What is this?

Stalking more silently than a hunter,
Making a kill more regularly than Jack,
Though it hunts more than pigs,
Preys on the choir,
Grabs them with icy, needle sharp claws,
Long black fur hides it's face,
Where red eyes gleam,
Captured the littluns,
Moves through the trees with out a sound,
Crouches on the mountain,
Comes in the night,
When all is dark and the littluns whimper at the sight,
Attacked solitary Simon,
Disguised as the Lord,
Though he and Ralph broke free from the toils,
And ran to stay that way,
Steers clear of Piggy,
Followed Jack who made it his weapon,
More deadly than a spear,
What is this,
It is fear.

Shadows

Dancing in the evening air,
Caressing backs burdened with care,
Touching the hunters coming from the wood,
These shadows touch all, like good shadows should,
The boys on the island so dark and green,
The shadows touch even what to them is unseen,
The boy behind the curtain of vines,
He with the shadows sees the signs,
A collapse and the future fight,
A fight against the darkness and a fight for what's right,
Sees the glasses stolen from the true,
Evil on this island is something new,
The blameless's blood spilled on the floor,
And the reaper is knocking on the quiet boy's door.

Dance

The storm breaks over the island,
Thunder crashes,
Lightening falls like divine judgment,
The parachutist trembles on the mountain top,
Finally resting on the ground,
Simon crawls to tell the world,
The boys dance in sickening gyration,
Spears and claws,
Teeth flashing,
He emerges,
Shouting to be heard over the savage hiss of the fire,
The patter of the rain,
The boom of the thunder,
They turn and attack,
He struggles,
Fights,
But fails,
Tries to break free,
But is engulfed,
And the waves carry him and the parachutist away,
To rest at the bottom of the stormy,
Rolling ocean.

End

Lower the curtain of vines down,
Throw the skull into the seas,
Build up a funeral pyre on the mountain,
Let Simon drift in the waves,
Piggy sinks and lays on the bottom,
Lay his glasses on the mountain,
Where he tried so hard,
To keep the fire burning,
Raise a monument to the hunters,
And the fallen sow,
Lay Roger in a grave in the pig run,
While Ralph sails away,
Remembering the past,
And going on,
Past the Island's end.

Blog 12- Trial Preparation

For the trial of Jack Merridew I am playing the role of Maurice. Described as being "Second in height to Jack" among the Hunters, Maurice is one of the older boys.

Chapter 1 and 2: I arrive with Jack and the others and am one of 12 boys to vote for him as chief. I race up the mountain after Jack and try to build the fire.
Chapter 3 and 4: I go hunting with Jack but am sent back by him. I go back and play in the lagoon. I, along with fellow hunter, Roger, knock over the littluns' sand castles. I then wander off. I go hunting in the ring and am one of the ones to help catch and kill the pig. We come back and are confronted by Ralph. We cook the meat and eat it.
Chapter 5: I go to the meeting called by Ralph. He complains about our lack of order. Jack leaves and we all follow. Only Simon, Ralph and Piggy remain.
Chapter 6 and 7: Since we are scared of the beast we go out on a hunt for it. Ralph comes along this time. We play the pig game and it gets out of control. We go on. Jack and Ralph go ahead. We then follow and only grudgingly obey. We wait while Jack, Ralph and Roger go on. They rush down afraid.
Chapter 8 and 9: Jack calls a meeting that we all attend. When he is not voted to replace Ralph he goes off on him own. I later follow. He proclaims himself the new chief. We go hunting and kill a pig in a glade. Then Jack, Roger and Robert go and announce our party to the others. In this chapter the party occurs. The thunder and lightening begin after Piggy and Ralph arrive. We do our dance on the beach. Simon crawls out and we think he is the beast. We attack him. Something blows down past us into the ocean and we are terrified. WIth Roger and Jack I mount a surprise attck on the camp consisting of Ralph, Piggy and Samneric. We steal Piggy's glasses.
Chapter 10 and 11: The others come to our camp while Jack is out hunting. After confrontation Roger rolls a boulder down that kills Piggy. Samneric are tied up and made to join us. We go hunting for Ralph. We light a fire to flush him out of a thicket and light the whole island on fire. A ship appears and rescues us. Ralph says he is the leader. Jack tries to protect Roger and the rest of us and stays quiet. If he had spoken then Roger would have been in trouble. We leave with the officer.
His mentality during the trial is that Jack was his hero.

Requiem

The fire spreads along,
The island is burning,
Flames rise and lap the platform where meetings once were,
At the scar where all this began,
At the signal fire mountain where a signal once was,
Through the pig trails,
In the glade where she was killed,
Castle Rock where Piggy fell,
Waves lap at the death rock,
Reflect the orange in the calm lagoon,
A lullaby for the dead,
Twisting shapes like those of the fallen,
Burning creepers near the living,
Smoke rises,
Clouds the skies,
That let down rain when he died,
Clouds where the conch's shattered fragments lay,
Over the broken skull,
That spoke to Simon,
And no one lives on the Island,
Only the ghosts of the dead.

Blog 11-Island of the Boys-Naval Officer's Journal

A plume of smoke rises from a distant speck. Checking the charts we realize that there is an island there.
"Head for the smoke!" The captain commands. "Full speed ahead!" The ship sails through the waters. Briskly heading for the island. The ship draws near a small lagoon. The captain pulls me aside.
"Officer, you take three others and go in the little boat. We'll wait here. Alright?"
"Yes sir." I respond. I snap my fingers and three of the sailors snap to attention and follow me. We get in the little boat that is lowered down into the water. The crew rows toward the lagoon. From all over the island smoke rises and smothers. There is a small faint ululation coming from the island. It ends in a scream that chokes and gurgles. We pull into the lagoon and I hop out onto the beach. There are signs of some sort of society. There are some huts and a meeting ground but there is no one in sight but a few little boys. Suddenly a single boy staggers out onto the beach. He has a gash on his stomach and is holding a spear. His eyes look hunted. Moments later about 10 other boys rush from the wood. When they see the other boy they react toward him. Then they see that I am here and stand still in what appears to be respectful awe. They have wide and disbelieving eyes.
"What happened here?" I address the whole assembly. The newer group are adorned with paint and next to naked. The boys look uncertain. "Are you English boys?" The one who came first nods. "Who was in charge here?" A little boy of about 12 carrying a broken pair of specs with red hair and the remains of a choirboy's cap steps forward then glances around and steps back. The blonde boy steps forward. I eye him thoughtfully. There must have been a fight for leadership that ended so badly. This boy must have fought the savagery around him. His injuries and the fact that he is not painted mean that he is not one of the group. He must have become a renegade.
"I was. This is my fault." He is a brave boy. He seems to absorb the disaster around him and visualize what has transpired here.
"What are your names?" I ask. I turn rapidly to a little one near me. He cowers. I am confused by his timidity.
"My name is. My name is..." He trails off. I urge him to elaborate. He can't seem to even remember his name.
"I thought that English boys should have done better." I say. The blonde leader looks sad. He gazes around him.
"We didn't first, then," He too trails off.
"Are there any bodies?" I inquire.
"Only two, and those were swept out to sea." I shudder. I lead the boys to the boat where my men are looking curiously at the scorched, naked savages that once were demure schoolboys. Suddenly the blond boy looks back at the island. I hear him murmur the word Piggy. He is sobbing as I lead him gently into the boat. Great heaving sobs. When we have gotten them comfortable then I will ask him what happened. Find out the true story of the Island of the Boys.

Into one

Pink and white,
Smooth and faintly clear,
Shimmering,
Leadership and life,
Freedom from tyranny,
Equality,
Huts on the sandy beach,
To keep the beast at bay,
To keep the fire burning,
In hearts weary from trying to stay alive,
A shrill piercing blast,
Yet a healing one,
Pulling on the loose threads and making them into one,
A community,
A family,
Hunter or hut builder,
Littlun or fire maintainer,
One and the same.

Essay 3- The beast on the mountain

In the story the boys claim to see a beast on the mountain next to the signal fire. This "beast" is really only a dead parachutist who fell down from the sky like a symbol of their link to the adult world that has snapped.
First Samneric, the twins who were on duty, see it near the fire when they awake from sleeping on the job. Then Ralph, Roger, and Jack go up the mountain to see for themselves. Jack goes ahead and claims to see the beast. Then, slightly disbelieving, Ralph and Roger go up with Jack to see. They then see it. Ralph describes it as "a great ape".
The number of times that people see this "beast" symbolize the amount that they are tempted by the real beast, inside themselves. First it is seen by Samneric who are in the end, tempted by the beast and the terrors of Roger. Then Jack sees it. He completely gives in to the inner beast and becomes a savage.
Roger sees it and he gives in. Ralph is slightly tempted by the monster and sees it once with Jack. Jack sees it twice. The fact that Ralph sees it with Jack shows that Jack is the beast.
Piggy and Simon, the two who represent goodness never see or believe in the beast and are killed almost for that.
The three boys who go to try to see go up the mountain in the dark. Had they gone up during the light then they would have seen that it was no monster but a dead person. They would not have spread the claims of the beast and would have banished the beast from the minds of the boys. Had they done so then Jack would not have had the edge of fear to hold over his tribe. If he was unable to terrify them as much and he could not form a religion of beast worshiping than his power would have been less absolute. Instead of a failed society that had become a murderous pack led by a tyrannical "god-figure" they might have kept together. The fact that they went up in the dark symbolizes ignorance leading to fear since the beast is a symbol for fears. Had they gone up in the light, educated and ready, prepared and open minded, they would have dispelled these irrational fears and saved their world. They could have remained in the Garden of Eden with out Original Sin, the murder of the Sow stemming from Jack's fear based regime.

