Neverland Academy (2 page)

“I
know. I’ll just hang out by the trees over there. And if I need to come inside
I’ll just find you.”

“I’m
afraid that will not be permissible,” a deep voice with a thick Georgia accent
blared from the top of the steps by the entrance. The family turned around and
gazed in awe at the large, well-dressed man leaning on an exquisite ivory
inlaid cane. He wore a pristine black suit, glossy black shoes, and a burgundy
tie that matched Max’s and Josh’s blazers. His thick silver-gray hair was
pulled back neatly into a low ponytail and his mustache reminded Daphne of some
cartoon cowboy the way it grew down the sides of his mouth and just below his
chin. Daphne instantly recognized him as the man from the brochure. While a few
years older than the photo, he still gave her chills.

“No
one under the age of eighteen is permitted to roam the grounds without adult
supervision.” The man sneered at Daphne in a way that made her skin crawl like
ants were scurrying through her veins, and yet his demeanor was elegant and
conservative. The kind of person any parent would trust to look after and
educate their child.

A
movement out of the corner of Daphne’s eye caught her attention. She couldn’t
be a hundred percent sure she saw anything but when her eyes focused on a
garden fence just to the side of the old antebellum mansion she could have sworn
she saw a flitting shadow.

A
wet, hacking cough drew her attention back to the creepy giant. After
straightening a sharply pressed white handkerchief in his pocket, he eyed each
member of the Werring family, pausing when he met Daphne’s nervous eyes.

“I
am Headmaster Byron Trappe. Welcome to Neverland Academy.”

Chapter Two

A
Green-Eyed Ghost

“You’ll have to
pardon me. I’m just
getting over this nasty flu that’s been going around,” Headmaster Trappe said
as he led the Werring family into the front entrance. Two older boys—both
in the standard Neverland Academy uniforms—held wide the front doors as
they passed through. Daphne guessed they were probably students, eager for
shining references on their college applications. One of them, Daphne noticed,
had a pimply face and winked at her. She rolled her eyes in disgust and stormed
through to avoid any more unwanted attention.

“Oh
my,” Mrs. Werring gasped. “How do you handle such circumstances in a boarding
school? Are there safeguards in place to protect the children?”

“Absolutely
ma’am,” Trappe replied. “In fact, Professor Smeed, here, our vice principal,
can inform you of our procedures.” Trappe stretched out his free arm,
indicating a chunky man of short stature, waddling over toward the family. He
had a kindly face, chubby and round, that reminded Daphne of Santa Claus, but
without the beard. When he spoke, his words came out like microwave
popcorn—slow at first as he struggled with his stutter, but once he got
going they flowed much more quickly and easily.

“Y-yes
m-ma’am. I-I am Professor S-Smeed.” His hand flung up to greet Mr. and Mrs.
Werring who, in proper societal etiquette, shook it graciously.

“H-here
at N-Neverland Academy, w-we take the health of our students a-and faculty very
seriously. As you may imagine, being in a highly populated and controlled
environment, any contagious illness may sweep through here unchecked. As you
will soon see, the dormitories are arranged with two students to a room and
those who have been stricken ill are permitted absence to their classes in
order to stay in bed and recover. We do have a medical clinic with twelve beds
where we would quarantine children with highly communicable illnesses, if such
an outbreak were to occur. Members of the faculty are encouraged to take sick
leave early and often. You’ll be pleased to know we have not had a major
outbreak since 2002.” Professor Smeed cleared his throat gruffly as he wiped
his black-rimmed spectacles, then his brow, with a wrinkled handkerchief.

“Well,
that’s a relief,” Mrs. Werring exhaled, letting her shoulders go slack.

“If
you’ll come this way,” Trappe started, “we’ll begin the tour.”

Daphne
tilted her head back and took in the grand entryway, which probably had a
larger square footage than her entire house. She thought of the scene at Twelve
Oaks from
Gone with the Wind
and
imagined ladies in crinoline and men with tailcoats and thick sideburns
casually strolling down the enormous staircase, which curved up the far wall
and ended at a balcony on the second floor.

“This
is the foyer, which we use frequently for meet and greets, assemblies, and
other social events.”

“Mr.
Trappe,” Mr. Werring interrupted. “I recall reading in the brochure about the
antebellum architecture. When was this home built?”

