The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and
began to pick his way toward the lagoon. Though he had taken off his
school sweater and trailed it now from one hand, his grey shirt stuck to
him and his hair was plastered to his forehead. All round him the long
scar smashed into the jungle was a bath of heat. He was clambering
heavily among the creepers and broken trunks when a bird, a vision of
red and yellow, flashed upwards with a witch-like cry; and this cry was
echoed by another.
gHi!h it said. gWait a minute!h The undergrowth at the side of the scar
was shaken and a multitude of raindrops fell pattering.
gWait a minute,h the voice said. gI got caught up.h
The fair boy stopped and jerked his stockings with an automatic gesture
that made the jungle seem for a moment like the Home Counties.
The voice spoke again.
gI canft hardly move with all these creeper things.h
The owner of the voice came backing out of the undergrowth so that
twigs scratched on a greasy wind-breaker. The naked crooks of his knees
were plump, caught and scratched by thorns. He bent down, removed
the thorns carefully, and turned around. He was shorter than the fair boy
and very fat. He came forward, searching out safe lodgments for his feet,
and then looked up through thick spectacles.
gWherefs the man with the megaphone?h
The fair boy shook his head.
gThis is an island. At least I think itfs an island. Thatfs a reef out in the
sea. Perhaps there arenft any grownups anywhere.h
The fat boy looked startled.
gThere was that pilot. But he wasnft in the passenger cabin, he was up
in front.h
The fair boy was peering at the reef through screwed-up eyes.
gAll them other kids,h the fat boy went on. gSome of them must have
got out. They must have, mustnft they?h
The fair boy began to pick his way as casually as possible toward the
water. He tried to be offhand and not too obviously uninterested, but the
fat boy hurried after him.
gArenft there any grownups at all?h
gI donft think so.h
The fair boy said this solemnly; but then the delight of a realized am-
bition overcame him. In the middle of the scar he stood on his head and
grinned at the reversed fat boy.
gNo grownups!h
The fat boy thought for a moment.
gThat pilot.h
The fair boy allowed his feet to come down and sat on the steamy
earth.
gHe must have flown off after he dropped us. He couldnft land here.
Not in a place with wheels.h
gWe was attacked!h
gHefll be back all right.h
The fat boy shook his head.
gWhen we was coming down I looked through one of them windows. I
saw the other part of the plane. There were flames coming out of it.h
He looked up and down the scar.
gAnd this is what the cabin done.h
The fair boy reached out and touched the jagged end of a trunk. For a
moment he looked interested.
gWhat happened to it?h he asked. gWherefs it got to now?h
gThat storm dragged it out to sea. It wasnft half dangerous with all
them tree trunks falling. There must have been some kids still in it.h He
hesitated for a moment, then spoke again.
gWhatfs your name?h
gRalph.h
The fat boy waited to be asked his name in turn but this proffer of
acquaintance was not made; the fair boy called Ralph smiled vaguely,
stood up, and began to make his way once more toward the lagoon. The
fat boy hung steadily at his shoulder.
gI expect therefs a lot more of us scattered about. You havenft seen any
others, have you?h
Ralph shook his head and increased his speed. Then he tripped over a
branch and came down with a crash.
The fat boy stood by him, breathing hard.
gMy auntie told me not to run,h he explained, gon account of my
asthma.h
gAss-mar?h
gThatfs right. Canft catch my breath. I was the only boy in our school
what had asthma,h said the fat boy with a touch of pride. gAnd Ifve been
wearing specs since I was three.h
He took off his glasses and held them out to Ralph, blinking and smil-
ing, and then started to wipe them against his grubby wind-breaker. An
expression of pain and inward concentration altered the pale contours of
his face. He smeared the sweat from his cheeks and quickly adjusted the
spectacles on his nose.
gThem fruit.h
He glanced round the scar.
gThem fruit,h he said, gI expect—h
He put on his glasses, waded away from Ralph, and crouched down
among the tangled foliage.
gIfll be out again in just a minute—h
Ralph disentangled himself cautiously and stole away through the branches.
In a few seconds the fat boyfs grunts were behind him and he was hur-
rying toward the screen that still lay between him and the lagoon. He
climbed over a broken trunk and was out of the jungle.
The shore was fledged with palm trees. These stood or leaned or re-
clined against the light and their green feathers were a hundred feet up in
the air. The ground beneath them was a bank covered with coarse grass,
torn everywhere by the upheavals of fallen trees, scattered with decaying
coconuts and palm saplings. Behind this was the darkness of the forest
proper and the open space of the scar. Ralph stood, one hand against a
grey trunk, and screwed up his eyes against the shimmering water. Out
there, perhaps a mile away, the white surf flinked on a coral reef, and
beyond that the open sea was dark blue. Within the irregular arc of coral
the lagoon was still as a mountain lake—blue of all shades and shadowy
green and purple. The beach between the palm terrace and the water
was a thin stick, endless apparently, for to Ralphfs left the perspectives of
palm and beach and water drew to a point at infinity; and always, almost
visible, was the heat.
He jumped down from the terrace. The sand was thick over his black
shoes and the heat hit him. He became conscious of the weight of clothes,
kicked his shoes off fiercely and ripped off each stocking with its elastic
garter in a single movement. Then he leapt back on the terrace, pulled
off his shirt, and stood there among the skull-like coconuts with green
shadows from the palms and the forest sliding over his skin. He undid
the snake-clasp of his belt, lugged off his shorts and pants, and stood
there naked, looking at the dazzling beach and the water.
He was old enough, twelve years and a few months, to have lost the
prominent tummy of childhood and not yet old enough for adolescence
to have made him awkward. You could see now that he might make a
boxer, as far as width and heaviness of shoulders went, but there was a
mildness about his mouth and eyes that proclaimed no devil. He patted
the palm trunk softly, and, forced at last to believe in the reality of the
island laughed delightedly again and stood on his head. He turned neatly
on to his feet, jumped down to the beach, knelt and swept a double
armful of sand into a pile against his chest. Then he sat back and looked
at the water with bright, excited eyes.
gRalph—h
The fat boy lowered himself over the terrace and sat down carefully,
using the edge as a seat.
gIfm sorry I been such a time. Them fruit—h
He wiped his glasses and adjusted them on his button nose. The frame
had made a deep, pink gVh on the bridge. He looked critically at Ralphfs
golden body and then down at his own clothes. He laid a hand on the
end of a zipper that extended down his chest.
gMy auntie—h
Then he opened the zipper with decision and pulled the whole wind-
breaker over his head.
gThere!h
Ralph looked at him sidelong and said nothing.
gI expect wefll want to know all their names, hsaid the fat boy, gand
make a list. We ought to have a meeting.h
Ralph did not take the hint so the fat boy was forced to continue.
gI donft care what they call me,h he said confidentially, gso long as they
donft call me what they used to call me at school.h
Ralph was faintly interested.
gWhat was that?h
The fat boy glanced over his shoulder, then leaned toward Ralph.
He whispered.
gThey used to call me Piggy.h
Ralph shrieked with laughter. He jumped up.
gPiggy! Piggy!h
gRalph—please!h
Piggy clasped his hands in apprehension.
gI said I didnft want—h
gPiggy! Piggy!h
Ralph danced out into the hot air of the beach and then returned as a
fighter-plane, with wings swept back, and machine-gunned Piggy.
gSche-aa-ow!h
He dived in the sand at Piggyfs feet and lay there laughing.
gPiggy!h
Piggy grinned reluctantly, pleased despite himself at even this much
recognition.
gSo long as you donft tell the others—h
Ralph giggled into the sand. The expression of pain and concentration
returned to Piggyfs face.
gHalf a secf.h
He hastened back into the forest. Ralph stood up and trotted along to
the right.
Here the beach was interrupted abruptly by the square motif of the
landscape; a great platform of pink granite thrust up uncompromisingly
through forest and terrace and sand and lagoon to make a raised jetty
four feet high. The top of this was covered with a thin layer of soil and
coarse grass and shaded with young palm trees. There was not enough
soil for them to grow to any height and when they reached perhaps
twenty feet they fell and dried, forming a criss-cross pattern of trunks,
very convenient to sit on. The palms that still stood made a green roof,
covered on the underside with a quivering tangle of reflections from the
lagoon. Ralph hauled himself onto this platform, noted the coolness and
shade, shut one eye, and decided that the shadows on his body were re-
ally green. He picked his way to the seaward edge of the platform and
stood looking down into the water. It was clear to the bottom and bright
with the efflorescence of tropical weed and coral. A school of tiny, glitter-
ing fish flicked hither and thither. Ralph spoke to himself, sounding the
bass strings of delight.
gWhizzoh!h
Beyond the platform there was more enchantment. Some act of God—
a typhoon perhaps, or the storm that had accompanied his own arrival—
had banked sand inside the lagoon so that there was a long, deep pool
in the beach with a high ledge of pink granite at the further end. Ralph
had been deceived before now by the specious appearance of depth in
a beach pool and he approached this one preparing to be disappointed.