A Place Apart

Trees and vines protect,
Harbor,
Shelter,
A mat of leaves,
Butterflies dance lazily,
In oblivious joy,
A boy watches from behind a log,
Dark eyes dreamy,
Eyes unfocused,
No sound but the crashing of waves on the shore,
Green,
Pure,
Free from Jack and his hunters,
From killing,
A place apart,
Calming,
Soothing,
Freed from sin,
When tempers flared,
He crept quietly away,
To the place in the trees,
No beast here,
No fading morality,
No sinister shapes,
Just a boy,
And his quiet daydreams,
And the silent wood,
A place apart.

Essay 2- Piggy's Other Look

Piggy, the science loving, geeky boy who provides rationality and logic to the group, is a very important character. He is clear-headed, kind-hearted and with only good intentions. In the book he comes to represent the Superego, the part of everyone that follows the rules and is the better part of us. His demise is at the moment in the book where civilization is officially at an end. Ralph, the democratic leader, is on the run, Roger, the cruelty loving, silent hunter is second in command, Simon, the kind, unselfish, truth-seeking boy has been ritually murdered and Jack, the tyrannical, embodiment of the Id is in charge and is worshiped like a god.
Piggy's other look-
Piggy is not an athletic character. His strength is in his mind and not in his body. He is overweight, wears glasses (though this turns out to be a plus,) and has asthma. Also his distant way of talking alienate him from the other boys. Yet Piggy had much to say if any of them chose to listen. Almost all of Ralph's good ideas were Piggy's. As the embodiment of the Superego, Piggy would have prevented the group from spiraling into chaos. If only they had listened. One of the main factors that prevent them from listening is his difference. Had Piggy been slim, athletic and not asthmatic he would have been more socially acceptable. Had this character been socially accepted then the other boys would have been more likely to listen to his wisdom. Had they listened to him they would have seen the errors in Jack's ideas and seen how they led to a collapse and savagery. If Jack's monomania of obsessively seeking after pigs was checked and corrected, if the fears of the beast were dispelled by Piggy's clear logic then the boys would have kept the signal fire alive. They would have kept together as a group and all been rescued instead of a few. The story would have been very different.

The Chase

Silence around,
The dancing shadows slumber,
The leaves are still,
No wind,
The boy creeps forward,
Silent,
On hands and knees,
Stalking,
The pig ambles on,
Innocent,
Unaware,
She can't see,
Him behind,
On the beach a roof is raised,
Something built for a life soon ended,
A boy splashes in the lagoon's clear water,
Glasses flash with knowledge,
And in the jungle he hunts,
Opaque eyes,
Red hair,
Shadows pattern his back,
He slides forward,
And prepares to,
Make a kill,
The boy at the hut freezes,
His dark eyes widen,
A dreamer's mind,
He knows,
Though does not know what he knows,
The chase is on.

Blog 10- Shattered-Samneric's Journal

We get up the next morning to try and see if by some merciful chance the fire is still burning slightly. Any way to keep it alive. Ralph kneels by ashes and blows. Piggy blindly grips our arm. He tries to squint through the haze that is all he sees since his specs were taken. The fire is out. Completely. Ralph blows until the wind makes a mockery of him, a sad parody and blows the ashes in his face. He coughs and wipes his streaming eyes. The ashes swirl away into the lagoon.
“Its out. What are we to do?” he says. Piggy looks up and locates Ralph from his voice.
“We got to go and get my specs back. I can't hardly see without them.” We tremble. The base where Jack is must be well secured. Ralph nods.
“But how?” Piggy has an idea.
“Call a meeting.”
“For us?”
“Yes, call it Ralph.” Obediently he goes over and raises the beautiful shell to his lips. He blows loud and clear. We all gather. Us, Piggy, who we helpfully lead over, and three littluns. Ralph hands to conch to Piggy who receives it gropingly.
“We got to go and get my specs. What Jack did was wrong. He came and stole them. I'm going to go to him and tell him. I’ll say he's stronger, he's got the tribe on his side and I'm just Piggy. He's got both his eyes and I'm mostly blind. But I’ll tell him this. He has to give me my specs back, not to be nice but since its what's right. I’ll fight him with words. Just words.” There is a new respect in Ralph’s eyes. He is appreciating Piggy’s true worth. We notice it too. Notice how Piggy, fat and blind and asthmatic is the one who seems to be able to see clearly. Notice how Ralph is tired to the bone and desperate to do something.
We discuss our plan. Then we go to get food to eat before we go on our campaign. We lead Piggy over to the decimated fruit trees and he feeds. We fill already butterfly filled bellies with food. Then in a foursome, Ralph in the lead then us guiding Piggy. In his fat hands is the shining conch, our symbol. The way we built our group. We are bringing it as a call to decency. The sands shift under our feet. We exchange glances but few words. When we could be marching to our graves there is no need to talk. To gather strength we let our weary eyes rest on the fragile, white shell.
The rock looms ahead of us. No one was surprised to see that the hunters have moved camp. Jack would want to erase memories of the murder of two nights ago. The pink rock is austere, forbidding. The tribe is up there. A mass of green and white and black. The paint that liberates them from shame. Freed from this they stare down easily at us. We tremble but Ralph stands his ground. It is a frightening spot, the one where we stand. The raging sea laps hungrily at the rock below us and one false step could be the difference between life and death. We huddle closer together and look up at the savages above. Piggy, afraid kneels down. Ralph blows the conch. A voice rings out. It is Roger's voice but not his face. It is the face of a savage. The British Roger has died and this is what he left behind.
“Who goes there?” Ralph is annoyed. The hunters are just boys playing at being soldiers. This challenge shows their childishness. Roger has one hand on some sort of log.
“You know who I am.” He calls back. “Where's Jack?”
“Hunting. He said not to let you in.” Cries the voice of Robert.
“We came for Piggy’s glasses.” Responds Ralph. “We want them back.”
“What do you want?” says a voice. We wheel round. Its Jack. We are trapped. To one direction is the tribe, on two is the sea, jumping would be suicide and on the other are Jack and two hunters. They put down the corpse they were carrying. Suddenly a stone whirs past us. We jump. Almost fall. Regain balance. Roger looks down as if on a hapless insect he were about to squash. Like a judgmental god. We shudder and look away.
“You stole Piggy’s glasses. He needs them. Give them back, thief.” Ralph says loudly. Jack tenses.
“What did you say?” he says in anger.
“Thief! You bloody thief.” Ralph yells. Jack lunges. He strikes out with his spear at Ralph who parries and returns to the blow. The fierce anger with which they attack with is staggering. They thrust and struggle. Now the positions are reversed. Jack stand with his back to the savages and Ralph with his back to the Island. Piggy shrilly calls out.
“Ralph.” He stands. The excited cheering for the fight stops. It becomes a boo. Piggy holds the conch so it sparkles in the sun. “I've got the conch.” A murmur passes through the crowd then dies on throats. He starts talking. “What are you going to do? You aren’t trying to be rescued. What if a ship comes? How long do you want to be here, until you die?” the boys murmur. Roger puts one hand down for more rocks. “I want my specs back. I can't see without them and it’s the decent thing to do. Don’t you want to be decent, to be rescued?” Another swell of talk goes through them. “This is the right thing to do. Do it for Simon who you murdered, for the littlun with the birthmark who was killed through carelessness. Their blood is on your hands. Do you want my blood also?” Jack is looking at Piggy calculatingly. He cries to his savages and they move closer.
“Tie them up.” He points to us. The tribe moves and shuffles. “Tie them up!” They move faster. With the same obedience that led to Simon’s death they feel our difference and become excited.
“I say-“
“-Let go.” They pay no attention. It only serves to whet their appetites. We lay, trussed. Looking up at Ralph and Jack and Piggy from between the feet of the tribe. We can see the foreign faces that once were the faces of our friends. Now they are our foes and to them we are like the desperate, helpless pigs they hunt.
“They obey me now.” Jack says proudly. Ralph’s temper which we could feel growing, snaps.
He screams at Jack, hidden behind his hair and paint.
“You, you.” He lunges toward us. Jack strikes at him. Ralph blocks. The fight is fiercer than before. We feel the ropes cutting into us. The fear of savagery rises in us. Ralph and Jack keep fighting, spinning, vicious blows. Piggy stands up. There is courage in him. He calls above the crowd.
“The conch!” Jack and Ralph spring apart. “I got the conch.” His voice echoes. “We need the conch! If we don’t work as a democracy then we’re all done for. Don’t you remember? Home? School? England?” the boys look uncertain. "Do you remember lighting the fire as a signal? You don't have a signal fire now. You cook your meat and then you eat it. You put the fire out and hope dies. You will never be rescued this way." Jack lets out his breath in a hiss. Roger strains with all his weight on the lever. The boulder rolls down. Ralph dodges. Piggy is struck and falls. He has no time to react. The thing bowls him over the side and smashes him onto the rocks far below. The conch is shattered. Star shaped pieces go flying in all directions. We can't see him from the ground. Another wave hits the rocks below. We look at Ralph’s face. There is fury rapidly taking control.
“What did you do?”
“Seize him!” As the tribe springs forward Ralph moves at Jack. Jack strikes him across the ribs with the spear. The tribe gets closer and Ralph races off with some of the tribe in pursuit. Jack calls a halt and stands over us. His eyes are angry.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing, we-“
“-Don’t know anything.” He prods us with his spear. We squeal. He senses it is going no where. From behind him Roger slips forward silently like a sinister shadow.
“Let me take over, chief.” He says. There is a light in his eyes. He smiles cruelly as he steps to a position above us. Our scream rings out over the water where somewhere Simon and Piggy’s murdered bodies lay, at the bottom of the clear, cold sea.

