One of the funniest thing my sister and I did was that time we watch Kong the Skull Island for the first time and we got to that scene where Toby Kebbell's character is alone and trying to hide from Kong and both her and I started speculating that maybe he will be the one that bonds with Kong instead of Brie Larson. "Finally, a gay King Kong retalling!" We got so into a bit that we legit yelled queerbait when he died the next scene
“You feeling alright, Ire?” James asked as we stepped out of the airport, back in England.
I shook my head. “I miss them already.” I looked up at him.
He sighed and wrapped an arm around me, letting me bury my head into his shoulder. He sighed and flagged down a cab.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.” He held the cab door open for me.
I sighed as I slid in. He helped the driver with our bags before slipping in next to me. When our parents died, they had left the house to us. James had his own apartment, which is where I lived while he was gone, fighting in the war.
“Which one, Jay?” I asked after he leaned back, having given the driver a destination.
“Back to the house.”
I huffed. “Why there?”
“Because, Irene. We need to sort things out.”
“Sort what out? We went…” I lowered my voice and leaned in. “We went, we almost died, we made it out, we got paid. End of story.” I settled back. “What is there to sort out?”
He sighed and turned to look at me. “You’re eighteen. You’re not gonna live in England with me forever.”
“James…”
“Unless that was the plan, in which case, I am entirely delighted.”
I sighed, looking out the window with my chin in my hand. It was raining, as it always did in London.
“You and Slivko are in love with each other, anybody could see it. I don’t think you want to stay 4,000 miles away from him.”
Of course, I wanted to go live with Reg more than anything. I wanted to be close to Jack, close to his family, and I wanted to be able to see Stephen if things went well. But James wasn’t going to leave England. This place was, and always would be, his home.
I didn't seem to have the same luxury.
TEN DAYS LATER
“Do you think your mom would be sad if we sold this painting?” I called down the wooden stairwell, holding the large canvas in my hands.
“Which one?” James called back, probably from the kitchen.
“The one of my dad and I.” I trotted down the steps, showing him the painting.
He cringed. It was one that his mother had commissioned after Stephen was sent off to boarding school. My father and I were dressed in a military outfit and hunting gear, respectively. I had my crossbow in my hands, and my father had a rifle slung over his shoulder. I never quite understood why she had wanted it.
“No, I don’t think Mum would mind if she knew the truth about him.”
I chuffed. “Thank god, I cannot stand seeing this thing outside my bedroom door.”
James chuckled from the other side of the kitchen island and slid a mug of tea my way. I set the painting down on the ground, leaning against the counter.
“Mint tea, two sugars, just how you like it.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks, Jay.”
Since we had gotten home from the island, I had been having non stop nightmares. It felt like a terribly edited montage. One night, it would be the crash, the next I would dream that our first encounter with a Skull Crawler ended with Jack dead. Then it all melded together. Cole, the tooth through my arm, watching people get eaten. The one I had the night before was new, and I was shocked that it took so long for my brain to conjure it up.
Reg, dying, in my arms, at the hands of Packard.
It was, by far, the worst one yet. James had woken up to my stifled sobs. I wanted to call Reg, but we were five hours ahead of them, and he needed the rest, probably more than I did.
“Ire?” James called, waving his hand in front of my face.
“Sorry.” I shook my head, coming back to reality.
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Thinking about my nightmares.”
“We should get you a therapist.”
I snorted. “What’re they gonna say? Oh, you seem to be experiencing trauma. As if that’s anything new.” I shuddered, eyeing the painting.
James sighed, sitting down on one of the stools. He pulled out another one, further from the painting, and patted on it. “Come sit, Ire.”
I shuffled over and settled into the stool, blowing air onto my tea.
“So… I talked to Chapman, who talked to Cole’s wife. Stephen is still living with them. She said that he still talks about you. She suggested that we head out extra early.”
“Why?” I sipped my tea.
“So that you two can see each other, before the funeral.”
“Fuck, is that a good idea?” I felt my eyes bug out of my head.
“He misses you.” James gave me a sad look.
“God.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I… is he okay?”