But the island ran true to form and the incredible pool, which clearly was
only invaded by the sea at high tide, was so deep at one end as to be
dark green. Ralph inspected the whole thirty yards carefully and then
plunged in. The water was warmer than his blood and he might have
been swimming in a huge bath.
Piggy appeared again, sat on the rocky ledge, and watched Ralphfs
green and white body enviously.
gYou canft half swim.h
gPiggy.h
Piggy took off his shoes and socks, ranged them carefully on the ledge,
and tested the water with one toe.
gItfs hot!h
gWhat did you expect?h
gI didnft expect nothing. My auntie—h
gSucks to your auntie!h
Ralph did a surface dive and swam under water with his eyes open; the
sandy edge of the pool loomed up like a hillside. He turned over, holding
his nose, and a golden light danced and shattered just over his face. Piggy
was looking determined and began to take off his shorts. Presently he was
palely and fatly naked. He tiptoed down the sandy side of the pool, and
sat there up to his neck in water smiling proudly at Ralph.
gArenft you going to swim?h
Piggy shook his head.
gI canft swim. I wasnft allowed. My asthma—h
gSucks to your ass-mar!h
Piggy bore this with a sort of humble patience.
gYou canft half swim well.h
Ralph paddled backwards down the slope, immersed his mouth and
blew a jet of water into the air. Then he lifted his chin and spoke.
gI could swim when I was five. Daddy taught me. Hefs a commander
in the Navy. When he gets leave hefll come and rescue us. Whatfs your
father?h
Piggy flushed suddenly.
gMy dadfs dead,h he said quickly, gand my mum—h
He took off his glasses and looked vainly for something with which to
clean them.
gI used to live with my auntie. She kept a candy store. I used to get
ever so many candies. As many as I liked. Whenfll your dad rescue us?h
gSoon as he can.h
Piggy rose dripping from the water and stood naked, cleaning his glasses
with a sock. The only sound that reached them now through the heat of
the morning was the long, grinding roar of the breakers on the reef.
gHow does he know wefre here?h
Ralph lolled in the water. Sleep enveloped him like the swathing mi-
rages that were wrestling with the brilliance of the lagoon.
gHow does he know wefre here?h
Because, thought Ralph, because, because. The roar from the reef be-
came very distant.
gTheyfd tell him at the airport.h
Piggy shook his head, put on his flashing glasses and looked down at
Ralph.
gNot them. Didnft you hear what the pilot said? About the atom bomb?
Theyfre all dead.h
Ralph pulled himself out of the water, stood facing Piggy, and consid-
ered this unusual problem.
Piggy persisted.
gThis an island, isnft it?h
gI climbed a rock,h said Ralph slowly, gand I think this is an island.h
gTheyfre all dead,h said Piggy, ganf this is an island. Nobody donft know
wefre here. Your dad donft know, nobody donft know—h
His lips quivered and the spectacles were dimmed with mist.
gWe may stay here till we die.h
With that word the heat seemed to increase till it became a threatening
weight and the lagoon attacked them with a blinding effulgence.
gGet my clothes,h muttered Ralph. gAlong there.h
He trotted through the sand, enduring the sunfs enmity, crossed the
platform and found his scattered clothes. To put on a grey shirt once
more was strangely pleasing. Then he climbed the edge of the platform
and sat in the green shade on a convenient trunk. Piggy hauled himself
up, carrying most of his clothes under his arms. Then he sat carefully on
a fallen trunk near the little cliff that fronted the lagoon; and the tangled
reflections quivered over him.
Presently he spoke.
gWe got to find the others. We got to do something.h
Ralph said nothing. Here was a coral island. Protected from the sun,
ignoring Piggyfs ill-omened talk, he dreamed pleasantly.
Piggy insisted.
gHow many of us are there?h
Ralph came forward and stood by Piggy.
gI donft know.h