“It is you! That’s incredible! What happened? You get bitten by a radioactive spider or something?”
Frog chuckled. “Not quite. It was pills.”
“Really? Can I have some?”
“Trust me, you don’t want them.”
Milo inclined his head. “Fair enough.”
Frog turned back to me. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to come back to Gulbrania with me this weekend?”
I stepped back, a little shocked, but thrilled at the prospect of spending time with him.. “I, um, I’d have to ask my mom.”
“I already asked her,” Frog replied, looking pleased with himself. “She already said yes.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Some lady taught me that I should always ask the girl’s parents for permission first.”
“Well, in that case, I’d love to.”
Frog beamed at me and took a step closer. The hallway was practically empty now, leaving just the four of us standing there. “I was also hoping that eventually, you’d like to move there. We have an excellent university and great programs for developing leaders.”
I took a deep breath. It was definitely something I would consider, but it was a little overwhelming. “Do I have to decide right now?”
“No!” Frog exclaimed. “First you’d have to see the whole country and spend enough time there to see if it’s for you. But I think you’re going to love it. There’s really a lot more to it than meets the eye.”
“That seems to be a theme with you,” I said quietly.
Frog blushed, which was undeniably charming, then he glanced back at Milo. “You’re welcome to come to Gulbrania too,” Frog offered.
Milo looked sideways at Miranda, who had been standing there taking everything in with a slightly dazed expression. “Maybe another time,” Milo replied with a small smile. “I’ve got plans this weekend.”
Frog looked between Milo and Miranda, then looked at me for confirmation. I gave him a slight nod.
“Cool,” Frog said simply. “Well, you’re both welcome to come anytime.”
“Thank you,” Miranda responded, looking a bit surprised.
Frog again turned his attention to me. “You ready to go?”
“Right now?”
“Well, you can wait until the end of school if you want, or whenever you’re ready. I’ve got a jet waiting. It’s on the football field.”
I opened my mouth to voice my surprise, but Milo beat me to it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He exclaimed. “You’ve got a jet? Who are you?”
Frog shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I’m the prince of Gulbrania.”
Read on for a sample of the first book
in the Neverland 2.0 series:
Peter
Panhandler
Chapter One
Wendy didn’t know why she gave money to that boy. Her father had always told her not to encourage beggars. “It gives them no incentive to work,” he would proclaim, adjusting his bland tie. He always wore a tie, and they were always bland. “There’s no need to facilitate indolence in this city,” he would say with finality as he steered his children away.
Perhaps she had been intrigued by the boy’s sign: LOST MY SHADOW. NEED HELP. It was an unusual plea amongst the other cardboard petitions held by vagrants on the street. Or maybe she had been compelled by his bright green eyes. In the half second that she looked in those eyes she felt like she knew everything about him and yet nothing at all. And the fact that he had made eye contact was unusual, if not a bit unnerving. None of the other beggars ever looked her in the eye, much less smiled at her, but smile at her he did, and before she knew what she was doing she had pulled a few bills from her pocket and dropped them at his feet. She even lingered for a moment to return his clumsy smile before realizing how bizarre the situation was.
She shook her head as she continued down the street. She didn’t have time to wonder about the odd beggar boy on the corner. She didn’t even have time to admire her favorite buildings along her route. Today the new regional inspector, Mrs. Carnivera, was coming to the children’s home where Wendy worked, and if the rumors circulating the city were true, this particular inspector was horrific. Several homes had been closed in the last month due to the near impossible standards imposed by this monstrous woman. Mrs. Nancy had taken on three more children as the other homes scrambled to relocate their wards, so everyone was already under more stress than usual. Mrs. Nancy’s Children’s Home for Boys was reputed as one of the most suitable locations for orphaned and destitute youth in London, and Wendy prayed that they could hold up under Mrs. Carnivera’s formidable scrutiny.