Paradise Defiled

Crashing down,
Like a bird for a landing,
A landing gone horribly wrong,
Silver wings riddled with bullet holes,
Fire twining from the sides,
Shattered glass,
Frightened faces,
Crashes,
And tears a fearsome scar into the jungle,
Wild and free,
A paradise defiled,
Corrupted,
They scatter,
Split,
A blast slices the sky,
The calling of the conch,
Like a skillful tailor's thread,
It binds the torn into one once more,
A leader from the ashes,
Huts on the shore,
Built by all,
By five,
By two,
He hunts,
Like a tiger in a far off jungle,
Taints the woods with innocent blood,
Runs unchecked,
The fire spreads,
Consumes,
Fears come in it's wake,
Nightmares,
The beast hunts it's prey,
It splinters,
A crack,
The tailor can't mend,
And Sin creeps into paradise.

Blog 9-After-Piggy's Journal

The morning light shines bright and clear. We spent the night shuddering and trying to come to terms with what happened last night. The word "Murder" echoes in my head again and again. Auntie always said that murderers where always caught. Ralph stirs beside me. He opens an eye. There is a cut on his face. He was there last night too. Now both of us are too ashamed to acknowledge what we know. He turns to me.
"Piggy?" I turn an inquisitive eye toward him. "What should we do? I mean, about Simon?" I stifle a feeling of guilt.
"What about him?" he looks pained. The guilt of what we did to the shy, quiet boy called Simon makes both of us awkward.
"You know, we murdered him." He pauses.
"Don't talk like that." I gesticulate wildly. "He brought it on himself. Coming like that out of the woods. Crawling. He was batty, bonkers." He looks almost reassured. But not fully. "I was only on the outside. The lightening, the rain, the thunder. We were scared." He looks blank and uncertain. There is a haunted, hunted look in his eyes.
"I don't know what I was." He laughs harshly. "What are we going to do?"
"Call a meeting?" I suggest. He chuckles in harsh amusement.
"And the mob would listen? Not on my life." I feel something in me reject his depression.
"You're still chief." His laughter gets louder. "Over us, I mean."
"And who is us?" He asks, stifling his bitter laughter.
"There's me, and some littluns."
"No one else?"
"Oh, Samneric." He sighs regretfully.
"How can we keep a fire going with so few people?" Just then Samneric come out of the wood carrying a big log for the fire. It is huge and draped with snapped creepers. They greet us cheerfully.
“Hello, we were just-“
“-Getting wood for the fire.” We nod; glad that at least some of the boys are still loyal.
“How are you?” They ask Ralph. He answers uncertainly.
"I don't really know." Eventually the conversation goes back to last night. The heat, the smothering heat feels like it still upon me. The way the phosphorescent animals surrounded Simon’s head like a halo lingers. It forces it's way into my conscious mind as a murmur of regret and shame.
The twins bear the obvious marks of having been at the dance yet they say that they left early. I understand. The dance isn’t the kind of thing that you want to admit even to yourself. I almost managed to convince myself that Ralph and I left the sinister party early before the dancing had begun. We keep working on the fire. Ralph hedges and avoids the subject of Simon whenever possible. I humor him and leave it out of the usual conversation loop. Guilt still washes over me in sickening waves. Simon, screaming and trying to defend himself from the pack. A pack that all of us were a part of. Even me, and Ralph.
Something in Ralph seems to have died last night. As we struggle to build up the fire I can see that he is starting to lose hope. If we lose Ralph there is no way to survive. If he goes to Jack then we have no one to protect us from the horrors of Jack’s godlike wrath. He has become an idol. He, for one, is beyond saving. Too far gone to be shown a reasonable way to live. After so much hard work I feel the twins beginning to cave in. They need rest and I can't do enough because of my asthma. Sam lays down.
“Why do we even got to keep the fire going? What's the good?” he complains. Ralph and I look and feel indignation.
“Sam! We need the fire to be rescued!” Ralph says firmly. Eric sits down next to his twin.
“Sam’s right. What is the point at all?” Ralph backs up his claims but his words are weak. Even to himself I think he knows that the island is winning. We allow the fire to go out for the night. I dream of home an school. Places where there is order and method and no Jack Merridew trying to kill a pig. The relief would be so immense. That’s all I want. Just a rest and to be home at last. Home and off this island. The stars shine through the cracks in the roof of leaves. Suddenly, a noise is heard outside. I sense Ralph's fear of it possibly being the beast. But the beast isn't real. It is only a part of our imagination. Ralph sits up. The noise comes again.
“Piggy, come out.” The voice says. Ralph shakily suggests the beast. The voice continues. Slowly, Ralph and I exit the hut. As we do so I have an asthma attack. I collapse panting. I wheeze and cough. I hear the sounds of a battle erupt all around. Ralph yelps in pain. Sam whimpers. Eric swears. And I hear footsteps coming toward me. I see the faint shape of Jack above me. He smiles maliciously. He reaches a hand down to my face and snatches my glasses off my nose. Then he disappears. I see the ghostly forms of Roger and Maurice. They go off. I can barely see beyond the end of my nose. With out my glasses I am almost as blind as a bat.
Ralph and Samneric come out. Eric has a bloody face, Sam is frightened and self-conscious. Ralph is walking strangely. From what they say it sounds like a stealth attack. They must have come suddenly. As they did they must have hoped to lure me out. Then they snatched my glasses and left. Leaving Ralph and Samneric to fight each other without knowing it. I don’t tell them this. As we look out after the retreating figures of the thieves I feel order slipping. They melt into the shadows at the edge of my limited vision.

Ignited

The sun shines,
Bright,
Scorches the bare skin of the boys,
Salty and tired,
They rush,
Busy like the ants,
Gathering,
A pile grows,
A deadened forest,
The sun shines,
Bright,
Shines through the glasses outstretched,
Bright spots on the lenses,
Smoke,
Where there's smoke there's fire,
It grows,
Grasping for food,
The sun shines,
Bright,
It gets bigger,
Feeding on hopes,
A barrier against the coming dark,
With in all,
A race,
Against time,
Against the all consuming flames,
Now ignited,
Ignited,
Like rockets they spread,
Searching,
It twines,
Like vines,
Like life,
All around,
The island burns,
A two edged sword,
The sun shines,
Bright,
On the,
Fire,
Now, suddenly,
Ignited.

Blog 8- The Fear Realized-Simon's Journal

The thing in front of me spoke. Covered in flies and blood that trickled down from it's gaping mouth it was a horrible thing. Transfixed on a stick rammed into the hard ground it hung before me. "Foolish child." It said mockingly. "Run along and play with the others. I'm the beast." It leered at me. "Imagining the beast was something you could hunt or kill." It laughed, a ringing, terrible laugh. The leaves shuddered and trembled. I responded tremulously that I didn't understand. "Go on. Leave." It responded. "You're afraid, aren't you, boy?" I tremble. "You should go back. You don't want them to think that you're batty. They do, you know. I'll do you if you don't go. See, the beast is me. Be afraid, but you already are. Cowardly little boy."
I twitch in fear again. He goes on. "Go play with the others. Or I'll do you in. Go, run. And I'll forget this happened. If you don't run now, you don't want to know what will happen to you." He opens his mouth. I see the others within it. Ralph, Jack, Roger, all of them are in his mouth. I step back but his mouth keeps growing and growing. Either it is growing or I am growing smaller. The blackness is causing corruption all around me. It distorts the trees into sinister shadows. I feel fear consuming me. That must be what the beast is. Fear itself. The blackness makes me apart of it. Suddenly the blackness is in my head. I can feel one of my fits coming on. My condition makes me different and prefer being alone. The way that I tend to hallucinate has always made people look at me strangely.
As I lay, unconscious, I feel blood pour from my nose. It drags me painfully back into consciousness. I wake up again. Carefully, I wipe my nose with my hand. There is blood now all over my arm as well. I turn toward the head. It is still there, unspeaking. The realization I had while I was conversing with the monster is still with me. The beast is fear, the embodiment or our fear for the unknown. If this is true then the thing that they saw on the mountain is not the beast. The real beast is inside each of our hearts in the darkest place. I decide to stumble up the mountain to see what they must have seen.
I adopt a philosophical attitude. If there really is a beast up there, no, there can't be a beast. But if there was then I would die in the pursuit of knowledge. I stagger up the mountain moving blindly through the forest. My sense of direction is bad. I almost blunder into trees along the way but manage to avoid a collision. The mountain looms before me. The sky shines brassily overhead in a forbidding way. The clouds are gathering in grim battle formation. There will be a storm tonight. As I maneuver up I comfort myself with the realization that there is no beast. I stumble over a log. There are the marks of a stick on it. I tell myself that the marks look nothing like claw marks. The top of the mountain is before me all too soon. Something sits up on the top. Something with a human form. A speck of blue against the cloud is behind the figure. I move closer to investigate. As I do I am almost sick there and then. It is the form of a man. There is a parachute strapped to his back and it is tangled around the rocks. As the wind blows the parachute inflates and pulls the figure upright. A cloud of flies adorn this body like they do the Lord of the Flies. I am actually taken sick at this point. The beast and monster that we had envisioned was only the poor corpse of a man that couldn't rest. I grab the lines with my hands and master my revulsion. I tug and pull them free. The figure slumps again. Now he can rest and rot in peace without being blown up and down. I realize the reason that Ralph believed in this monster. He went up during the night when it was dark. He saw this fearful shape squatting by the fire like a symbol of extinguished hope when it was dark with his own ignorance and fear. I am looking at it in the light of knowledge. I was ready to die and wasn't afraid. Since I was able to look at it this way I could see what it truly is. I must tell the other boys. They must know the truth so they aren't afraid anymore. I look down the mountain. The fire near the platform is gone or out and now there is a fire near Castle Rock. They must have moved camp away from the beast. I heard a call to meeting a while ago but something wasn't right about it. The conch sounded badly blown. Ralph must be nervous. That must be why he is biting his nails. But he will be saved. If any of us get off here alive Ralph will be one of them. I am not as sure about myself. I am completely sure of this even though I don't know why. I try to walk down the mountain but to my surprise my legs aren't working so well. They quake and twitch. My legs buckle. Instead of a run to sooner end the fear I can only manage a crawl. My own nervous fears must have made me tired.
Navigating through the trees I feel strangely calm. I can tell that once the boys know about this then they will cease to be afraid. It will help Ralph deal with Jack. Piggy will make it clear to the littluns. I don't think that Piggy ever really believed in the beast. I think he steadfastly held top his beliefs in the falseness of the monster. He is wise, Piggy is. I put thoughts out of my mind and look up at the darkened sky. The air is as tense as the skin of a drum. It is filled with tension. The clouds let loose the thunder and lightening. A blue bolt crashes from the sky, a jagged, frightening scar across the inky blackness. A little rain begins. I hear a scream and a rhythmic chanting. Jack and his hunters are here as well.
"Kill the beast, Cut his throat, Spill his blood." It goes on and on. This madness must stop. I hurry even more. When I stop it then no one will think of abandoning the conch. That is what allows the beast to get them. It doesn't lurk in the forest it lurks in their hearts. Jack is standing right on the edge. Tonight will decide it. He will have to see and take a few steps back. I hope. Someone screams even louder as I stumble from the forest. They yell.
"It's the beast!" The nonsense must stop now. I cry out also.
"The beast isn't real. It was a dead man on the hill, a dead parachutist!" The circle surges. Moves. Wraps around me. I can see war paint. I realize with horror that it is too late. I keep trying though. Another strip of lightening comes down. I see Jack illuminated ghoulishly in the glare. He yells.
"It's the beast! Kill it." I keep screaming for my life as the boys close tighter. The pack. I have seen dog fights, wild , savage. The pack jumps whoever loses. Except these boys make them seem civilized. They jump on me now, still chanting. The abominable rhythm goes on and on. The boys attack fiercely, with teeth and claws and spears. I see Piggy and Ralph at the back of the circle. I break free, bleeding from 10 different places and stagger down the beach. I topple like a child's toy over a small cliff. As one the pack surges down. The last thing I know I see Jack's painted, savage figure over me with a flashing knife in which the lightening is reflected and I feel the ocean waves at my back and the sand beneath me. The world zooms back like a tunnel as the water laps at me.

