Always Neverland (17 page)

Chapter 29.
The Crocodile Gets Another Nibble

I
barely blocked with my own blade in time.

I know that back in my bedroom, I'd said I wanted to cross swords with Hook. But right then, Hook was at the bottom of the list of pirates I wanted to fight. Especially since I hadn't had a spare moment to Pretend I was a great swordswoman.

“Hook is mine!” Peter cried indignantly.

“Well, you're all tied up at the moment!” I replied sharply. “And I'm not just going to let him slice me up.”

Hearing how scared I was, Hook smiled and thrust his blade at me. I knocked it out of the way frantically. I didn't have enough experience with swords, and Peter was really the only one good enough to match him. It was much easier to make plans and be tricky.

“Then get me my sword, and I'll cut
myself
free,” Peter said, exasperated.

“Where is it?” I asked, glancing around the deck.

“You don't mean this little trifle, do you, my dear?” asked the pirate captain.

Hook carried Peter's golden sword in his own belt. He tapped it lightly with his hook, and a small metallic chime rang out.

“Uh-oh,” I said.

I looked around for help. Prank had already lost one of his weapons, but he battled Noodler fearlessly anyway. Button dodged his way past three pirates. Sensing that the trick was over, Dibs had come down to the deck and was dashing back and forth with one hand on Hook's hat, making half a dozen pirates chase after him. Tink was in trouble—Black Patch Pat had her pinned to the mast, and she struggled to get free as the pirate brought his dagger closer and closer.

We were still outnumbered.

Luckily, one of us had not yet made an appearance.

“Kyle!” I shouted.

Above the cliff just a few hundred yards from the
Jolly Roger
, the littlest Lost Boy flew out of the trees. He smiled and pointed his sword at the pirate ship with a wordless yell.

A dozen of Tiger Lily's Cubs burst through the leaves, echoing Kyle's war cry.

“What the—,” Hook started to say, watching the braves grow ever closer.

We hadn't had enough time to get the whole tribe fairy dust, so we created an alternate way of flying. The braves sailed over the water, each holding on to two Never birds.

Seeing them, Peter crowed with delight.

From the water below, Buttercup looked up at me. “Now?”

I nodded. She gave an order, and every mermaid stopped pushing at once.

The
Jolly Roger
wobbled back into place. All the pirates who had been getting to their feet were thrown off balance again—including the pirate captain.

I shoved him hard, just for good measure, and as Hook began to fall backward, I snatched the golden sword from his belt and tossed it behind me.

Peter caught it and crowed again, this time with pride.

He sliced himself free in an instant.

By the time the captain scrambled to his feet, Peter was already there.

“Miss me, Hook?” he asked. Then, with a sword flourish, he attacked the pirate so fiercely that you would've never guessed that he'd spent the last few hours all tied up.

Only Tiger Lily remained. She was bound too tightly to move, but she watched me with pleading in her dark eyes. I knew what she wanted.

“You know, I really did want to be your friend,” I told her, scowling. “But you lost a lot of points when you threw Kyle to Croc, and now that you've hurt Peter, you
really
aren't one of my favorite people.”

Tiger Lily lowered her gaze, ashamed.

But I sliced her ropes anyway. For Pounce's sake, not his sister's.

The Cubs landed with soft thumps all around us, and the deck got a lot more crowded. The pirates gulped nervously, seeing themselves surrounded. All it took was one bloodcurdling shout from Pounce, and the pirates started running, panicked, in all directions.

Spot landed on my shoulder briefly and rubbed her head against my hair. Her feathers had turned as blue as the sky.

“Thanks!” I told the Never bird, and she flew off with the rest of her flock.

Hook passed behind me, deflecting all of Peter's attacks with a nervous sort of scowl. Sensing victory, Peter crowed again.

Then I heard the sound that I had been waiting to hear.

“Bells on bob tails ring, making spirits bright,” sang a voice that came from the water.

Peter turned to me with one of his proud grins. “You
have
been busy.”

“What?” Hook asked. “What is that singing?”

I shrugged demurely, peeking over the side of the ship again. Humming together, the mermaids jabbed at the huge reptile with tridents, herding him even closer.

The crocodile surfaced and splashed, and we heard snatches of “Jingle Bells.”

“It's funny,” Peter said to the pirate captain. “Usually you start screaming when Croc gets this close. Seeing as he took your hand. And your ear.”

Captain Hook stiffened. He turned slowly to look into the water, horrified.

“I don't think he knows that the crocodile has changed his tune,” I said.

Prank appeared on my other side, snorting as Kyle, Button, and Dibs joined us.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.”

“Lost Boys—and Ashley,” Peter added hastily when I gave him a look. “On the count of three.”

