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Cowardice	By : saucyminion Category: G through L > Lord of the Flies Views: 17461 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Part 12 – Breaking of Bread II

    “Wine?”
    It was the first word spoken since the somewhat awkward, silent car ride, and since they’d strolled up to Jack’s house. Ralph had internally entitled it the ‘Merridew Mansion,’ which seemed to suit the place well.
    “Yes. Yes, please,” Ralph responded, trying not to sound too relieved. “Wine” had been just the word he needed to hear.
    “Right,” Jack said with a relieved nod and a smile. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a moment.” With that, he turned and went into the kitchen.
    The kitchen was on the other side of the glass patio doors, past a wide, open dining room. The patio was where Ralph sat himself at a sturdy, polished, wooden table. He could see half of Jack behind a counter at the far end of the room indoors, moving around to look for something. Ralph watched him through the glass doors – one open, one closed – for a short while before turning his attention out to the yard.
    He was glad for the air of the outdoors. It made him feel relaxed, which was exactly what he needed after a day of shovelling books around in the narrow spaces of the bookshop. It also made him feel extremely jealous, because from where he sat he could see an oval shaped in-ground swimming pool surrounded by a spotless deck, and a lush, green property that appropriately matched the expanse of the house itself.
    Then Ralph began letting his eyes search around the raised patio for feminine touches of any kind. There were a lot of plants, vines and pottery, but he was not certain if it was exactly feminine or not. Did Jack hire a decorator? He certainly seemed to be able to afford one. The whole place was spotless and modern. Even the rustic-looking table he sat at was clearly a new and precise design, with deliberate imperfections marked into it.
    Ralph looked up as the yard lights blinked on. The sun had set completely. Gazing around at the art, the water and the exotic plants, Ralph decided that it was really a meticulous paradise. The fact was that while the estate was beautiful, it emanated a sort of prudence that Ralph found mildly unappealing.
    Jack placed a glass of dark, red wine on the table in front of Ralph, which surprised him a little because he didn’t hear the other man come onto the porch.
    “Thank you,” said Ralph with a polite smile, lifting the glass.
    “You’re welcome to as much as you like,” Jack responded, setting the bottle and a plate of various sliced cheeses and breads on the table. “But it’s strong, so don’t let it catch you off guard.” He then took a seat across from Ralph and lifted his own glass. “Do you think we should toast to anything?”
    “To Jack Merridew and his fiancé,” Ralph said, trying to hide the acid he felt on his tongue. “I wish to congratulate you on the happy news.”
    Jack looked down a little and Ralph could have sworn he saw some of the colour drain from his face.
    “Don’t congratulate me,” Jack said. “It’s nothing new or worth celebrating.” He looked up then and seemed to have regained his confidence, his and voice brightening a little. “It’s just one of those things, you know?”
    Ralph wasn’t sure what to think or feel about that, other than that he’d surely offended his host. In his uncertainty, he smiled with mild amusement and raised his glass towards Jack’s. “Here’s to those things then. They sure have a funny way of sorting out.”
    To Ralph’s relief, Jack smiled and tapped his glass against Ralph’s. “Very true.”
    They both drank.
    Ralph closed his eyes for a moment and sank back into his chair. “This is delicious,” he professed. He took another sip and sighed deeply. He could already feel the alcohol warming his blood. It certainly was strong, and he was glad for it.
    “I’m very pleased you like it,” Jack said. “Have some bread and cheese, if you like. There is an herbed mushroom and artichoke soup warming on the stove. I hope it’s to your liking.”
    Ralph sat up a little straighter. “That was fast. Impressive.”
    Jack smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t whip it up just now, it’s from last night. The stuff keeps well.”
    Ralph nodded. “It sounds very good.” He took another sip of wine. “Your home is so lovely,” he said absently, looking out to the pool again.
    “Thank you.”
    “I had this once,” Ralph said, shutting his eyes for a moment at the embarrassment of the selfish statement. “I didn’t have it, I mean. My parents did. I just lived it for a little while.”
    “Your family was wealthy. You lived on a ranch, didn’t you?” Jack inquired.
    Ralph looked across at him. Jack was sitting with his head tilted slightly to the side, with his arms resting on the table in front of him. His face was open and calm, and he looked genuinely interested. Spending enough time with a shrink could help a person learn that technique quickly.
    “Yes, I did.” Ralph tried not to think about what ponies’ miens felt like in the clutch of his fingers. He put down his wine and looked into the glass, seeing that half of the liquid was gone already.
    “I’m sure you don’t remember doing so, but you told me that a long time ago,” Jack said. His voice was soft.
    “No, I do remember.” Ralph heard his own cracked, small voice and wondered what was wrong with him. The faintest smell of apples seemed to float up to his nose from his glass of wine. He picked up the glass and took a few more sips. “That was when we were friends. And we both started out so normal and happy, you and I,” Ralph mused softly, taking a piece of bread. “Just regular little brats. And now you’ve been spending your life living to ridiculous social expectations while I’ve been sinking further and further below them. Are you as miserable as I am?”
    “I hope not, for your sake,” he said.
    “What the hell happened to us?”
    Jack looked at Ralph sceptically. He didn’t need to say it.
    “I know. I know.” Ralph took another sip of wine and wiped his bangs from his eyes.
    “I admired you so much.”
    “I admired you, too.”     “Before—“
    “Before,” Ralph agreed, ending it there.
    They had only stated what they each already knew, but it was strange for both of them. It came out quickly, and then it was gone.
    “You seemed like you could do anything,” Jack continued. “Everyone listened to you. And you wanted to be my friend… for a little while…”
    “And look at me now,” Ralph said, still looking into his near empty glass. “I can’t do anything. Nobody listens to me. And look at you.” He couldn’t look at Jack. “You’ve got everything. This amazing house, you’re a business man, you’re engaged…” Ralph’s vision blurred for a moment before he saw a clear drop of liquid land quietly in his wine.
    “Ralph… it’s not exactly—“
    “You’re not even twenty and you’ve got things that most men work their whole lives for.” He picked up his tear-laced wine and sipped at it again, before gulping down the remainder of it. He remembered learning that alcohol was a depressant, which almost made him wish he was able to stop drinking it as easily as he would have liked. It occurred to him as he lowered the glass from his lips that he was soaking up all the hospitality of the host he was blatantly insulting with envious remarks. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, placing his glass down against the table again, only to see more dark, red liquid being poured into it. Ralph looked up to see Jack kindly refilling his glass.
    “Don’t be sorry,” Jack assured him after both of their glasses had been refilled. “You’re absolutely right.” He waited for their eyes to meet before continuing. “I don’t deserve any of this. I didn’t work for it. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy it, most of the time. I just got it. And my engagement isn’t… exactly fairy-tale perfect either.”
    Ralph’s heart sped up a little. “Really? Why?” How interested was he really, and how interested did he sound? He realized how intrusive he might have seemed, but Jack had invited the question.
    “Like I said… it’s just one of those things. It kind of came with the property.” He drank.
    Ralph tried to think of how that made sense. “I don’t understand. Do you mean that literally?”
    “It’s been arranged since before either of us even knew what marriage was,” Jack said.
    Ralph took pause. “That’s… that’s unfair.” He was trying to wrap his mind around the concept. It was not unheard of. But he still wasn’t certain whether to feel good or bad about it. He wished he didn’t feel anything about it.
    “Yes, well. It works out all right. Between the two of our family names, we get enough respect to find decent supper reservations at last minute, at least. We work well as a couple, I suppose.” Jack swirled his drink around in his glass. “Living with each other works out nicely as well. She takes care of the house, when she’s home, and she helps me keep some things organized when business gets hectic. At the company, of course. Not the shop. I bring home her shopping allowance. The sex isn’t… bad either.” Jack opened his mouth to elaborate, but shook his head and moved passed the issue. “We just couldn’t function as we do now without being engaged, it would be unseemly in the public eye. Of course, if we were never engaged in the first place, we wouldn’t have to do the things that fiancés do, and we’d both be much happier.”
    Ralph should have had another drink before asking the next question. “Do you love her?” He hid his face in his glass again.
    “Of course I don’t love her, Ralph, the whole thing is ridiculous.” Jack shook his head, leaning back a little. His response had come very quickly. “It’s just… a mess.”
    Ralph was sure to carefully articulate his next question. “Does she know about me?” he asked slowly.
    Jack looked at Ralph in an odd way that forced Ralph to look back into his glass. The question he posed held something that could have been dangerous.
    “No, she doesn’t. I don’t want her to,” he admitted.
    “Oh,” Ralph said quietly, nodding. He wasn’t expecting any particular answer, but this one satisfied him.
    “Because you’re a part of my past,” Jack explained. “You were, anyways. And she doesn’t know about any of that. Of course, her family knows. Not about you, specifically, of course. About… the island. They couldn’t have not known, but they never told her. I don’t like to talk about… all those things. And the people. They’re so far away now.”
    Jack had just contradicted himself, and Ralph didn’t know why.
    In the silence that followed, Ralph reached out to take another piece of bread, although he hadn’t eaten the piece he’d already taken and set in front of him.
    “Ralph,” Jack began, leaning foreword slightly, “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re speaking with me like this.”
    After a moment Ralph nodded a little. He examined Jack’s face. The words sounded calculated and misplaced somehow, but Ralph decided that it was due to nerves. In a few strange moments, as Ralph studied Jack’s expression, he saw Jack studying his. What was he looking for? Ralph had to say something.
    “Did you ask me here to talk?” Ralph asked finally. He had to know why anyone would plan to discuss gruesome childhood traumas over a charming supper on the patio. “In the shop today, you said you needed to talk about it… and now you’re essentially saying that all that is irrelevant.”
    Jack seemed to consider this for a moment. Every word in the response that followed was slightly emphasized and spoken rather slowly. “I think we have a lot to share with each other.” He was holding firm eye contact.
    Ralph felt his pulse quicken. He could only think of one more question to ask. “When did you say your fiancé is returning from her trip?” he enquired casually.
    “Tomorrow evening,” responded Jack automatically. Then more slowly: “We have time.”
    Those words echoed in Ralph’s ears. “May I have some more wine, please?” he asked, pushing his glass foreword.
    Jack grinned. “Certainly.”
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Cowardice