“Neverland
Academy was initially the home of my ancestor James Roger Tanner. He bought the
property and built this home in 1837, after emigrating from Cornwall. Though it
has been updated through the years, you’ll find many of the original
architectural components and motifs that were a throwback to his childhood home
by the sea.”
I guess that explains the mermaids
, Daphne thought.

“And
what about those gothic spires we’ve seen over the tree line?” Mrs. Werring
asked. “Those don’t seem to fit in with the antebellum style.”

“Ah,
yes.” Headmaster Trappe bent and chuckled. “That would be the work of my great
grandfather, Tucker Trappe Tanner. When he took over the school from his father
he found he needed to add on in order to accommodate more students. He stuck
with the original style when he built the west wing and the dormitories, but he
grew a little kooky as his years progressed and built the chapel in the style
of old gothic architecture. The building is quite a departure from the original
look. My own father thought to tear it down and rebuild something a little
more, ah, traditional, but the art professor insisted he keep it for
educational purposes. Despite the contrast, it is quite a magnificent building
as you will soon see.” Trappe turned and leaned on his cane. “To the left you
will find the library, which was recently updated with state of the art
technology. We have the latest Mac systems with laptop charging stations, and
Wi-Fi is accessible throughout the campus.”

Daphne
peeked into the library and was instantly taken. Not just by the computer
systems lining rows of long tables, but bookshelves so high she’d need an
extension ladder to reach the top. If there was one thing she loved more than
geeky computer hacking, it was reading. She was eager to get online and send an
email to Rocks—her parents monitored her emails at home so she hadn’t
been in touch with him since last week—but the walking tour bus was
moving on. Before leaving, she noted the apparent lack of a librarian in the
room. She felt a pinch on her shoulder and whipped her head around.

“Let’s
go, Daph,” Josh grunted. “You’re holding us up.”

Daphne
trailed behind her brothers, who shuffled behind their parents with Trappe and
Smeed in the lead. They toured the common areas on the main level which
included another section of the library used for study and group projects, a
parlor and drawing room which were converted into administrative offices, and
an enlarged dining room, adjacent to the kitchen, where the students would eat
their meals.

The
group exited the dining room through a pair of French doors onto a terrace that
overlooked a courtyard housed between two long buildings—dormitories,
Daphne assumed by the layout. In the center of the courtyard lay a long,
elaborate garden; so detailed and precise it looked more like a renaissance
painting than a part of nature. The garden was enclosed on all four sides by
green shrubbery, apart from an entrance in the front and back, where a
brick-laid walk led to the gothic style chapel. Inside the garden was a
geometric pattern of pathways winding around more greens, pinks, yellows and a
few blues. Daphne thought it looked pretty, but much too perfect for her taste.
She preferred disarray. She liked things to be out of place. It made her feel
normal.

The
family followed Trappe down the steps of the terrace and through the entrance
of the garden. The concoction of floral aromas was almost suffocating to
Daphne. Her scent preferences leaned more toward the fruity and spicy.
Lemon-ginger was her favorite.

She
hadn’t noticed it from the terrace but there were several young
boys—younger than Max, who had just turned thirteen—hunched over on
their knees, pulling weeds in the garden. Daphne felt a little sorry for them.
She wondered why on earth they would be out here working instead of studying.
This was a school after all. They should be in class. Perhaps this was their
punishment for putting super glue on a toilet seat or fake puke on a teacher’s
desk. Surely this was some kind of disciplinary measure.
Shouldn’t they hire
gardeners for this sort of thing?

“Here
at Neverland Academy, boys learn the tenor and reward of hard work. There is
plenty of free time between classes and meals and boys are required to
participate in chores, just as they would at home. We find it keeps our costs
down and their integrity high.” Mr. and Mrs. Werring seemed to accept this
explanation without question, but Daphne grimaced at the thought of having to
work
and
go to school. Where was the fun
in that?

As
they were walking out Daphne peered back at the boys. One of them, a skinny
stick of a boy with a puffy tuft of bleach blond hair, snuck a glance over his
shoulder. There was something mildly suspicious about him. It was as if he was
hiding something or knew a secret that he wouldn’t be caught dead revealing.

After
a dreadfully boring tour through the gothic chapel and dormitories, Daphne and
her parents said goodbye to Josh and Max and followed Headmaster Trappe and
Professor Smeed back to the mansion.

“My
office is on the upper level,” Trappe indicated with his left hand. “We may
finish our business there.”