“One,” said Kyle, raising his sword.

“Oh, what fun it is to ride—”

“Two,” said Dibs with an expectant sort of smile.

“—in a one-horse open—”

“Three!” I shouted, and we all stabbed our blades toward Hook at once.

“—sleigh!”

The only way he could dodge was backward, and he fell right over the side, into the water, where the crocodile was waiting.

“Whoops,” Prank said with one of his wicked grins.

“Think he'll really be eaten this time?” Kyle asked Peter as we watched the scene below. The pirate captain tried to swim away frantically, but the mermaids turned him back around with their sharp weapons.

“Jingle bells, jingle . . .”

The crocodile swam forward, opening his jaws wide, but Hook raised his sword, screaming shrilly.

We weren't the only ones looking. The pirates lined the starboard side, their hands raised high, the Cubs' knives at their backs. Smee stood closest to us, holding a white flag of surrender and watching his captain wrestle with the crocodile.

“Jingle all the way . . .”

“Would you look at that?” Smee said softly.

“Smee, you stupid dog. What are you doing, Smee?” Hook cried, sputtering out seawater. “Save me! Save me, Smee!”

“Oh, what fun . . .”

Smee began stroking his chin. “It occurs to me now, Cap'n, that I've been wantin' a promotion.”

“Yeah,” added Black Patch Pat. “I've been meaning to talk to you about the way you treat us. Sometimes, you ain't nice—ain't nice at all.”

Tiger Lily gave a cry. One by one, all the braves ran across the deck and dived into the sea on the port side, swimming for shore. Pounce smiled and waved before he went, and Tiger Lily held my gaze for a long minute.

“And the food!” cried a pirate in an apron, who was probably Cook. “It's terrible!”

Finally, the princess nodded deeply with a very small smile. I figured that was her version of
thank you
. Then she dived off too and was gone.

“Smee!”
Hook screamed.

As we turned our backs to him and flew toward shore, the sound of splashing was the only thing we heard.

Then, thrilled with their victory, the Lost Boys began to crow. I turned to Peter with a grin, expecting him to join them.

But Peter looked grim as he sheathed his sword. “We better get you home,” he told me, and my smile faded.

Chapter 30.
I Don't Miss Christmas

D
ibs was the only Lost Boy who didn't look shocked.

“Take her home?” Button repeated.

“But why?” said Prank.

“She just saved your life!” Kyle said angrily, as if he thought Peter was trying to punish me.

I said nothing, watching Peter. It didn't
seem
like he was still mad at me, but I guess he was eager to get rid of me before I caused any more trouble. After all, I
had
gotten him captured.

“It's almost Christmas,” Peter said flatly. “It's time for her to go back.”

I swallowed hard. I wanted to do
both
—to stay in Neverland
and
go home for Christmas.

Kyle dropped abruptly, and Button and I barely caught him before he hit the water and got all his fairy dust wet.

“Sorry,” he said hoarsely when he could fly on his own again. “I just lost track of my happy thought for a sec.”

That made me drop a little altitude too.

“Time to say good-bye,” said Peter. He didn't look at me.

Buttercup appeared in the water below us. She had overheard, and she had already started crying. Her tears were green. “You
have
to come back to visit. Promise you will.”

I flew down and clasped her hands, but I didn't promise. I didn't know if I could. “Thank you for everything, Buttercup.”

“You'll always be a friend to the mermaids,” she said. She kissed my cheek swiftly and swam away. I don't think she liked good-byes.

“You
will
come back, won't you?” Button said. “To be our sister?”

I looked at Peter, who still wouldn't look me in the face. I shrugged, spreading my hands helplessly. I couldn't come back without someone to bring me fairy dust and lead the way.

“If you wanted to be a Lost Girl,” Dibs said softly, “I would be okay with that.”

“Yeah, you're almost as good at playing tricks as I am,” Prank said brightly.

“Thanks,” I said, blinking my eyes a lot and hoping nobody would notice.

Kyle couldn't contain himself any longer. He launched himself at me, and I opened my arms.

“You're my favorite Wendy girl,” he said, hugging me tightly.

“I thought I was your
first
Wendy girl,” I said, smiling in a trembly way. “I'm the only one you know.”

“No matter how many Wendy girls I meet, you'll still be my favorite,” Kyle said, as fiercely as he'd ever protested being little.

“Do any of you want to come?” I said, my voice cracking just a bit. “Some of the Lost Boys did, you know. With the original Wendy.”

Kyle's face brightened. He considered it. I know he did, but Peter gave the Lost Boys such a sharp look that they hastily said, “No.”

I guess they didn't want to leave Peter all alone either.