The wind picked up and Wendy pulled the hood of her jacket over her head as she turned onto Barrie Street. She knew it would make her already messy brown hair even more untidy, but these days she didn’t care much about her appearance. Mrs. Nancy’s Children’s Home for Boys stood out from the other buildings on Barrie Street thanks to the hideous mauve shutters that clashed with its dirty red brick. Wendy ran up the crumbling steps and was about to ring the bell when the door was thrown open.
“Miss Wendy! Miss Wendy! The oven exploded!” Trevor sang, his curly red hair flopping up and down as he danced around. “There are ashes everywhere!”
Wendy tried to usher the gleeful toddler inside, but soon Mrs. Nancy appeared in the doorway, her plump figure coated with a layer of ash.
“Wendy! Thank goodness you’re here! Nana has gotten sick all over the stairs, and Eugene is playing in it!”
Usually Wendy would be squeamish about mopping up dog vomit, but today she went quickly to the pantry to fetch some gloves, rags, and solution, and then set to work. When she had finished that task, she continued on to the bedrooms and discovered that while she and Mrs. Nancy had been occupied with the stairs and the oven, two children had upended all of the toy chests and were now playing in the toilet.
“Zachary! Duke!”
The two 6-year-olds gasped and stood at attention.
“Wash your hands and change your clothes right now!” Wendy ordered. The two boys turned around and jostled one another for a turn at the sink. “And when you’re done changing, come back and put those toys away.”
“Yes, Miss Wendy,” they answered, smiling innocently. She gently patted their heads as they ran by. She once again donned her cleaning gloves and hunkered down to wipe the water off the tiled floor. After a few moments Mrs. Nancy bustled in.
“Oh dear! What happened?”
“A couple of rascals thought they were plumbers.”
Mrs. Nancy smiled. She was probably the only person in London who could constantly smile at messes and bad behavior, which, Wendy supposed, was what made her a perfect candidate for running a children’s home.
“Bless them,” Mrs. Nancy sighed, putting her hand on her heart. But in the next instant she became flustered. “Wendy, could you run to the kitchen? Trevor has disabled the security system again.”
Wendy strained her ears and could just make out the faint beeping that indicated the alarm was down.
“Just let me finish this up and I’ll fix it,” Wendy replied.
The kitchen smelled slightly of burned toast and chemicals, but there was otherwise no sign of the disaster that had occurred in the oven. Wendy looked around and spotted a little shoe poking out from underneath the pantry door.
“Trevor?”
“I’m in the space rocket!” Came the muffled voice. “We’re about to launch!”
Wendy snorted and opened the pantry door. Trevor was sitting on a shelf with a salad bowl on his head and two fist fulls of animal shaped crackers. He smiled unabashedly up at her.
“Five, four, three, two, one, blast off!” He shouted and jumped into Wendy’s ready arms. The bowl fell off his head and clanged to the floor, revealing his red curls.
“Trevor!” Wendy laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Why did you shut off the security system again?”
“I was trying to see how it w
orks,” the boy replied, munching on his crackers.
“Would you like to watch me reset it?”
“Yeah!”
Wendy punched in the complicated code and then shut the panel. But before she had a chance to set Trevor down, he reached over, whipped open the panel, and repeated the pattern Wendy had just entered. She stared at him.
“You are one brilliant little man,” she said, tweaking his nose and setting him on the floor. “Now go help the others clean up.”
“Yes, Miss Wendy!” He called as he scampered out of the kitchen.
Wendy sighed. She’d been working for Mrs. Nancy for just over a year, but she’d grown to love these boys as if they were her own little brothers. Zachary and Duke had come in the same week and were endlessly mischievous. These two factors made them inseparable. Matthew, at age 11, was the oldest boy in the house and had lived there the longest. Even though he was quiet and heartbreakingly sensitive, he was uncommonly endearing. And Trevor, who came to Mrs. Nancy three years ago when he was only 2, was in constant danger of being electrocuted. His inquiring and ingenious mind had him pulling apart electronics and devices all over the house, often merging them into some new, perilous invention. Wendy naturally favored him because of his creativity and guileless demeanor, but also because his smile reminded her of her brother Michael.
