Lord of the Flies - William Golding [66]
"Piggy! Stop a minute!"
"I got the conch. I'm going to that Jack Merridew an' tell him, I am."
"You'll get hurt."
"What can he do more than he has? I'll tell him what's what. You let me carry the conch, Ralph. I'll show him the one thing he hasn't got."
Piggy paused for a moment and peered round at the dim figures. The shape of the old assembly, trodden in the grass, listened to him.
"I'm going to him with this conch in my hands. I'm going to hold it out. Look, I'm goin' to say, you're stronger than I am and you haven't got asthma. You can see, I'm goin' to say, and with both eyes. But I don't ask for my glasses back, not as a favor. I don't ask you to be a sport, I'll say, not because you're strong, but because what's right's right. Give me my glasses, I'm going to say―you got to!"
Piggy ended, flushed and trembling. He pushed the conch quickly into Ralph's hands as though in a hurry to be rid of it and wiped the tears from his eyes. The green light was gentle about them and the conch lay at Ralph's feet, fragile and white. A single drop of water that had escaped Piggy's fingers now flashed on the delicate curve like a star.
At last Ralph sat up straight and drew back his hair.
"All right. I mean―you can try if you like. We'll go with you."
"He'll be painted," said Sam, timidly. "You know how he'll be―"
"―he won't think much of us―"
"―if he gets waxy we've had it―"
Ralph scowled at Sam. Dimly he remembered something Simon had said to him once, by the rocks.
"Don't be silly," he said. And then he added quickly, "Let's go."
He held out the conch to Piggy who flushed, this time with pride.
"You must carry it."
"When we're ready I'll carry it―"
Piggy sought in his mind for words to convey his passionate willingness to carry the conch against all odds.
"I don't mind. I'll be glad, Ralph, only I'll have to be led."
Ralph put the conch back on the shining log.
"We better eat and then get ready."
They made their way to the devastated fruit trees. Piggy was helped to his food and found some by touch. While they ate, Ralph thought of the afternoon.
"We'll be like we were. We'll wash―"
Sam gulped down a mouthful and protested.
"But we bathe every day!"
Ralph looked at the filthy objects before him and sighed.
"We ought to comb our hair. Only it's too long."
"I've got both socks left in the shelter," said Eric, "so we could pull them over our heads like caps, sort of."
"We could find some stuff," said Piggy, "and tie your hair back."
"Like a girl!"
"No. 'Course not."
"Then we must go as we are," said Ralph, "and they won't be any better."
Eric made a detaining gesture.
"But they'll be painted! You know how it is." The others nodded. They understood only too well the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint brought.
"Well, we won't be painted," said Ralph, "because we aren't savages."
Samneric looked at each other.
"All the same―"
Ralph shouted.
"No paint!"
He tried to remember.
"Smoke," he said, "we want smoke."
He turned on the twins fiercely.
"I said 'smoke'! We've got to have smoke."
There was silence, except for the multitudinous murmur of the bees. As last Piggy spoke, kindly.
" 'Course we have. 'Cos the smoke's a signal and we can't be rescued if we don't have smoke."
"I knew that!" shouted Ralph. He pulled his arm away from Piggy. "Are you suggesting- -?"
"I'm jus' saying what you always say," said Piggy hastily. "I'd thought for a moment―"
"I hadn't," said Ralph loudly. "I knew it all the time. I hadn't forgotten."
Piggy nodded propitiatingly.
"You're chief, Ralph. You remember everything."
"I hadn't forgotten."
" 'Course not."
The twins were examining Ralph curiously, as though they were seeing him for the first time.
They set off along the beach in formation. Ralph went first, limping a little, his spear carried over one shoulder. He saw things partially, through the tremble of the heat haze over the flashing sands, and his own long hair and injuries. Behind him came the twins, worried now for a while but full of unquenchable vitality. They said little but trailed the butts of their wooden spears; for Piggy had found that, by looking down and shielding his tired sight from the sun, he could just see these moving along the sand. He walked between the trailing butts, therefore, the conch held carefully between his two hands. The boys made a compact little group that moved over the beach, four plate-like shadows dancing and mingling beneath them. There was no sign left of the storm, and the beach was swept clean like a blade that has been scoured. The sky and the mountain were at an immense distance, shimmering in the heat; and the reef was lifted by mirage, floating in a kind of silver pool halfway up the sky.