James shrugged. “I didn’t ask much, I don’t think Chapman did either. We just all think that you two should see each other before the funeral. It might make it easier for him.” He sighed. “Less of a shock, less to process all at once.”
“Does he know?”
“Know what, Ire?”
“Does he know that our dad is dead?”
James paused.
“Does he? Because he adored that man, Jay. I don’t wanna have to be the bad guy who tells him his dad’s dead. Okay?”
James nodded. “I’m not sure if he knows. But it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. Okay? I promise.”
I scoffed, pushing the rest of my tea away.
“Irene-”
“I’m gonna go toss this painting into the sell pile, and then I’m gonna go shower.”
“Irene…” He reached for my hand.
“Jay, I…” I pulled my hand out of his reach and shook my head. “I’m tired, okay? I’m tired of the shocking news, and I’m tired of thinking about people who are dead. I’m tired of this already, and Stephen and I haven’t even seen each other.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Honestly, the only thing I want right now is to lay in bed with Reg and read a book.”
James sighed, holding his arm out for a hug. I trudged to his side and rested my chin on his shoulder. I began to cry the second my skin hit the fabric of his shirt. He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back as I sobbed.
“I feel so terrible and I don’t even know why, Jay. We survived, I should be happy.”
“You’re traumatized, Irene. A lot happened on that island. And now, knowing that Stephen is alive, it’s bringing up trauma you sustained during your childhood.”
I sniffed. “This sucks.”
“I know, Bitsy.” He cooed. “We’ll find you good help. I promise you we will. But I really do believe that seeing Stephen before Cole’s funeral would help a bit.”
I sighed in his hold, wiping my tears. “When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll finish packing my things.”
“Still gonna go shower?”
I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck and returning the long hug. “Yeah.”
“I’ll take care of the painting. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Jay.”
He kissed the side of my head, and my bottom lip quivered once more.
I stepped out of the shower and shook my hair out. I tugged the plastic cover off my cast and tossed it into the sink. I no long had to wear the sling, but I still had a cast for a little bit. My first instinct was to wonder if I would be able to use my crossbow. Then I remembered that I was no longer on a deadly island, no longer with a father who thought hunting humans was a game, and no longer on my own in London.
I finished drying off and got dressed, throwing on the shirt I had worn when we had all gone our separate ways. It was Reg’s, he had given it to me before we had gotten off the ship. Most nights, I slept hugging his army jacket. It still smelled like him, even though James had made me put it through the wash. In hindsight, I probably did not want my bed smelling like the island.
The phone on my nightstand rang, and I grabbed the hairbrush from my bathroom counter before sitting on my bed.
“Hello?” I put the phone up to my ear and began to brush my hair out.
“Hey, doll.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that rose from my chest. “Hi, love.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” I rushed to finish brushing my hair. “I keep having nightmares.”
I heard him sigh on the other end. “They won’t end anytime soon, doll.”
“I know.” I tossed the hairbrush onto the counter and rolled onto my stomach, kicking my legs up.
“I’m sorry, doll.”
I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “It’s okay, love. James said we would find a therapist, so…” I sighed, trailing off.
“That’s good, right?”
I huffed. “I think so. I’m not sure. I’ve been through so much at this point… I dunno if a therapist could be much help.”
“I’m sure it couldn’t hurt, doll.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point. What about you, how’re you doing? How’s your leg?”
“I can walk without crutches now.” I could hear his grin.
I giggled. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, love.”
There was a beat of silence, and then he sighed.
“What’s wrong, Reg?”
“I just really miss you is all.”
My heart clenched in my chest, and tears began to form in my eyes. “I miss you too.”
“You remember, how, at the airport, I said I was gonna ask you to marry me?”
I giggled, butterflies floating in my stomach. “Yeah, I do.”
“If I were to ask you… for real… would you say yes?”
“God, Reg, without a doubt. Yes, of course I would.”
He chuckled. “Still no kids?”
“No, that’s a non-negotiable.” I shook my head. “No kids, ever.”
“Never?” He repeated incredulously.