The Beast

He squats,
Huddled by the dying fire,
Parachute flapping,
Dead eyes staring,
A dead face looking down the mountain,
A dead body being pulled at by the wind,
A broken link to a world far away,
Snapped,
Severed,
The boys come up the mountain,
On guard,
Looking for the monster,
The monster unreal,
Inside,
Three becomes one,
He continues,
Openly cocky yet inwardly afraid,
The others wait in dread silence,
He sees,
Stares into blank eyes,
And, through the darkness of ignorance and blind fear,
Creates a beast from the once person,
The others follow,
Imagine,
Race down after,
To spread the word of an unreal monster,
Who is tugged and roughened,
By the shifting,
Sea winds.

Essay 1-If there was a girl on the Island

In the book a plane carrying a group of schoolboys ranging in ages from 5 or 6 to 12 is shot down. They land on the island. The pilot is killed and the boys are alone. They begin with a democracy but conflicting interests and fears cause it to collapse.
A Single Girl-
A girl on the island probably would have been a beneficial thing. A girl would have been more likely to be calmer and likely to become a central figure in the island politics. As a woman she would be likely to take the place of a mother to the Littluns and therefore keep them from the fears that lead them to abandon the conch. If this girl was an older girl she would be able to use her place as a mother to them to logically point out the best course of action. She would have provided a check since girls are less prone to the urges of Thanatos as displayed by Jack and Roger. She would have potentially realized Piggy's potential leading to a greater acceptance of the boy in question. Had that happened the group might not have failed.
The Pig-
The only female encountered on the island met a violent and gruesome end. Her demise was like a rape and murder. The possible trouble for the girl would be the chance that the boys could repeat the crimes. If her influence failed and she was unable to provide a voice of rationality the boys might turn on her and, filled with a combination of Thanatos and the Id, attack her. However, someone who could recognize Piggy, dispel the Littluns' fears and provide some morality would be beneficial.

More Symbols

There is religious symbolism in Lord of the Flies. Some claim that Simon comes to represent Jesus. The way he is willing to help the littuns and go back through the dark forest to help them shows his kind mentality. Also his meeting with the Lord of the Flies is like in the Bible how Jesus is in the wilderness when he is tested by the devil. In addition what happens to Simon is symbolic.

The stick sharpened at both ends is like the proverbial "double edged sword". It means danger from two places at once. It also shows that the very thing/people that help you, like Jack, can turn on you and hurt you. This will be shown later as this symbol becomes prominent.

One of the other examples of religious symbolism in The Lord of the Flies is the island. The island represents the Garden of Eden or Paradise. It is a perfect world where food is easy to get and plentiful. It is a perfect world until the boys come. The crash and the collapse represents Original Sin.
The Lord of the Flies is a symbol also. The Lord of the Flies is a pig's head that Jack left as a sacrifice to the Beast. The pig was murdered in a way similar to rape. The murder takes place in Simon's clearing, the clearing even more so than the island is symbolic of the Garden of Eden. The killing of an innocent is like Original Sin. While Simon is looking at the head he imagines it is talking to him. It is referred to as the Lord of the Flies because of the flies buzzing around it. The way Simon encounters it is like in the Bible where Jesus is in the wilderness and is tempted by the Devil. The Lord of the Flies is a symbol for the Devil. He reveals the truth to Simon leading to *****'* *****. The Lord of the Flies is also a symbol for how fear corrupts and changes.
The huts that the boys built on the beach are like a barometer for hope of rescue. In this they are like the Signal Fire. But the huts are also a symbol for caring for the weak and helpless since these would help the littluns. There are three huts. The first one was built by everyone, the second by about six people and the third was built by Ralph and Simon. The two who built the last hut are the two who are the most active in helping the littluns and this shows their compassion. The Chant
To read about the Chant go to zoelotf.blogspot.com


Piggy's Hair

There are many more symbols in this book. I might post about others later.

Blog 7-The Pig Game-Roger's Journal

The sun comes down through the trees. It touches us all with infinite hot fingers. Shadows fall around us. The thrill of covertly sneaking through the bushes toward our goal fills me. The dark leaves fall and lie, discarded on the ground like the way we have cast aside the old society. It was worth it. Jack, our total leader, has commanded us to do this. Ralph murmurs something to Jack and he raises a hand to stop us. We stop. Ralph and Jack tell us to stop and Jack bends down to examine the traces. I feel a surge of admiration for Jack. He is a powerful hunter and a very charismatic person. He wields his power with the same ease that he holds his spear. He beckons onward. Ralph says something of no consequence that Jack appears to hear. I am too far back for Ralph's sniveling to be audible to me. Jack nods and calls for us to gather fruit. We pull fruit off the branches. Stripping it from the twigs, we devour it. Jack is near Ralph. I can see Ralph looking distastefully around at us. Some thing in his eyes holds contempt for us. I snarl slightly to myself. He makes such a pathetic leader. We move onward. Roger shows Jack some other traces that he has found. Ralph's eyes look strangely unfocused. Suddenly with a crash something huge crashes from the bushes. It charges at us. Jack is in the front. Before he can react the beast-like thing has torn at his arm with it's tusks. Ralph stands his ground and throws at the creature. It strikes it in the snout. With a bellow the animal stops mauling Jack and thunders off through the forest. Ralph gloats his small victory. He insists.
"I hit it. I wounded it. My spear struck it and I hurt the beast." Even though he knows that there is no beast he likes the implications of having hurt it. Jack puts a stop to his nonsense.
"That was a boar and not the beast." Ralph still praises his victory.
"But I wounded it." Jack pulls up one of his sleeves. He turns his arm over.
"It got me. It came so fast I didn't have time to move my spear. One of it's tusks got my arm." The cut seemed shallow but bleeding furiously. Robert mock-charges at Jack in imitation. He blunders around the circle pretending to be the boar. Jack fakes a charge at him. Eventually everyone has joined in even that stick-in-the-mud, Ralph. Robert has become the boar. I look at him with my eyes suffused with blood lust and see the beast albeit a smaller, captured version. Robert/Boar screams aloud. Jack grabs him by the hair. I feel the power surging through the crowd. Raw emotions come to the surface. I feel the fierce wild joy of the hunt. Something in me responds, first timidly like a lion cub first out in the sun then it matures and roars like the ferocious pride leader. The sky goes red. I see everything through a bloody haze. The scarlet is reflected in the flashing of Jack's knife. I sense the urging in me to stick my spear into flesh, to rip and tear and maul. Even Ralph is fighting near me to get closer. I hear another scream. Finally I get to the center of the ring but by then the red has faded. In the middle is Jack and beside him the terrified once beast, Robert. He sniffles.
"That was scary." Sagely, Ralph agrees.
"That wasn't good." He looks around. "What about Piggy?" His concern for his useless lieutenant is touching. Or would be if Piggy wasn't so very, very infuriating. Simon volunteers to go off alone to tell Piggy. He leaves into the darkness, his little form disappearing into the black. Jack responds. I zone out of the conversation and go back to contemplating the idea of cutting once more into living flesh. By the time that I have been awakened from this fantasy Jack and Ralph have chosen me to go up the mountain with them. By now it is dark and I can see Ralph tremble. Pathetic. He has to save face so he goes with us. Shadows lengthen. The air grows cold and sinister. When we reach the top Ralph's cowardice becomes apparent. He refuses to go on. Uncompromisingly, Jack insists. Finally Ralph hits enough nerves for Jack to leave us behind. We sit down on opposite sides of the log. I tap my spear in an annoying way. I can almost hear Ralph grinding his teeth. When Jack returns his face is pale in the moonlight.
"The beast is up there."he says quietly. Nervously, Ralph and I stand up. We continue to trek up the mountain since Ralph doesn't believe in the beast. Once we reach the top though he has a new opinion. The beast is there in plain sight. Dark, unseeing eyes glint in a strange half-wrecked face. When the figure moves not one of us sticks around long enough to learn anything more about the monster. We race down the mountain. The moonlight glimmers on an darkened figure with something flapping like giant batwings that haunts me when I close my eyes.