Daphne
followed the adults up the curved staircase, but paused at the door to Trappe’s
office. Her skin began to crawl again and the smell of Lysol made her choke.
There wasn’t anything immediately threatening about the headmaster’s office,
but she still got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Or maybe it was the
frozen waffle she’d wolfed down way too fast that morning. Either way, she
didn’t want to be there. She’d hoped the
escort requirement
only applied to children outdoors.

“Um,”
she whispered to her mother. The last thing she wanted to do was to attract the
attention of the creepy headmaster. “Is there a bathroom here?”

“Mr.
Trappe, my daughter needs to use the facilities.”
Thanks, mom,
Daphne thought as she twisted her head away in
embarrassment.

“Yes,
there is a ladies room downstairs, just outside the parlor. I can have an
escort—”

“I
can find it,” Daphne blurted out and bolted before he had a chance to protest.
Her parents would vouch for her anyway. After all, how much trouble could she
really get into in a place like this? She raced down the stairs, as quietly as
she could, which wasn’t that quiet really, considering she was wearing her
clunky black combat boots and the floorboards were probably older than the sun.

In
the restroom, which was a modern design, centuries away from the old-fashioned
décor of the rest of the place, Daphne stared at her reflection with sadness
and caught a tear beginning to poke out from her eyelid. She dabbed it with a
square of toilet paper and told herself to be strong. Seeing all the boys at
the academy made her miss Rocks and her friends in Atlanta all the more. She’d
never felt so alone.

When
she’d ambled out into the empty foyer, she’d realized her parents were still
speaking with the headmaster. She wasn’t about to go back upstairs. Instead,
Daphne sauntered around the lower level and ended up in the library that
fascinated her earlier. She wedged her head back to view the books on the
highest shelves of the room, which took up two stories itself. For a moment she
wondered how anyone could reach the books up there. Then her gaze settled upon
the rolling ladder at the corner of the room. In the back of the library, a
tall window, set deeply into the wall, streamed in natural light, while several
average sized windows in the front did the same.

Daphne
peered around the library and back into the foyer, then tiptoed to one of the
computers in the corner, where she hoped she wouldn’t be discovered if somebody
happened to wander in. She wiggled the mouse beneath her fingers to disrupt the
screensaver—a Neverland Academy logo—and was disheartened to find
she needed a login and password. She checked a few of the other computers and
found the same. But Daphne was not one to let a little security stand in her
way. She knew computers in and out and she knew of ways to bypass the security
features, especially something as simple as this.

As
she began tapping the keys, a sound—a very tiny sound, like a pin
drop—cause Daphne’s heart to leap from her chest. She turned her head and
scanned the library. Nothing but dust motes disturbed the air. When she was
convinced she was still alone she resolved to work faster. She slid a flash
drive from her pocket—she carried it everywhere as if it were her car
keys—and plugged it into the USB port in the computer.

Finally,
after a few easy clicks, she was in. She didn’t make a habit of hacking into
computers often—she never really needed to. But it was a useful skill to
have.

Daphne
quickly signed into her Yahoo account. A goofy grin spread on her face when she
found an email waiting for her from Rocks.

 
        
Hey Babe-

 
   
Tried
txting but won’t go thru.

 
   
Playin
@ Jaggers on Fri. See u there?

 
   
Rocks
\m/

Daphne
hit reply. Just as she was about to type, she heard a noise again. This time
she was sure it was right behind her. She turned and looked down into the
short, narrow spaces between the low bookshelves but again, she saw no one. She
would have to keep this short and sweet.

 
        
Hey Baby,

 
   
I’ll
be there.

 
   
Love
ya,

 
   
Daphne
<3

 
“You’re not a student here,” a voice
drifted from behind her as if a breeze carried it through a drafty window.

 
Daphne jumped nearly two inches off her
seat and her heart thumped wildly against her chest. Quickly she hit “Send” and
stood, guarding the computer screen. She was shocked to meet face to face with
a boy who looked not much older than she. Judging by his stature, tall and
athletic, he looked like he couldn’t possibly be young enough to attend, but
his boyish face complete with deep-set dimples defied that thought. His hair,
black as coal was spiked up in that “just got out of bed” look and he was
dressed in a black V-neck tee shirt and jeans, which had worn holes in the knees.
She was well familiar with the style, being in the crowd she was in, but this
didn’t exactly look like a fashion statement. Especially not with bare feet
that looked like they’d been through a few mud puddles since his last shower.
It certainly didn’t meet the dress code for Neverland Academy.