“Never. I don’t know how to be a parent.”
“Why not?” He whined playfully.
I took a breath. “Never had a good example.”
“I’m guessing that’s the reason two four year olds ended up living in the amazon with tattoos on their arms?”
I chuckled. “Yeah. My mom, she died when we were little. Less than two years old. I don’t remember her, I’m not sure if Stephen does.”
“I’m sorry, doll.”
I shook my head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. About her.” I sighed. “My dad used to say that… the only good thing that came out of her dying was that he could travel the world with us.”
“That’s a fucked up thing to say to a kid.” Reg practically growled, and I could sense his anger through the phone.
I scoffed. “Yeah, especially when she’s only five years old and all she wants is her mom.”
“Your dad sounds like a horrible person.”
I laughed.
“Sorry, that was kinda harsh.”
“No, it’s the truth. My dad’s the reason I know how to use my crossbow. He um…” I trailed off. “Actually, no. This is kinda heavy, I shouldn’t-”
“Irene. If you’re comfortable telling, I’m comfortable listening. I’m here for you okay? No matter what.”
I grabbed his jacket from the hook next to the bed and held it to my chest, curling up tightly.
“He used to… um… when we were six, he gave us weapons as gifts. My crossbow, it used to be his. He gave Stephen… a katana that he… took from a Japanese soldier that he killed.”
I heard him mumble a curse on the other end, and I fell back into the bed, wishing he was here to hold me.
“He would set us loose in the woods, and hunt us down.” I shook my head. “He used to say that he was just trying to keep us safe. Keep us prepared. We were ten years old, I… I still don’t get it. I don’t get what he thought he was trying to protect us from. He was so messed up. I don’t know. Maybe it was the war. I just know that my parents shouldn’t have had us.”
“Don’t say that, doll.”
“Cole adopted Stephen.” I blurted out, feeling tears stream down my face.
“What?”
“My dad sent him to a boarding school. Both of us, together, we were too much to handle. So James started taking care of me, and my dad sent Stephen away. We tried to find him when my dad died, but… it was like he disappeared.”
“Cole didn’t talk about his family much. But I know that all of his kids are adopted.”
“Exactly. Stephen’s one of them. That’s what Cole told me, before…” I looked at the crumpled polaroid that was pinned to my bedroom wall. “He gave me the picture, and he said that he had a son named Stephen. That he was adopted. And that I reminded him… of Stephen.”
“Does that mean…”
“He’s gonna be at Cole’s funeral.”
“Shit.” I heard him hiss.
I looked at the time. It was 2pm here, which meant it was 9am there.
“Do you have to go?”
“I’m so sorry, doll, I-”
“It’s okay. I know you’ve got stuff to do today. We’ll see each other in a few days anyways.”
“I love you. So much.”
I smiled softly. “I love you too, Reg. Thanks for listening to me.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Thanks for trusting me, doll.”
“Reg, let’s go!” I could hear his older brother, Kenny, on the other end.
“Go, before he takes your car and leaves you stranded.” I giggled. “I love you. Be safe.”
“Always, doll. Kenny, fuck off.” He lowered his tone for that as he hissed. “Okay, doll, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
I hung up the phone and sighed, turning to lay on my side. These next four days could not drag on any longer.
Am I the only one that was horribly disappointed in Kong: Skull Island beCaUse they had such an impeccable opportunity to chuck the stereotypical 'big monkey likes pretty kind girl' in the bin and instead have Kong rescue and become pals with Jack Chapman
Chapman was alone, he was scared, he was in dangerous territory and absolutely needed an ape friend to have his back. Terrified army boy tosses his gun and travels with his new bro, perfection
bUt nO
He gets killed unceremoniously and pointlessly when Kong could've been his friend but it's fine I'm fine
Jack Chapman’s mother, Linda, has filed a wrongful death suit against Dylan Hafertepen, Daniel Balderas Hafertepen, Charles Osborn, Matthew Scott, and Philip Myers.
Shout out to Blake Montgomery of The Daily Beast for reporting on Jack’s death, Linda’s journey for closure and this zinger at the end of the article:
