Fools

Seven

Jack knocked once before opening the door to Ralph's house.He had his sketchbook under his arm and one of his drawing pencils tucked behind his ear. He stepped inside and slid off his shoes so he could place them neatly on the shoe rack next to Ralph's. He called out Ralph's name, but didn't get an answer. He shrugged it off, thinking that he was reading or maybe sleeping. He climbed the stairs to Ralph's room and tapped lightly on the door.

"It's open." Ralph's voice was just barely heard through the thick door. Jack opened it to find Ralph sitting on his bed, staring at the wall ahead of him. His back was hunched over as his chin rested on his knuckles. There were bags under his eyes and a blank look to his features. Jack looked at Ralph, not sure what to do right away.

Ralph turned his gaze to Jack and he moved to pick up his journal. He held it numbly with one hand, making Jack swallow hard.

"You read my book." He said.

Jack felt a surge of panic as he started to babble out an excuse as to why he read it, but the truth is, he didn't even know why. He just did, but he didn't know if that was an appropriate answer. Ralph listened to him for a few moments, but soon raised his hand to make Jack cease his rambling.

"This book is very personal to me. I wish that instead of snooping through it that you had just asked me something. You trust me right?" Jack nodded. "Then come to me, don't snoop through my things." He said. His voice was stern, but not aggressive in anyway.

"I'm sorry." Jack said. Ralph only nodded his head, showing that he didn't quite forgive him yet but would accept his apology for the time being. He didn't think that it was okay for Jack to take it upon himself to read his journal, but he didn't want to continue to act angry when he really wasn't.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes until Ralph noticed a hardcover book in Jack's hands. "What's that?" Ralph asked.

Jack felt his cheeks heat up as he handed Ralph his book. "I wanted to show you some of my art work, or at least the stuff I could sneak out of the house without my dad getting suspicious." He said. "You asked the other week if you could look at some, so I brought you my last sketchbook."

Ralph smiled at Jack being so shy of his art. It wasn't often that he saw that side of Jack because of how confident his personality is. "Are you sure?" Ralph asked, holding the book carefully.

"I went through yours, so it's only fair." Jack said. Ralph opened the cover of the book and read over Jack's scratchy handwriting. It had the month and year in which he got the book. The first few drawings are of still lifes, mostly jars or a variety of household objects. There was one page of practicing hand and arm positions. Ralph was about to turn the page, but Jack put his hand out to stop me.

"They um, they start to get gory around this point." Jack warned, a blush dusting his cheeks.

"Oh, okay." Ralph nodded his head and turned to the next page. There was a drawing with a small boy; he knew his face but not his name. There was a mark shaded into the side of his face.

"Who-" Ralph furrowed his eyebrows. "Who is this?"

"That's the little boy," Jack said. "That's the little boy with the mulberry birthmark." Ralph furrowed his eyebrows.

"Was he on the island?" He tried to think of which littlun he was.

"He was the first one to die, but the only one who took notice was Piggy." Jack explained. "There was that big fire, then after I broke his glasses."

Ralph nodded his head and turned the next page. This picture was drawn in color with exceptional details. It was a large dragon like creature standing on it's hind legs, wings expanded as smoke escaped from it's nostrils. The body was more snake like, gently curling around a boulder. The scales were colored black with sharp, yellow teeth. In the top corner, Jack had scribbled 'The Beast'.

"This one is really good, Jack." Ralph said. It was a lame response, but any thing he had said to describe the picture would not have done it justice at all. He continued to flip through the book, his eyes scanning over the pages. Jack was nervous most of the time, knowing that there was a possibility that Ralph would react poorly to some of his pictures. Ralph paused at some, asking questions now and again.

***

That night, Ralph's aunt came home early from work. She slammed open the door, calling for both boys after seeing Jack's shoes next to Ralph's on the shoe rack. She had a crinkled flyer in her hand, slightly damp from the rain. The two teens came running down the stairs, Ralph still in his pajamas from the night before and Jack in his regular clothes.

"Do you two want to go somewhere next weekend? It's a bit out of town, but I can drive you if you want to participate." She rambled, handing the flyer to Ralph. It looked like it was written by hand and copied on a photocopier. It was for a protest movement.

"You want us to protest?" Jack asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"If you want to, I thought you might be interested." Anastasia said.

"There's going to be a lot of people there." Ralph said. "And maybe even police. Are you sure you want us to go there?"

"As long as you don't do drugs or cause trouble, then I'm okay with it."