cheery man stepped into the room, making it even more cramped. His sunny yellow shirt was too bright, making Ralph’s eyes water.
“Good morning! My name is Carl, and I’m going to be your helper throughout the production of this documentary. Feel free to ask me any questions you have! You don’t have to be shy!”
He smiled, and Ralph wondered if he knew anything at all about the documentary, or the island, or them. The letter they’d all received told them what they really needed to know, and no one wanted to call attention to themselves by asking a question .
Carl’s smile faded away as he realized that he wouldn’t have to answer any questions, replaced by disappointment and mild confusion .
“All right, then!” He hurried away, leaving the disinterested group behind. Ralph wasn’t sure what he expected; they might not have told him exactly what happened on the island, but still. He had to have known something.
Ralph found his eyes drawn to Jack again, who was staring at the floor. Ralph scanned the room again, looking for any other familiar faces, and saw what might be the twins. What were their names again? Sam, one of them was called ? The other one might have been named Eric. They were definitely the only set of twins on the island, so it had to be them. Other than that, Ralph realized that he didn’t recognize any of the other men. And if Jack didn’t have red hair, would Ralph have known it was him?
Examining Jack’s face, Ralph decided that he would have. Jack didn’t seem to have undergone the extreme facial changes that the others had, if you excluded the stubble .
Even if there weren’t many physical changes, Jack probably became a better person; at least, Ralph hoped so. He still had nightmares of the island, but the worst of it left by the time he was twenty.
It was all in the past, Ralph reassured himself. Surely they wouldn’t want to kill him now. Then again, what did he know? He didn’t think they wanted to kill him back on the island. Ralph felt his breathing speed up, and forced himself to calm down, focusing his eyes on Jack once more.
Suddenly , Ralph wanted to know what happened to the other men. Were the memories as bad for them? What were they even doing here? He was desperate to know, to find out why they thought it was okay for them to profit off his horror story. He dragged his eyes off Jack, searching the others’ faces for anything that resembled guilt, and discovered that a few of them were looking at him. They quickly averted their eyes when they saw Ralph notice them. Ralph sighed. He should move on, even if the rest of them haven’t. They had enough regret.
And honestly, if I was in their place, I would have tried to kill me, too. Ralph shut his eyes, wishing once more that he stayed home. There were too many barriers here, unspoken boundaries that couldn’t be crossed. He was so tired of it all.
And it was only the first day.
Jack wanted to die. Actually, he wanted to be stabbed in the back 42 times, but that might be too specific for whatever higher power wanted to answer his prayer . Why did he expect Ralph to not show up? Was he hoping Ralph would be too scared?
It’s not that he hadn’t thought about Ralph, it’s more like Jack tried to push him away. He just somehow always managed to creep into Jack’s thoughts, unwanted, half-dead, and disappointed . Jack forced himself to relax. Their portion of the documentary was short , so the filming would last a few days, at most ; after that, he would never see Ralph again. Looking back on it, though, there were a plethora of bad things he’d done, not just to Ralph, but to the rest of them. That Roger kid was insane, but of the blame lay on Jack.. Apologizing would lessen their negativity towards him, and establish his role as the good guy once more .
It was also the right thing to do, Jack reminded himself. And maybe it would give him the closure he needed for him to finally move past this. It’d be like ripping off a bandage.
Jack inhaled once, exhaled once. He rose to his feet, checking his posture and stance (his father was big on the importance of body language), and opened his mouth to speak .
Sam shared an indignant look with his brother, as the man he once knew as Jack prattled on about forgiveness, mistakes, and some other bullshit . Who did he think he was? This entire ordeal would be awful enough without him trying to gain some sort of leadership position .
Everyone else looked at Jack with something akin to respect, but they seemed like they were used to this. They probably all had office jobs, where men who talked about things in loud voices were commonplace .
Sam thought of speaking up. Eric would join him if he did, but Jack was so much older than them. No one listened to young people; it didn’t help that Sam and Eric acted, instead of having a normal cubicle job.
The others didn’t know that, though. Not to mention that before Sam and Eric dropped out of law school, they were at the top of their class. They could argue their way out of any hole they dug themselves into, a trait of most leaders. Ralph looked disinterested, too, so their only competition was Jack, who wronged them all on the island . This could work out in their favor.