There were moments when Wendy could almost pretend the accident had never happened. But most of the time the memories lodged themselves in the weakest parts of her heart and spread their tentacles throughout her mind and body, causing a dull and relentless aching. At her worst, Wendy would wake in the middle of the night, consumed with grief and guilt, crying out in incomprehensible pleadings until her mother came to comfort her.
Two years ago, for her fifteenth birthday, Wendy had persuaded her family to go on a cruise to Norway. Her father was the most hesitant, being very concerned about the finances, but he finally conceded after Wendy’s daily begging and promises of how much fun they would all have. She was only concerned about having fun back then.
The trip had started off splendidly. They had reveled in all the food, shows, and activities the ship had to offer. Michael and John had their hearts set on seeing whales, so when they reached Norway, Wendy’s father and brothers joined a whale watching tour while she and her mother explored the city of Bergen. She remembered the magical houses along the shore and laughing with her mother as they tried on silly hats in a shop. One perfect day before her world fell apart.
When they got back to the ship that evening, the whale watching tour had not yet returned. Tensions mounted on the ship as hours passed and the group was still missing. It was past midnight when a local naval authority informed them that the boat had been seized by marauders and everyone on board had been killed.
Wendy was awoken from her dark thoughts by a large, black Newfoundland running into the kitchen and nearly knocking her over.
“Nana!” Wendy exclaimed, kneeling down and scratching the dog’s neck. “What on earth did you eat to make such a mess on the stairs?”
“We gave her some chocolate ice cream last night!” Duke called from the other room.
“And she loved it!” Zachary added proudly.
Mrs. Nancy rushed in, nervously flailing her arms about.
“She’s coming! I saw her in the street! She’ll be here in seconds! Get that dog out of here!”
Matthew, Zachary, and Oliver had followed Mrs. Nancy into the kitchen, curious about the spectacle she was making. Wendy quickly put Nana outside, wiped an unidentifiable green substance off of Zachary’s mouth, and ushered the boys to their rooms. The bell rang twice. Wendy helped Mrs. Nancy dust off the remaining ashes from her yellow dress and stood back as the frazzled woman went to open the door.
Chapter Two
If she didn’t have a name tag and a clip board, Wendy would have thought she was a banshee. Mrs. Carnivera was a truly frightening woman. It’s not that she was ugly, by some angles she was quite attractive, but all of her features combined created an altogether abstract and formidable person. Her black hair stuck out from her head as if she’d recently been electrocuted. Her fierce gray eyes swept slowly from side to side as if hunting for falsities, and they were at odds with her huge smile, which was anything but friendly. She wore a purple dress which revealed a bit too much, and her knee high boots were covered in some type of animal skin. A large pendant resembling a spider web hung from a chain around her neck.
“Please c-come in,” Mrs. Nancy stammered. Mrs. Carnivera took two long strides into the house and turned in a slow circle.
“I suppose you’re the owner of this shelter?” She asked with her back toward Mrs. Nancy.
“Y-yes, I am.”
“How long have you been in operation?”
“Nearly six years.”
“Who is the young lady?”
“That’s m-my employee, Wendy Darling.”
“How many are in your stewardship?”
“There are eight now.”
“Hm.”
Mrs. Carnivera stood silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. Wendy glanced over at Mrs. Nancy, wondering if they should say something. Finally, the intimidating woman turned to face them.
“The space seems adequate,” she stated.
“Thank you,” replied Mrs. Nancy meekly.
“Adequate, but not ideal.”
This rebuke was followed by another long silence, during which Mrs. Carnivera made some laborious notes on her clipboard. She then strode into the kitchen so briskly they had to run to keep up with her.
“Where are your safety locks?” She demanded as she pulled open all of the drawers and cupboards. “What do you use to sanitize your dishes? Are the children on a nutritious diet?”