“Wait for me at the tree,” Peter said firmly, like he thought that the Lost Boys might still change their minds. “I'll be back soon. Tink, go get Ashley's backpack and catch up.”

The little fairy chittered agreement and zipped off to the island ahead of everyone else.

The Lost Boys waved and said good-bye once more, sailing toward shore on a gust of wind.

Kyle waited around as long as he could, holding my hand, until Peter took off in the opposite direction, saying, “Let's go.”

“'Bye, Kyle,” I whispered, squeezing his hand, and then I flew off after Peter. My chest hurt, like suddenly my heart had swelled too big to fit behind my ribs.

I had thought that it would stop hurting as soon as I left Neverland and its magic faded from me. I'd thought that being the Lost Boys' big sister was just Pretend. But as we passed out of Neverland and into the starry sky, my toes and fingers stopped tingling, and my chest
still
felt too tight to breathe well. By the time a small, familiar light appeared and passed me my backpack, my eyes had filled with tears. Shrugging on the straps, I blinked them away without a sound. I really
would
miss the Lost Boys.

Peter flew ahead of me, leading the way. I couldn't see his face, but he must've looked fierce. The stars parted ahead of him, scurrying out of his path. He never looked back, never once checked to see how I was doing.

He only spoke to me one time—about halfway there. “What did you wish?”

Since he hadn't turned, it took me a second to realize that he'd been talking to me and not Tink. “What?”

“During the thunderstorm,” he said impatiently. “What wish did you make?”

I didn't know how to answer. Wishing not to get in trouble seemed so selfish now, especially since I'd caused Peter so much trouble.

Finally, I said, “If I tell you, it won't come true.”

Peter was silent until Tink chittered questioningly. “I thought that you wished you would never grow up. That you would stay with us,” he said.

Pan didn't say anything more—not the whole flight home.

Instead, Tink kept flying back and forth between us. When she came to me, she chimed encouragingly and patted my cheek with her tiny hand. I smiled a bit, without humor. This was a weird turn of events—Tink comforting me and Peter ignoring me.

But at least someone was still speaking to me. That was the happy thought that kept me flying.

All too soon, we fell through the clouds. Below us glittered the lights of my town, and as we flew lower, I recognized my elementary school and the streets that led home. Everything sparkled in the moonlight. It had snowed while we were gone. Our shadows showed up starkly against the white.

Flying down my street, Tink warmly greeted the McKinleys' tree, which twinkled with Christmas lights, and she was very embarrassed when she realized there weren't any fairies in it. Then there was my yard and my house, which looked small and unfamiliar and very dark. It didn't look like anyone was home.

I flew up to the second story. My window was still open. The white curtain fluttered in and out, tangling my legs when I landed.

Peter didn't come in at first. He hovered outside, elbows on the windowsill.

Now that I was home, in my own bedroom, saying another good-bye made me feel like crying even more. The house seemed lonelier than ever. I had gotten used to having other kids around.

“Tink, go back and wait for me,” Peter said, pointing up at the clouds.

Tink chimed a pert little question, but Peter scowled darkly, his eyes narrowed.

Then she flew toward me, way too quickly for me to dodge. I braced myself for a scratch or a hair pulling, but the only thing I felt was a warm little pressure on my hand. The fairy's arms squeezed my palm, and she lay her head on my thumb lovingly.

Tink was
hugging
me.

Her bell-like voice rang out again.

“She says, ‘Thank you,'” Peter said.

I
had
won her over after all. It just took longer than I'd expected.

“Oh!” I blinked really hard again, but it didn't help. My cheeks were wet. Tink let me go, zipping out the window and toward the clouds. “Good-bye!” I called. “Good-bye!”

Apparently, my shouting woke someone up. The house wasn't as empty as I had guessed.

Footsteps thumped in the hall. My bedroom door swung open, and the lights snapped on.

Peter and I flinched against the sudden brightness. Arms closed around me, picking me up.

“Hi, Mom,” I whispered, hugging her back.

“Oh, Ashley. Let me look at you,” she said, drawing back and searching my face. Her hair was going everywhere, like she'd been running her hands through it all night. She only does that when she's really worried.

“That's—” My dad stood in the doorway, staring past my mother and me. “He's—I mean, the note said, and your mother said, but I didn't believe—”

“It's all right, Richard,” Mom said, straightening up a little. “Hello, Peter.”

Peter sat lounging at the window, half in and half out of the house. “Hello, Wendy girl.”

But he wasn't talking to me. He was looking straight at Mom.

For a second, I wondered why he would call my mother “Wendy girl,” and then I realized what it meant. Grandma Delaney never met Peter Pan. I was related to Wendy Darling on
Mom's
side.

