Authors: Anna Katmore
Puckering his lips, he considers. “Okay. We can do that.” Suddenly, his face lights up. “Tomorrow!”
“No, wait! I have to—” But it’s too late. Peter somersaults in the air and comes down to reach under my arms, cutting me off. I have no chance to escape. He lifts me up again and flies with me to the top of the tree. I scream all the way. When he lands on a thick branch, he waggles his eyebrows. “Let me show you our home.”
Home? I try to catch a glimpse around me to make out a house somewhere close, but apart from the thick jungle I can’t see anything. And then Peter hustles me forward. “What the hell—” I drop down into the middle of the tree. Everything goes dark. It seems like I’m falling right through the trunk, which is outright crazy. What weird land is this?
I kamikaze-fall a few feet then feel the smooth surface of a slide at my back. It turns me in a new direction. Round and round in a spiral I go down, and if this wasn’t the scariest moment since I fell through the clouds, it would actually be fun. The slide leads into the center of the tree that seems even bigger from the inside. On my mad descent, I scan the tree’s interior with wide open eyes.
The trunk is completely carved out. Small windows are built into the bark, and pictures are hanging on the round-about wall. Cozy looking sleeping booths are hewn into the sides where big branches sprout from the trunk, and rope ladders lead down from each of them. This is amazing.
This is insane!
The slide ends abruptly and I’m catapulted into a trampoline. Lying spread-eagle, I breathe hard and wait until the wobbling of the net stops. Jeez, what a ride!
“Make way!” I barely had time to gather myself, when Peter’s warning booms through the inside. A moment later, Loney, the boy with a fox-fur hat that still has ears, comes sliding down my way. Peter must have lifted him to the top of the tree like me.
Panicky, I crawl off the trampoline and wait until all the guys have come down, one by one. Peter is the last to follow. He, of course, doesn’t climb out of the trampoline but simply glides down through the air right in front of me. Bowing deep, he sweeps his arm sideways. “Welcome to the empire of Pan.”
“Your empire consists of an entire tree?” I mock him.
“It is. But you haven’t seen all of it yet.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me along with him. “Here’s where we eat when we’re lucky on the rabbit hunt.”
The three seconds he grants me to look around the spacious area dominated by a huge, round wooden table with eight tree-trunk chops for chairs hardly seem enough to take in the full beauty of this place. We walk on to a spot right behind the trampoline that’s plastered with mattresses. Lots of ropes and hammocks hang around.
Peter catches me unawares and pushes me forward. I land on my front on a pile of pillows and quickly roll on my back. “What did you do that for?”
Instead of an answer, he throws a sword at me. I cover my head with my arms in self-protection. The sword lands on my belly and pushes an
ugh
out of my lungs. It’s carved from wood. Thank God, it’s just a toy and not a medieval one made of iron.
“If you want to become one of us, you have to learn how to fight,” he informs me with a glint in his eyes as he pulls another wooden saber from the belt around his waist and attacks me.
Like a rolled-over turtle, I try to defend myself from his blows, but each time his wooden toy hits mine, a nasty vibration rattles up my arm. I jump to my feet and parry his next blow. That was actually really good of me. I grin. But a second later, Peter somehow twists the sword out of my hand and it flies in a high arch across the room. He pushes me on my back again and places the tip of his saber to my throat. “Game over.”
Toby catches my weapon and comes over. He pinches his nose closed and mocks me by imitating the sound of a pooping cow. Drops of his saliva spray down in a mist. “That was a pathetic attempt of becoming a Lost Boy, Angel.”
“I don’t intend to be one!” I climb to my feet and fight my way past Peter and the boy who’s wearing his black hair in a ponytail with an undercut, and off the pillow and mattress nest.
Peter is at my side in a second again, taking my hand to drag me on. “Don’t be sad. We’ll practice with you every day, and soon you’ll fit right in with us.”
Practice? Fit right in? Didn’t he just hear me? “I’m not going to live here, Peter. I told you that I have to find my way home.” I pause. “And what was that about the
Lost Boys
anyway?”
“We can discuss this later. First, I want you to meet someone.” He grins, the wooden sword still in his hand.
Even though there were so many windows on my ride down here, I notice that this place is unusually dark for daylight, but tinted in a soft glow. There are no windows in this section, so I scan for the source of the light.