Mrs. Nancy started to tremble. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Wendy didn’t blame her for being flustered. Mrs. Carnivera looked like a tornado tearing the kitchen apart. Plus, the woman was hard to understand. She had a tendency to start and end her sentences rapidly but slow down in the middle.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Nancy squeaked, “I believe I left the wash running upstairs.” She excused herself and rushed out. Wendy sighed and Mrs. Carnivera turned to her, looking expectant. Wendy stood up straight and stepped forward. She refused to be afraid of this woman. Although, it was a bit easier for her. She didn’t have as much to lose.
“We teach the children to be cautious and trust them to follow through, so we don’t use safety locks, except for some hazardous materials kept in the wash room,” Wendy explained. “The sanitizing supplies are above the sink,” she continued, “and we follow all the dietary guidelines set forth by the city.”
Mrs. Carnivera narrowed her eyes, and Wendy coolly returned the glare. After a subtle grunt, the woman scribbled some notes on her clip board, somehow keeping one eye on Wendy.
“Bring the children,” she ordered brusquely.
Mrs. Nancy, who had apparently been listening just outside of the kitchen, immediately began calling the boys from their rooms. All eight boys ran into the kitchen and lined up in front of Mrs. Carnivera as if they’d practiced it. In fact, Wendy suspected that they had.
Mrs. Carnivera walked deliberately down the row of smiling boys, her expression growing more sour with each child she passed. Suddenly, she whipped around, hunched over and came face to face with Oliver.
“You,” she spat, “do you feel that your needs are being met in this home?”
“No, I need more chocolate,” Oliver replied, matching her intensity.
She wrote another note and turned to Duke. “Do you feel that your voice is heard here?”
Duke furrowed his brow for a moment, but then broke into a smile. “It’s not when I talk like this,” he whispered, “BUT IT IS WHEN I TALK LIKE THIS!” He shouted.
Wendy stifled a giggle. She knew things were not going well, but who would think to ask such questions of young children?
Undeterred, Mrs. Carnivera continued down the line. “Whe
re do you go to school?” She asked Arthur, one of the boys that had come to them last week.
“I go to St. Joseph’s down the street, but Trevor goes to the Ashbury School for the gifted,” Arthur answered, peering at Trevor down the line.
The woman eagerly stepped past Zachary and Eugene to face Trevor. “Are there adequate materials and activities here to suit your interests?” She inquired.
Trevor scratched his nose. “I guess,” he admitted. “I just wish we had more advanced computers to play with. When I take them apart, it’s too easy to put them back together again.”
Mrs. Carnivera stared at him. Who wouldn’t? Not many five-year-olds could dismantle and reassemble a computer, and Trevor had done it multiple times. But the woman wasn’t staring at him in awe. Wendy couldn’t quite read her expression, but she looked almost hungry. After a few moments, Mrs. Carnivera turned her attention to Matthew.
“Do you receive adequate support and education here to excel in your studies?” She barked at him.
Matthew was so startled by her abrupt manner that he fell backwards. Wendy and Mrs. Nancy rushed to help him stand up again.
“Well, answer me, boy,” Mrs. Carnivera demanded.
The lad was shaken, and his lower lip began to tremble. Wendy took his hand to try and soothe him, but Mrs. Carnivera swatted it away.
“Don’t coddle him!” She yelled. “He’s nearly a man, he can answer for himself.”
Matthew looked miserable. He was trying valiantly not to cry, but seemed afraid to open his mouth. Suddenly, Wendy saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she realized what was happening, it was too late.
Nana had appeared at the door and Zachary, likely believing it to be the best course of action, had let her in. Nana immediately bounded over to Mrs. Carnivera, knocking the woman over in her excitement to welcome the stranger.
“Get it off me!” The woman screamed as Nana voraciously licked her face. Matthew tried feebly to remove the dog from Mrs. Carnivera, but Nana persisted. Arthur jumped in and grabbed Nana around the middle to haul her off, which resulted in the dog retching all over Mrs. Carnivera’s face and hair. Now Mrs. Nancy sprang to action, running over to assist the cursing woman, but she slipped on the vomit. She tried to catch her fall by grabbing the oven handle, and the force of her grip ripped the door clean off, sending hastily stashed debris flying into the air.
Prince of Gulbrania Page 21