Sam stood, simpering.
Roger hated his cell. So what if he killed that guy? He deserved it; Roger’s bike wasn’t cheap, and the man drove his truck into it. And yeah, Roger was on probation before that, but everyone makes mistakes once in while.
Roger had some anger issues, but he was an okay person. It was everyone else’s fault.
Ralph stifled yet another laugh. This was, surprisingly , working out to be quite fun. The twins fought Jack with ardor, and when Jack tried to stand down, they wouldn’t let him. They yelled about equality now, somehow fitting it into their argument with ease. Their speech on oppression several minutes ago rivaled TED talks, even though they’d never been oppressed in their life. Everyone else looked horrified, but they weren’t important; they’d never been oppressed either . For that matter, Ralph had his share of privilege, too.
Another man stood, for no obvious reason. His suit looked expensive. Wearing a suit at all showed class; no one else in the room wore one.
He cleared his throat, and spoke in a measured, self-important voice:
“If only you all could move past this; it has been twenty years. Why, just the other day, I visited our old friend Roger, he got himself into a spot of trouble, but other than that he was doing fine—”
No one liked him; he was pretentious. His words still managed to stop them all, though, as everyone recalled the boy who tortured them, a boy worse than Jack.
Ralph spoke up this time, in a calm voice.
“What? What happened to him?” The other man didn’t acknowledge Ralph’s words, and sniffed at the air like he smelled a rotting carcass.
“Anyways, gentlemen, you should all move past this, we are all grown men, and British ones, too. Surely we can all sit without one of us stirring up some indecency”—he shuddered—“and just wait for them to ask us to do something .”
The pomposity of the man was too annoying for everyone, and they ignored him, except for Sam and Eric, who glowered at him for a few seconds .
Jack disliked the man’s irritating monologue as much as everyone else did, but didn’t want to bring attention to himself for fear of Sam and Eric shouting at him again . He couldn’t help but wonder what happened to Roger, though, and why he didn’t show up. Maybe he thought he’d be persecuted for his past sins, or something.
Jack’s other problems floated to the top of his head, and Jack’s focus abruptly changed to Ralph. Ralph had spoken only once this entire time (others hadn’t said anything at all, but their presence on the island was less…salient) . What was Ralph thinking about? Jack wanted to talk to him, to apologize for almost killing him, but the discomfort of such a conversation would be too much for him .
The door slammed shut as several people left; they didn’t want to endure the endless droning of the man any longer, and Jack couldn’t blame them . He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t leaving, too.
Actually, he did. Waiting for Sam or Eric to start yelling at the man (who was still talking) would pay off pretty well. Also, Ralph hadn’t left yet.
Eric was now ninety percent sure that Suit Guy hadn’t been on the island. Telling them to be proper? If Suit Guy’d been on the island, he wouldn’t dream of saying that, with what happened to Piggy.
That emphasis on the word ‘British’ every single time he said it made Eric wonder if Suit Guy was a white supremacist, because no one talked about how British they were that often . It was more than a little aggravating. Eric wanted to strangle Suit Guy more and more as the time passed.
As Suit Guy began rambling on gentrification and what a good thing it was, Eric decided enough was enough. He looked at Sam, who nodded slightly , and they both stood up. Everyone sat up a little straighter in their seats.
Instead of the fight they hoped for, Sam and Eric walked out the door, never looking back. The disappointment was palpable.
Ralph looked at Jack, and found that he was looking back. A sense of surrealness took over him. It was like déjà vu, but this was stronger, and uplifting. This was good; he knew that for a fact.
Jack grinned at him, not the hesitant, shy smile Ralph once saw on the island, or the frightening, evil one; this was pure, lighthearted .
It’s been twenty years, Ralph thought.
In a moment of perfect harmony, Ralph and Jack rose, and exited the room.
Henry realized that no one was listening to him a little too late. The room was mostly empty, and the only people left were all asleep. He sighed. Why was his generation so disappointing? They were all so shallow, and never talked about things that mattered.
He’d worn one of his best suits, too.