“You went to Neverland too,” I said to my mother wonderingly. “
You're
the Wendy girl who made the food trees.”

Mom nodded. “A long time ago.”

“She wouldn't let me call the police,” Dad said.

“That doesn't mean that I wasn't worried sick,” Mom said sharply. “Not when it took Peter so long to bring you back. Not with all the pirates and the crocodiles and mermaids who could drown you—”

“I made friends with the mermaids, actually. And I didn't get kidnapped once.” (I figured that this wasn't the best moment to mention that the crocodile had eaten her iPod.)

Mom crossed her arms over her chest and raised both eyebrows the way she does when she doesn't believe me. “I
know
how long the trip from Neverland takes. When I talked to Peter, he promised to bring you back today. Then you didn't come back this morning, and I knew that something had gone terribly wrong, and you were in terrible danger—”

“Peter got captured, not me—” I started to explain, but then I worked out the rest of what she said. “Wait, you talked to Peter? You knew?”

With a slow, wide smile, Mom pulled something out of her pocket. The wooden whistle, the one that usually hung from the frame of her mirror. She raised it to her lips and blew. It didn't make a sound at first, but then the noise came—a hollow sound, like you get when you blow over the top of an empty bottle. But it wasn't coming from Mom.

It was coming from Peter. Sitting on the windowsill, he reached into his leafy shirt and drew out his pipes. They kept whistling very faintly even after Mom stopped blowing.

Dad's mouth hung open a little.

“I had the fairies spell the pipes and make the whistles,” Peter said. “So the Wendy girls could reach me wherever I am.”

“I knew you were going to be bored when it turned out your dad and I would have to work all weekend,” Mom added with a grin. “So I called Peter and asked him to take you to Neverland for a few days.”

“She did warn me that you weren't going to be like the other Wendy girls,” Peter said with a trace of his usual cocky smile. “I didn't believe her at the time.”

I was stunned. Why hadn't I suspected it all along? It seemed so obvious now.

“I told you that you might find a friend,” Mom said, her eyes glittering, and I realized that my mom could be
just
as tricky as I was.

I started to grin, but then Mom said sternly, “You're still in
huge
trouble. Going to Neverland is just fine, but neither of us said that you could take the iPod or the camera with you.”

I gulped. I hadn't seen this coming either.

“Well?” Mom asked. “Where are they?”

“Croc has swallowed the iPod,” Peter announced.

I gave him a dirty look for ratting me out, but he just seemed a little smug. I could tell he was happy that
he
didn't have parents.

I thought quickly, unzipping my backpack and passing the camera to Dad. “The Sixth Amendment clearly states—”

This time, it was Mom who laughed, not Dad.

“First off, it's Christmas,” I began.

“Christmas Eve,” Mom corrected. “And we have
yet
to get a Christmas tree.”

“I can't deny that I took the iPod and the camera without permission. But really, the camera is perfectly fine,” I continued. “I took very good care of it, and I would've taken very good care of the iPod if it hadn't been swallowed by a giant crocodile.”

“Well . . . ,” Mom said, considering.

I pressed on. “Plus, I brought back presents for both of you.”

She was cracking. I sensed it. One more comment would make or break the bargain.

With a self-sacrificing sigh, I added, “Instead of grounding me, you could take one of my Christmas presents.”

“Great idea,” Mom said with a sly smile that reminded me of Tink. “You
were
going to get an iPod for Christmas . . .” My mouth fell open. An iPod of my very own! . . . “but I'll just keep it to replace the one you lost.”

I started to protest and then stopped, realizing.

The wish that I had made,
this
was how the falling star granted it. The problem was that
now
, I wasn't completely sure that I would
mind
getting grounded if I
also
got an iPod.

“So, she's not in trouble?” my dad said, shocked.

“It'll be different if she ever takes something off-limits without permission again,” Mom said, giving me a stern look.

Before we got too carried away, Peter cleared his throat. “I must say good-bye.” His gaze slid to my parents. “In private.”

Dad got a look on his face like he was going to tell Peter just how rude he was, but Mom only smoothed the hair away from my eyes with both hands. “I'll tell you what. I'll take your dad downstairs and fix us some hot chocolate. When you're done, you come down too. I want to hear all about your adventures. And,” she added, smiling, “we still have to see about getting us a Christmas tree.”

I nodded slowly. She went to the door.

“Are you
sure
we shouldn't punish her?” I heard Dad ask as he followed Mom to the stairs, and then they were gone.

For a moment, Peter and I only looked at each other.

Then, suddenly, Peter reached out and touched my new sword belt with one finger. “Merry Christmas, Ashley.”

“Oh!” I slung off my backpack and dug past Mom's and Dad's presents for Peter's. “I almost forgot to give you this.”