Essential Questions

What is man's "true nature"?
What causes us to either follow the rules of society or act for our own good at the expense of the community?

Scenes from the book

This is a picture of the plane carrying the boys crashing. This event is important because that's why they are on the island. It is also like them having society removed from them forcibly leaving only the raw emotions and desires behind.

This picture is where on of the littuns is playing in the lagoon and Roger is throwing stones at him. Roger feels the influence of society (Superego) and keeps the stones a safe distance from the boy. This is significant because it shows how the morality especially amoung the hunters is fading as the boys, whose Superegos have not yet fully developed, find themselves alone. It hints at the darker side of humanity and what will happen later in the book as morality fades.

Since the glasses are a symbol for science and democracy when the glasses break that means that the democracy they are creating is dying also. When they kill the pig and come back chanting as savages the society has taken a severe blow. This is shown by the incarnation of Id/Thanatos/Savagery, Jack being the one to strike Piggy and break his glasses. The fact that Simon picks them up means that Simon still values civilization above savagery.

Roger

Roger was, before the crash, one of the choir boys. He is usually very quiet and doesn't talk much. Roger has dark brown or black hair that goes into his face. He is one of the older boys and is later Jack's lieutenant. Roger is morose and sullen. He hunts with Jack and is loyal to him. Roger has an important role later on in the book. He is rather sadistic and cruel.

Lord of Psychology-The Id, The Ego and The Superego

Brief Explanation-
The Id, the Ego and the Superego are all part of Freud’s theory that the mind has three parts.
The Id- Carnal desires, desires for food, warmth, clothing, etc. The Id is like a small child with no sense of delayed gratification and conscience. The Id wants things and wants them now. The Id does not think of how this could be bad in the long term or to others. When the Id wants something the Id does not listen to any objections.
The Ego- The Ego plays the part of the middleman; the Ego must balance the desires of the Id, the conscientiousness of the Superego and what is available.
The Superego- The Superego is conscience, when you are little and entirely ruled by the Id, the Superego is like your parents saying, "That isn't right". The Superego is like the rules that you must follow, this is basically morality. The Superego is the opposite of the Id.
The Id, The Ego and The Superego in The Lord of the Flies-
In The Lord of the Flies the boys are stranded on an island while their sense of morality is not fully formed. The younger you are the more completely ruled by the Id than you are later. The boys are removed from outside influence. Three of the boys come to represent different things in the story. Jack represents the Id, Ralph represents the Ego and Piggy represents the Superego.
Jack as the Id-
In the beginning Jack’s craving for power becomes evident. He desires power and he wants it now. He becomes a monomaniac and is obsessed with his desire to kill a pig. He refuses to listen to how this is bad or how he should do something else. He hit Piggy (the Superego) when Piggy told him he shouldn’t have let the fire go out. He does not want to wait and he hates to be instructed in morality by the Superego (Piggy). He is willing to resort to unlawful activities to get what he wants. He is violent and lawless. He reacts against order and always wants his way at the cost of society. Jack tries to get power by preying on fears of the beast with out thinking of how devastating this could be to the littluns. In short, all of his actions are exactly those of a little and undeveloped child who is ruled by the Id.
Ralph as the Ego-
Ralph is the democratic leader of the boys. He tries to fairly keep the little ones safe and prevent Jack from resting control. He protects democracy and tries to make the best of their surroundings. He tries to create a civilization but tries to mollify Jack by making him the leader of the Hunters. He helps Piggy create rules that keep them from savagery and is mainly on the side of the Superego though not as passionate and occasionally succumbs to the Id but usually repents later. He balances Jack (Id) and Piggy (Superego) and the littluns. The way Ralph fights for democracy is an example of how the Ego would want a democracy so that everyone has input. In a functional democracy the Ego is in charge and that is symbolized by the fact that Ralph is elected the leader.
Piggy as the Superego-
Piggy is highly educated and scientific. This is demonstrated by the fact that he is the one to realize the need for taking names. He follows the rules of conscience and society always. He tries to prevent the Id from running wild. He fights for democracy and is the enemy of Jack (Id). Piggy always tries to recreate the society that they had at home and school. He constantly tells the other boys when they are doing the wrong thing and tells them that they are departing from civilization. He is never violent and is kind to the littluns as seen when he is the one to speak for a shy littlun scared of the beastie. He tries to debunk the myths of the beast to prevent panic.
The Lord of the Flies as an allegory for Freud’s theory-
In The Lord of the Flies the boys are on an island and the Id and the Superego are fighting for control. Some of these battles are the Signal Fire, the Huts and Failed Meeting. If you look you can see how Piggy/Superego is trying to keep the group organized and moral while Jack/Id is disrupting it. Also you can see Ralph/Ego trying to recreate a democratic society where everyone is happy. The whole book shows the way that the Id, the Ego and the Superego try to work as one when they have no way to escape each other.
Eros and Thanatos-
There are two other relevant concepts. These are called Eros and Thanatos.
Eros-
Eros is the love of life and happiness. This is the side of people that likes puppies and giving people flowers. In Greek Eros literally means "love". In Greek mythology Eros is the equivalent of Cupid.
Thanatos-
Thanatos is the opposite of Eros. Thanatos is the darker side of humanity. Thanatos is the drive to do risky, potentially dangerous activities. It is also the urge to hurt/kill. Thanatos is the side of people that prompts them, when near a cliff, to think about what would happen if they jumped off it. Thanatos in Greek mythology is a minor death god.
Eros and Thanatos in The Lord of the Flies-
In the book, it is possible to see Eros and Thanatos acting upon the boys. The conch and signal fire and Simon come to represent Eros while Jack, Roger and the Beast become the embodiment of Thanatos.
Conch/Signal Fire/Simon-
The conch is supposed to grant rights to everyone. It allows freedoms and democracy, It keeps them alive and hopefully happy. The signal fire is supposed to get them rescued. Both it and the conch are supposed to keep them from cruelty and viciousness. Simon is a kind person who supports the littuns in their pursuit of happiness. He is helpful and does not hurt anyone or seem to have urges to hurt anyone. They do not work well with Thanatos/Jack/Roger/Beastie. Simon does not hunt with them and the conch stands in the way of Jack grabbing total power. The signal fire is a beacon of the hope that Jack does not care about since he likes being on the island. The signal fire keeps hope alive that slows Jack down in his hunt for power and satisfying his impulses. The conch and signal fire are supposed to keep them from letting beastie take over and Simon tries to persuade people that there is no beast.
Jack/Roger/Beastie-
As stated in "Jack as The Id" Jack Merridew is filled with urges toward violence. These are urges toward killing which his Id side allows freedom. He kills pigs to satisfy his cravings toward Thanatos though later he satisfies these with other things. Roger also comes to be similar to Thanatos. I cannot post about Roger succumbing to Thanatos since it occurs later in the book. The beast is basically a symbol of Thanatos since it represents cruelty and viciousness which are what Thanatos is.

Jack

Jack was once the leader of the choir. Since being left on the island he decided to try and hold onto his authority and tried to be the elected leader. However his haughty manner prevented most of the boys from voting for him. He was given the position, leader of the hunters, to mollify him. He has become a monomaniac and obsesses over the idea of killing a pig. He has the responsibility of keeping the fire going but abandons it to go hunting for pigs. He naturally rebels against authority and represents this side of human personalities. He rejects the democratic symbolism of the conch and tries to rule instead off of fear. He preys off the fears of the beast and is currently trying to topple Ralph's government although he does not openly declare this.
His physical appearance is tall, red-haired, and freckled. He has blue eyes that when he is angry look opaque.
We are reading chapter 6

