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.