“Candles?” I burst out as I shoot around to face Peter. “Inside a tree?” Lanterns are placed everywhere. Our shadows are dancing on the wall, and for a tiny second I think Peter’s shadow is mocking me by lifting its shoulders, even though Peter himself just looks at me with his hands in his pockets.
I’m getting a really bad feeling in here.
“Relax, Angel.” Peter rolls his eyes. “We might not be grown-ups, but we’re not stupid. We know how to handle fire. Anyway,” he changes the subject and drags me past the mattress playground toward a small door. “This is Tameeka’s room. Let’s hope she’s home.”
Did he say room? But all this is much too big to fit into a tree. How’s that possible? I stroke my palm across the wall next to the door. It’s made of stone. And mud. Realization begins to dawn; we’re no longer inside the tree. This place is built beneath it, into the earth. What a brilliant idea! Now it’s clear why they need all the candles.
Peter knocks on the door and I stand back until it opens. A thin girl, maybe eight years old, pops her golden blond head out. As I see her sparkling green eyes and her pointed ears peaking through the locks, I gasp.
“Tami, meet Angel,” Peter introduces us as Tameeka emerges from her room. “Angel fell out of the sky today.”
Seeing her full feminine figure, I clap my hands over my mouth. This is no normal child. She wears a short dress made of ivy leaves and there’s a pair of see-through butterfly wings attached to her back.
Dear God, am I on some magic mushroom high?
Tami comes forward, pirouettes on her bare toes and curtseys in front of me. “Nice to meet you, Angel.” Her voice sounds like Christmas bells. “Did you get lost?”
“Well…yes,” I murmur, shaking her tiny elfin hand. “How did you know?” But considering there’s a house built into a tree, Peter can fly, and she’s something closer to a fairy than a human child, I shouldn’t wonder, really.
Tami tilts her head and smiles like I missed the obvious. “Everybody Peter brings here got lost somehow.”
I turn to Peter Pan with quirked eye brows. “Really?” Then my gaze skates across the boys in the room.
They avoid my look, tuck their hands deep into their pockets, and poke their toes into the ground. All but Sparky. The stout boy just peels a banana and shoves it into his mouth, grinning and shrugging his shoulders. “Neverland is cool. None of us ever want to leave again,” he tells me around the banana mush.
I face Peter. “You brought all the guys here to live with you?”
“Well—” He sounds defensive all of a sudden as he jumps backward up onto one of the hammocks, where he swings leisurely back and forth. “I gave them a home when they didn’t know where to go. Toby and Stan were washed up on the shore one day, Skippy was hanging in a tree when I found him, and I had to save Sparky and Loney from the clutches of Captain Hook. It was their choice to stay.”
There was that name again: Hook. Every time somebody mentioned that name, the boys grimaced. “Who is this captain that Sparky and Loney needed to be rescued from?” I want to know.
“Ooh, Hook is the ugliest, meanest and scariest man in Neverland,” Stan tells me with a cruel look and clawed fingers. All the others agree with enthusiastic nods. “His face is scarred something awful, his nose is longer than a raven’s beak, and there’s a hook on his right arm.” He pulls the zipper of his bear-fur vest closed, as if speaking about Hook gives him chills. “He’s the worst pirate sailing these waters. His only aim is to steal our treasure, and he won’t stop at anything to get it. He would let us all walk the plank with tied hands in a heartbeat.”
“In fact, Peter had to save us more than once in the past,” Skippy adds in a dead-serious tone. Then he presses his palms over Tameeka’s ears and his voice drops to a whisper. “Hook never gets tired of making new plans to kidnap our little pixie and steal the map to the treasure’s den.”
Tami fends him off and scoffs in his face, standing on her tiptoes. “You don’t have to do that all the time. I’m not a baby. I know what he’s after.”
Skippy placates her, holding his palms up. “Just trying to be sensitive.”
“You? Sensitive? Hah!” Peter laughs and flies out of the hammock. He smacks Skippy over his head with the toy sword. “The sharks around the Jolly Roger are more sensitive than you.”
Skippy takes on the challenge and runs to grab another wooden weapon from the mattress playground. The Lost Boys holler and cheer as Peter and Skippy fight a perfect battle where neither manages to touch the other with his sword.