Blog 5- Version 2

Kai pulled herself out her second story window. Carefully placing her feet on the trellis outside her window, she climbed up to the roof. It was twilight. Kai stood at the edge of the roof and looked out. A cool wind blew her hair back and made her shiver.
A blood red sun sank into the distant sea. The clouds moved around it far, far away. The sea was active and waves frothed and bubbled. Kai could hear the faint sounds of them crashing onto the shore. Each wave rose up, a blue, watery mountain, and then raced to the shore. White horses ran before them, racing each other in a never-ending race to the beach. Chasing the one ahead and chased by the one behind, the cycle continued. They stamped their white hooves in impatience and reared up. Their manes flew back behind them as they raced each other to the beach. As it crashed onto the sandy shore new breakers rose and moved around them. Swells ruled the ocean. It was the land of blue, deep and mysterious.
A gull flew over the houses, it's harsh cry a call to the sea. It swooped over the town, graceful and alert. White wings with black tips carried it, gliding, over the land. And at the sound of that call gulls rose up from all around. They flew upward into the darkening sky from the houses and rooftops. Orange feet pushed their feathered owners from their daytime, suburban roosts. Cries echoes in all directions. The air was suddenly filled with restless birds all yearning for the food and liberty that the sea gave them. They moved in perfect unison, circled, and flew to the water's edge. One bird hopped gingerly out onto a rooftop behind the others. One wing dangled uselessly at its side. As it craned its neck it tried to flap its wings. The broken wing still dragged, the black and white streaked with brown from flopping into the dust. It cried out plaintively and frantically beat its one good wing yet it couldn't make the lift off. The white horses of the waves reared and raced but the bird could only watch them from afar.
Real horses ran to the sea also. Brown and white, black and chestnut they ran across the far off meadows. A leader ran ahead of them. Paint with black mane and tail, muscles rippling he called to the herd behind him. He bucked and snorted. As the wind tugged at their manes and tails they ran down the green hills past the city to the ocean. A mare raced along side the stallion. White and finer-boned she neighed exultantly to the skies. The wild ones seemed to fly along the shore where the small sea grasses grew. Then, with clouds of sand rising from their speeding hooves, they reached the water. Suddenly shy, they hung back until the white mare arched her neck and stepped forward. Billows of white spray flew up around her as she leaped in. The others followed this wild leader and frolicked in the waves.
The gulls, disturbed from their rest, screamed and flew high into the sky then wheeled round and alighted on the beach. The world was wild and free as all of the untamed, unfettered animals stirred up and raced the waves. Manes and wings fluttered in the wind that pulled at the improper houses and tried to remove them from this scene. Everything felt the call to nature. The sand on the shore swirled. The sun sank still deeper and the bloodshot sky became a deep purple. The green sea grasses tugged at their bearings that anchored them to the land. The white mare stepped gracefully out of the water for a moment to take a bite of the salty ocean-side plants. She bent her lithe neck and took a bite. Kai watched her with bated breath. The mare raised her head a little. Her wise, dark eyes stared into Kai’s shifting, light-blue eyes. They held a message of wildness and freedom. Kai couldn’t look away. Then, with a toss of her proud head the mare reared and cried a message to the herd and as one they thundered back to the mountains.
Kai watched them run. The wind pulled at her hair like it had pulled at the mare’s. She smiled fiercely and raised her face to the stars. The sea air was sharp and wild and the stars twinkled.
This is the second version of my "Blog 5", the indirect characterization entry. Can you guess this emotion?
Hint: It's different from the other.

Simon

Once a choir boy, when Simon is first introduced he is half fainting from the shock of the plane crash. An older boy, Simon is the only one who helps Ralph on the huts. He has dark hair and darker skin. Simon has an unusual sense of morality. His morality comes from the natural world rather than from human society which means that unlike the others his morality does not erode over time. When alone Simon enjoys sitting by himself and watching nature. One of the only older boys who is kind to the littluns, Simon will happily get food for them and is considerate of others. He respects Ralph greatly. One of his only flaws is his over vivid imagination which shall be encountered later.
We are currently at chapter 5.

Blog 5

Mae let the rain drip down her face. The ground was cold and damp. The clouds hung dark and low like sleeping, errant, black sheep. Thick curtains of rain festooned the sky. Shadowy swirls of mist came twisting through on the gusting wind. The path ahead and behind her was obscured by the rain and fog carried on shifting winds. The rain poured down. All of the plants hung limply under the torrent. A single, bedraggled hare hopped hurridly along and took refuge quickly in a small hole under a bush. The other animals were in safe seclusion deep under the ground. They had sensed the coming rainstorm. Up ahead on the trail, all that was visible was a few feet of drenched, sodden path. The whole world seemed to be in tears. Clouds quickly rolled by dumping their drops onto the sleeping world. The hours it had been raining felt like years unending. The blue sky seemed so far away.
Mud puddles adorned the ground, each holding a small, broken mirror image of the heart-broken sky. The brown ground was covered in these such puddles. Each was about the size of a small window. A raindrop fell from a cloud far above. It came down in a perfect, exact teardrop. It caught the faint light and shimmered slightly. For a second it seemed to hover, suspended, fleeting perfection. With a slight splash it landed in a littler puddle. It sent tidal waves in all directions to reach the edges of the sea. A fleeting crown arose where it had fallen. It raised delicate drops up and then they came down again. It in it's turn was eclipsed by the next falling drop, each to add to the other until this small wet patch was as large as all the others.
A small daisy growing by the wayside had broken. It's stem snapped in half by the continual rain. It lay, broken and warped, across the path. The flower once must have been a delicate, beautiful white and a rich, vibrant yellow. Now, half-submerged in one of the muddy basins the colors seemed muted. The white became off-white, a muddy, dispiriting color. But the saddest was the yellow. Once so full of life and vitality it was brown and withered. The green was darkened and browned. Petals came off the daisy. Small and white they drifted hopelessly, up and down, right and left. One brave flower came to the top and made a boat rocking on the water. It sailed along, dodging the raindrops, like a funeral boat shrouded in white cloth for the dead. Another mournful tear dripped down from the graying, ancient sky and fell into the tiny craft. It sank under the weight of it's burden and slowly went down, down, down. To the bottom of the muddy lake to be covered in the scum at the bottom.
Mae's footsteps behind her filled like lagoons. Sweeping, raging rivers fed by the rain came rushing along the path. They passed and made passage back impossible. They erased her footsteps in the soil. Eroded quickly, they left no trace that she had passed there except for small depressions. These filled and became mirrors that continually were refilled. The only was to go was on ahead. Out loud Mae said, "I've got to go on."

Note: The goal of this blog was to demonstrate Indirect Characterization. Can you guess what it's about? Post guesses as comments.

Ralph

Ralph is the elected leader of the boys. He is 12 years old and is from the country. A democratic leader, Ralph makes the mistake of trusting Jack. This leads to the collapse of the society. Ralph wants order and a stable, civilized village. He is the main builder of the soon discarded huts. He has great trust in another boy called Piggy, whose scientific mind, and glasses, allow the society to survive as long as it did. Ralph's symbol of leadership is the conch that he and Piggy found and used to call all of the boys.
In the story Ralph represents the protagonist and society's rational side. His opposite is Jack who represents the wilder side and the dangers of succumbing to impulses. The symbols around him are the conch, the signal fire, Piggy's glasses, and the beastie.
The last chapter we read was chapter 4.
Note: the words in blue are the vocabulary words. These words are assigned by Mr. Shaddox and are from the book.

Blog 4-The Dying Fire-Ralph's Journal

Suddenly, smoke rises up over the mountain. It trickles into the sky, less real than the mirages that shimmer at the edge of our vision when we look out over the sea. But is the little bit of smoke enough? Is it even the full signal fire? I look out at the opalescent sea. It is clear and blue for miles unending. Still and calm it seems unending. An impenetrable barrier. But something moves out there on the faraway horizon. A small dot moves across where the sea meats the sky. A small dot that could only be a ship! I cry out.
"A ship!" Simon, Piggy and Maurice all look up.
"A ship?" Maurice speaks quickly and incredulously. "Where?" Simon has spotted it now.
"There!" he points to it. We can feel our excitement growing. The fire is of sudden and complete importance. Piggy whispers shrilly.
"But the fire's gone out!" We race up the mountain. Not wearing anything the brambles scratch our skin and leave us bleeding. I am in the front, Maurice a close second. This has become a race against time. Us against the malevolent persona of the island, against time. I get to a bare spot. The smoke has slowed. A terrible choice stands before me. I glance back over my shoulder. Piggy labors up the mountain. If I wait for him to get to the top then the ship may pass. But if I don't wait for him then the fire might be out and I will have to watch as the ship moves out of sight while I am powerless to stop it. I make my choice. There's a better chance of success if I get to the top.
"Oh God, Oh God!" I cry out in torment. A little whimper escapes my throat. I race further up the mountain. I groan in horror as I see the signal fire. Like some monstrous nightmare the fire is out. I feel rage bubble up in my throat. Jack and his hunters are nowhere to be seen. If they had tended the fire then the ship would be headed our way and rescue would be at hand. I can see Piggy laboriously clambering up the mountain. It's painful to watch him. I seethe with anger at Jack. This is his fault. When I find him I'll give him such a tongue-lashing. What ever he was doing is a meaningless irrelevance. The fact remains that he has betrayed his most important duty. Soon Maurice, Simon, and Piggy get up here. Piggy is last, huffing as if he's just run a marathon.
"The fire's out." I state flatly. I pause for a moment to let the awful implications sink in. Within seconds Simon's shy, dark face has turned an ashen white. He has evidentially imagined the consequences for this. Stuck on an island forever, with no hope of a rescue.
"This is preposterous!" Piggy insists. "We give Jack one duty and he fails." I hush him even though I'm thinking the same thing. In a little while the errant boys come into sight. Jack is proudly at the head of the procession. My fury with him grows. The twins, Sam and Eric, follow right behind him. The hold a mangled carcass. That of a pig. The fact that Jack has finally succeeded should make me happy. It does not. As they get even closer I can hear them chanting. the sound carries eerily to where we stand. The group comes our way. Jack dances forward. His gyrations only serve to make me angrier.
"We caught a pig!" Jack shouts. "We got 'er! The twins got knocked over and I cut 'er throat!"
"You let the fire go out." I say. Something in this makes him uneasy.
"We had to have everyone for the ring."
"You let the fire go out." A simple statement.
"Look, I told you. We needed everyone."
"There was a ship." A concerted wail arises from the hunters. "And you let the fire go out." Jack is even more uneasy.
"We got the pig. They'll be more ships." Piggy speaks up.
"You and your pigs, Jack Merridew! We need to be rescued." Jack hates taking criticism from anyone and certainly not from Piggy.
"You didn't do nothing, Fatty." he says viciously. He punches Piggy in the stomach. Piggy is pushed backwards. Even though Piggy can be a bit of a nuisance this seems a little cruel. I intend to intervene. As I move forward Jack smacks Piggy's head. His glasses go flying off to land with a tinkle. Piggy wails.
"My specs." Blindly, he crawls over the rocks toward them. His outstretched, groping hands are slightly pathetic. Simon gets to his glasses and hands them to him.
"One side's broken." he says solemnly.
Piggy wails again. "You broke my specs." he shoves them onto his nose. Simon is right. One side of the glasses is broken. Jack raises a hand threateningly toward Piggy and he clambers away. Jack mimics his movements.
"That was a dirty trick." Jack looks at me. He gauges the mood of the audience and decides that at this moment they are my men.
"I'm sorry. We won't let the fire go out again." The crowd is now Jack's. His handsome "apology" turned their opinions around.
I repeat, "That was a dirty trick." Jack shifts.
"Let's build up the fire again to cook our meat." The crowd agrees. Except I am standing where the fire was. It is a test to see if I still have any power left over this rabble. I do. They are forced to build the fire again some three meters away. Jack grinds his teeth but is unable to change that fact. They cook their meat over the fire. Disorganized, they cook themselves more than the meat. I intended to refuse but instead the sight of good food thawed me out. I accepted a hunk of meat and gnawed on it hungrily. Piggy comes to get his share also. Jack refuses.
"You didn't hunt." Piggy whines.
"No more did Ralph," he gestures to me, "Nor Simon." Guiltily self-conscious, Simon shoves his meat to Piggy. This infuriates Jack. It means he has a lessening hold on Simon. He cuts another hunk off the pig and shoves it at Simon.
"Eat, damn you. I hunted and brought you meat. Now eat." Bewildered, Simon picks up the meat and begins to eat. But I am not easy in my mind. The signal fire is like a symbol for our hope and it's extinguishing means that civilization is fading among the hunters. The dying fire is also dying hope and the smoke rises into the air, a mournful last stand of our original goals.

Symbols in The Lord of the Flies

The are many symbols in this story.
The first one is the conch. The conch represents order, civilization, democracy, and structure. Whoever has the conch is able to speak and be acknowledged. Piggy often bears the conch, which represents how logical, intellectual thought leads to these things. Jack does not respect the conch which shows the way that he is the opposite of civilized. The conch represents the "Ego" side of everyone. To find out about Id, Ego and Superego read "Lord of Psychology-The Id, The Ego and The Superego".
The second symbol is Piggy's glasses. Piggy and his glasses are intellectual, logical and clear-headed. They represent science, intellectualism and careful, thoughtful behavior. The way that they are used and stolen by Jack shows how science can be used as a weapon. It also shows Jack's disrespect for what they represent. The way they are being broken shows how science and rationality are being eroded at and these values are being removed. If the glasses were to be totally wrecked it would mean that science was dead. Piggy's glasses and Piggy are the "Superego" side of everyone.
The third symbol is the signal fire. As long as it burns that means that the boys still want to be rescued and they still remember their old homes. If they allow the fire to go out that means they have stopped caring. Whoever is the one to step up and work to keep the fire is the one holding onto hope of a rescue and fighting for civilization. When the fire goes out that means that science is dead and savagery has won.
The last of the four symbols is the Beast. This represents the wild, savage, side of everyone that is unconscious. Basically, the instinct to hurt annd kill brutally. When Jack is hunting and feels that something is stalking him, something like the Beast, it shows how his need to kill and his lust for cruelty allows him to feel savagery sneaking up on him. This shows his reversion to this more savage and wild side of himself. This also is the impulses (Id) side of everyone.
There are many other symbols that appear later in the story. We are now at chapter 3.

Blog 3-Of Huts and Pigs-Jack's Journal

I crouch. Motionless, I wait. The forest is still, very still. Silence is all around me. A tendril of vine has crept down and brushes my back with little green fingers. I brush it aside and wait. The air is hot and humid. I breathe in slowly. Frustration clouds my vision. How can I hunt and kill when I am distracted by anger? Ralph and that ridiculous lieutenant of his, Piggy, stay back in the camp and play while I stalk my prey through the thick, lush forest. In the shadows I feel like I've been here forever, like I belong to the forest as much as my prey. The shadows around me encompass me and I feel as if I am melting into the island. I stealthily drop to hands and knees and sneak like a jaguar through the tropical jungle. The patches of light allow small bits of illumination on the forest floor. The world seems to be holding it's breath while I put being human on hold for a moment. The stick I hold trails behind me and leaves a trail in the dirt like a snake. I glance down at my spear. A disappointment. Even though it is five feet long without a barb it is useless. If only I had one. Then I would be able to be successful. We wounded a pig earlier but it fell out and we lost our prey, couldn't make a kill. The site of that blood was a stimulus. It kept me interested in the chase. To spill more blood, to see the pig fall dead. To revert to savagery and take it's life. The heat is oppressive and forces my mind back to the lagoon. Calm, cool water.
Furtively, I move and examine the traces. A sound catches my ear. Somewhere a pig moves on the track. I leap to my feet and spring into position. When it comes close enough I will spring and deliver the killing blow. As I wait I watch the glimmer of light that creeps through the trees to the forest floor. The vines festoon the trees. It's like the way my father, what did he look like, I can't even remember his face, decorated the tree at Christmas last year, or was it on Easter? Home in London, or was it in Cambridge, seems so far away. Unnecessary details like my old home, for the island is my home now, should be forgotten. Ralph's way of clinging to the hope of rescue bewilders me. His way of thinking is inscrutable to me. The sound of the pig gets louder. I put all thoughts of Ralph out of my head and lunge forward. The pig senses me and runs for cover. I throw my spear and miss. The pig's terrified footfalls die away in the once more quiet wood. I straighten up in disgust. My body is streaked with all the grime of a brutal day in the dirt, crawling and stalking. I must face Ralph eventually. It may as well be sooner rather than later. I will have to watch him flaunting his achievements. As I head for the camp I hear the sound of the little ones playing in the water. If I were leader they would be serving a purpose. They would have to work or else... I see Piggy sitting by them. The boy looks like the personification of stupid civilization. Or like a caricature of what would happen if you allowed your reflexes to dull. I hate the boy.
I walk into the camp to find Simon and Ralph working on a hut. Two shaky huts stand beside the one in progress, which looks like it is about to fall down. If I was in charge hut building would be mandatory for the little ones. Failure to do so would result in harsh punishment. Ralph looks absorbed in his task.
"Is there water anywhere?" I ask. He ignores me; whether from paying attention only to his job or from contempt I can't tell. "I say, is there any water? Hunting all day makes you thirsty." He turns at last.
"Coconuts under the tree. Should be some there." He remarks disinterestedly. I move to the tree and grab one. I drain it rapidly before moving back toward Simon and Ralph.
"Got a pig?" Ralph asks. Internally I scowl. He has to rub my nose in my sore spot.
"Not yet. But I will get one." I feel my blood boil at the exciting thought of making a kill at long last. He grunts and looks at my face. I try to calm down.
"I don't suppose that you feel like helping build huts." he paused. "Do you?" I shook my head. Since I've been hunting I feel like a creature of the woods, not a civilized person. The feeling of someone stalking me is frightening and almost exhilarating. To be tied down to building huts would be a torture.
"Hut building isn't my thing really." he shook his head.
"I didn't think so." I reflect on the best course of action. At this point, before I can show off a kill I cannot afford to alienate the leader. I must be diplomatic.
"Did the little ones help at all?" I ask. He shakes his head.
"At first. Then they wander off. It's only Simon and I left working. We've been working all day." I respond. He snaps back. In minutes we are fighting. Simon watches anxiously from inside the unfinished hut. All of the tensions between the free wild and stupid, caged "society" come to the front. Two leaders, on opposite sides. We calm down after a little while. We walk down along the shore of the lagoon. Although on the outside I am calm and collected on the inside I am thinking of what I would do to him if I were the leader. Visions of leadership fill my head. Punishing that fool Piggy for his officious advice, punishing any hunter who fails to assist in the killing, forcing the little ones to work. Ralph interrupts these pleasant musings with a remark about the fire.
"It's not high enough." I snarl slightly.
"What are you implying? It's my hunters who are keeping it going." He nods.
"How far away could you see it from?" He asks musingly. I look out over the glimmering, shining, and everlasting sea and wonder why we care how far away we could see it from.
"Miles. Why do we care?" He looks at me as if I've gone mad.
"Rescue." He repeats the word slowly. "A ship needs a signal for it to come here." I shrug.
"If only I could catch one." I say softly. He pays no attention.
"Look, more smoke! They put on green branches. They must see a ship!" I nod but my mind is elsewhere. Instead of soaring across the seas like Ralph's mind mine is climbing the mountain looking for prey.
"That's it" He looks up. "The pigs must rest up in the shade of the mountain when it gets hot. Maybe I could take some of my hunters, paint our faces, and ambush them." His face is angry.
"I thought you were thinking of the ship." I respond snippily.
"We need meat."
"We need to be rescued."
"I need to catch a pig."
"You and pigs. That's all you think about."
"And you only think of the ships and the huts. Go back to building your huts on the beach."
"You think I like that?" Suddenly he is yelling. "You think I like working all day with only Simon for help?"
"I've been working too!" I yell back.
"But you like hunting. I don't like working on huts." We think for a moment. If only I could catch a pig then I wouldn't have to deal with Ralph. If only. Do those pigs know that they hold my fate in their pink feet? Is that why they flee? I cut short these musings. United for the moment in the attempt to cool down we wonder back toward the lagoon. As we prepare to dive in Ralph says something. I cock my head to listen.
"Jack, I'm sorry. People are never what they seem. I'm losing patience." I nod. The confirmation that something is wrong and that he has an exploitable weakness is better than his apology.
"It's alright." Now all I need is how to use this opening. And when I make a kill and have meat to give out I know just the way to do it...

Our Current Progress

Right now we have just read chapter two. I'm really excited to see what my classmates think of the book and how it shows human nature.

Note: In between all of the prompted posts I am going to have a little extra like this. Later these will include descriptions of real characters and the characters that I create for my entries. Each time it will have our progress in the book.

Blog 2-The First Crossroad-Piggy's Journal

"We should light a signal fire on the mountain!" The words sweep through the assembly like a wave. It washes over everyone and catches hold of everyone. The tumult is incredible. Boys who, moments before, were quiet and respectful or jeering are jumping up and racing after Jack. Those fools. Jack is only after power and doesn't care how he gets it. His personality is more pleasing than Ralph's but I don't trust him. There is an irresistible charm about him that all but I fall prey to. I've learned too much. He doesn't like me or think I'm capable of anything. I'll prove him wrong. Underestimating your opponent can be a fatal error. And I am his opponent. He would crush our society for his own gain and I will prevent him. I cannot tell Ralph about this, he trusts Jack. I would be out of favor and then I wouldn't have enough influence to stop him. He will warp the truth and lie to get what he wants. Not the sort of person who would play by society's rules. The boys he has with him are not much better. Roger seems to be cold and cruel. Simon, is an enigma. I cannot fathom what goes on in his mind. Scornfully, Roger turns. He is mainly silent, this one.
"Coming?" he yells. "Jack's going to light a fire!" his eyes are aglow with a strange hunger. The lust for power. I shudder and Ralph turns in confusion toward me. I shake my head.
"It's nothing. But aren't you annoyed that they broke your authority?" he shrugs.
"It was a good idea." he says simply. "I don't mind." I smirk a little to myself. I had seen him trying to get everyone to stay.
"Everyone needs to save face." I murmur. He turns again.
"What?" I shake my head.
"Nothing." Nimbly, he hops over a rock on the way. I shake my head again but there is admiration this time. I glance down at my own body. Not an athletic one unfortunately. Besides there's my asthma. My glasses slip down my nose and I carefully push them back. There's no way for me to get a new pair and I'm almost blind with out them. We reach the summit behind the others. Jack is already officiously throwing his weight around. My lip curls back into a snarl almost of it's own accord. I trust him even less now. He has no respect for democracy. Ralph and I join in the log gathering. He helps Jack with a big log. I carry tinder. Ralph says something.
"How do you intend to light the fire?" a simple and effective damper.
"You could make a bow." Roger demonstrates with his hands.
"Or use a magnifying glass like I use at school to light leaves on fire." suggests a small boy near me. I shudder. I know what's coming.
"Piggy's glasses!" the mob moves toward me. Ralph stops them with a single glance. His power is great but I still worry about Jack. I see Jack beside a little boy. He says something quiet and cruel and shoves the boy aside. The little boys are a strange mob. They follow headlong any new idea but some of them get bored quickly and move on to playing. I see three of them now back down in the lagoon. We are so different, them and I. I aim for a society and will fight for it and they want to play. Jack could manipulate them easily if he got the right leverage. I see Roger looking coolly over at me as he twists the arm of a little boy to make him move. I am scared by his cruelty.
Jack takes my glasses, ignoring my protests and starts to light the fire. One wisp of smoke curls up then another. Flames grow from the spot like vines. Twisting and tangling upward. Smoke rises and swirls toward the blue sky. In seconds a roaring fire has grown from the spot. The boys race from the spot to gather still more wood while I do some quick calculations. If the fire continues at this rate it will use 10 logs per minute and the boys together can only gather nine. And every moment more and more small boys run off to play with their comrades. Finally everyone collapsed exhausted like I knew they would eventually. We glance around us. My attention is caught by smoke rising from the forest. Is it what I think it could be? Forest fire? I point it out to Ralph.
"You got your little fire" I say. We see the forest begin to go up in flames. Then we try to find out about the little boys. Then comes the dreaded realization that we have lost one of them. The little boy who was scared of the snake. My heart turns over in my chest. Is there any way such a small boy could survive?
"Maybe he went back down." Ralph suggests hollowly. But we all know it is false. The little boy with the mark on the side of his face is dead. Solemnly, they all wound their way back to the lagoon where we had started. Ralph was the last to leave except for me. I looked up at the sky. Doubt clouds my vision. Can a haphazard group of boys like us, divided between two leaders survive on our own?

The Assignment

In our Humanities class we are reading The Lord of the Flies. We have to write a blog about this book. To see all of the prompts we were assigned see http://lordoftheflies8th.blogspot.com/. This is my teacher's blog.

Feel Free to comment about my writing.

Thank you,
Emma

Blog 1-The Calling of the Shell

The plane bursts into flames and falls from the sky. Down, down toward the ocean rushing up to greet it. The boys around me scream in terror and I close my eyes. But it is too late. I have already seen the blasted hole in the side and I know, young though I am, that the plane cannot pull out of its terrible free fall. The boy beside me screams.
"We've been shot!" again and again until he runs out of breath. The water keeps getting bigger. Could one plane filled with small boys survive such a fall?
Then, suddenly, horribly, my suspense is over. The plane strikes the ground with a sickening crunch and bursts into flames. Screams of terror surround me. I pull myself free of the rubble and look around. A little boy is trapped beneath a piece of plane. The fire rages toward him like a living thing. Like some monstrous tiger made of flame. I pause. Mother always told me to remember that every one has to make a choice someday. A choice whether to risk your life for some one else or be safe and let them be hurt. She said, man is neither inherently sinful or inherently good. She told me that a man has tendencies toward good and tendencies toward evil. But she always told me that the situation would help you make your choice. I guessed this time was my choice.
The boy screamed again. He couldn't have been any older than six. He looked at me for a moment and I made my choice. If I didn't help him I knew that I would never be able to live with myself. I jumped forward. Moving quickly I dragged him from the burning wreckage. Seconds later that part of the plane collapsed. The little boy looked up at me, sooty and disheveled. I can see the fearful pallor of his face under the grime.
"Yo-you saved my life," he murmurs softly. His round eyes reflect the flames.
"Don't mention it." I respond, "Anyone would do the same." All of a sudden a strident noise soars up from the trees. It deafens the clamor of boys screaming to each other and boys crying in terror. I look around me. The boy clinging to my arm looks around also. Two older boys arguing a few feet away seem to be better informed then I am. I walk over. As I do I hear another sound through the grating of trees around me. It is a low snarl that makes my blood run cold. The littler boy quivers in fear as he catches the sound of the growl as it blows across the shallow lagoon on the little breeze. I pat his arm comfortingly.
"There's nothing wrong." I murmur gently. He nods like the small child that he is. A pile of rocks blocks the path we have chosen to walk on. Happily he clambers over them like a monkey. When I was smaller I used to do the same thing. My five year old brother does just that now. I wonder how he is doing and what he will think when he finds out his older brother is marooned some where. I put these depressing thoughts out of my head and walk around the rocks. We reach the older boys and I realize I am mistaken. They are no older than my age of 8. Vainly the little boy tries to tap them on the shoulder to make them stop arguing. One of them stretches out an arm and knocks him aside before returning to the fray. I gasp in indignation. This is the opposite of everything my mother ever told me about decorous behavior. She always told me to be courteous to everyone and respect all creatures great and small from the giant carriage horses to the tiny ants. I interpose angrily.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you to be kind to those smaller than you?" the boy who pushed him down shrugs.
"There aren't any adults here to make the rules." I gasp again. No adults? The boy smirks.
"What was that noise?" they cock their heads in confusion. "You didn't hear it?" they shake their heads in denial. "You heard it didn't you?" I turn to the little boy. "And by the way, what is your name?" he smiles innocently.
"Henry."
"Tom, pleased to meet you. You did hear it right?" Henry nods. The other two begin to speculate on the chances of being rescued. They put the odds at 20%. A fruits falls off a branch of one of the trees and rolls down the slight incline into the water near us. Henry picks it up and eagerly devours it. I smile tolerantly and turn away.
"Do you think we should follow the sound?" They shrug nonchalantly.
"Why not?" one of them says. I tap Henry and he follows obediently after us. Two boys stand in the center of a clearing. One of them is tall, slender and fair and the other is short and fat with glasses. The tall one has a shell in his hands that I instantly recognize as a conch. He puts it to his lip again as the fat boy waddles over to us.
"Names?" he asks in a businesslike manner.
"Tom."
"Henry."
"Tim."
"Ted." He nods and hurries off in the direction of some other boys who have just come. We sit down. In minutes the clearing fills up with boys all no older than 12. Last, a group of boys in two neat rows march in. The tall, fair boy sums up the situation in a few well-chosen words. The respect that I already had for him increases monumentally. He would make a good leader and maybe he will someday if we ever get off here alive. He and the leader of the boys in black caps dispute leadership. The other boy looks arrogant and cruel, out for power. I do not like the look of one of the boys he has with him, a boy he calls Roger. The fat boy turns again to us.
"Let's take a vote." everyone raises his hand when he announces Ralph, the tall boy. I smile. Something about the other boy is interesting but frightening. Mother always said I was perceptive. There is an aura of malice about him and a hunger that cannot be cured by fruit or meat. A lust for power hides in his eyes. I am frightened of the boy they call Jack though I cannot say why. I cannot tell anyone, Ralph trusts Jack and made him leader of the hunters. We are making what will be like a small village of boys only until we are rescued. I smile softly to myself and pay more attention to Ralph.