I watch them in deep fascination, until someone tugs on my hand. Turning my head, I find Tami next to me. She sighs. “He does this every time.”
“What? Start a fight?”
“No, they aren’t really fighting.” She laughs. “It’s just a game. Peter doesn’t like us being too serious.”
“Is Peter a Lost Boy, too?” I wonder out loud.
“Oh no!” When she shakes her head, golden dust rains out of her hair. “He’s the only one who came here for a reason. He never wanted to grow up. So he ran away.”
Her words intrigue me, but more so does the raining gold. I catch some and rub it between my fingers. It disappears. “What’s this?”
“Pixie dust. You’ve never heard of it?”
Should I have? I cock my head then shake it.
A slow grin spreads on her childish face. “With the right thought in mind, it can help you fly.”
Fly. Like Peter? Damn if I didn’t fall right into a fairy tale. “I’m afraid there’s no such thing where I come from.”
“Where
do
you come from?”
“A city in England. It’s called London.” Full of hope to get a reaction of recognition from her, I lift my brows.
“Ah, I see. London,” she replies with a meaningful look. Anticipation kick-starts my heart. Then she puckers her lips. “Never heard that name before.”
I grab my head between my palms and moan, frustration taking over. This can’t be true. Someone here must know about my hometown. “Where do the Lost Boys come from?” I press then. “I mean, where did they live before they got washed up on the shores of this island?”
“The boys don’t remember where they came from. Nobody knows.” Tami’s tone is matter-of-fact. “And it’s better this way, too. I think if they did, they’d try to get back home.”
“How can you say that? Of course they should try to go home. They surely have families who are missing them.”
The little pixie shrugs. “Maybe they have, maybe they haven’t. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. When they made the choice to live here, Neverland fully embraced them. They are part of it now. You heard Sparky before. No one wants to ever leave again.” She smiles a warm, welcoming smile.
My heart sinks and I feel totally lost and alone. I don’t want to become a part of Neverland. I want to go home to the twins and my parents. What will happen to Brittney Renae and Paulina without me? The fairy bug saw me fall. They’ll run down and outside. What will they do when they realize I’m no longer there…in their world?
A shudder, cold as a scoop of ice cream, skitters down my spine. This is just too much to wrap my mind around. When I gaze at Tami once more, I remember what she said about Peter before. About his wish to never grow up. “How old is Peter?”
Tami’s delicate butterfly wings start to flap. She takes off from the ground, flies a circle around me and lands on my other side, giggling. “How old does he look to you?”
I let my attention wander back to the battling boys and study Peter Pan’s face for a moment. “Sixteen?”
Tami shakes her head and more pixie dust rains down. “He was fifteen when he left his home and came to live in the jungle. That was a very long time ago.”
I rub my neck and come to the conclusion that nothing works right in Neverland. This is a seriously queer place. “And all the boys have been the same age for...”
“As long as they’ve been here,” she finishes my sentence.
“Does this mean, if I stay, I’ll be forever seventeen?”
“Yes.”
Heck, I don’t want to be stuck in the body of a teenager for eternity. I want to grow up. And what’s with the guys not remembering where they come from? What if I too forget my family one day? Raking my hands over my skull, I drag in a scared breath. “Really, I can’t stay here. I have to go. Now.”
Someone places an arm around my shoulders. As I look up, I’m face to face with Peter. “I told you I’m going to help you tomorrow,” he assures me. “It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. Since you’re new to the jungle, it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to roam around alone at night.”
“Peter’s right,” Toby backs him up. “Stay for the night, eat with us, and tell us everything about you. Any information can help with getting you back on track.”
Through the windows higher up in the tree, daylight’s already getting dimmer. Maybe it’s for the best to camp out with Peter and the Lost Boys and start my exploration early tomorrow morning. I can’t do this on my own after all. Hopefully, Mom and Dad will soon be home, so the twins don’t panic or something terrible happens to them.
With a nod, I agree and let Peter drag me to the area with the wide table. Loney and Skippy start a fire in the hearth and set up something that looks like a skinned rabbit on a skewer. Obviously we’re going to eat roast bunny tonight. I wonder if this is something I’ll like.
Chapter 3