Always Neverland

by Zoe Barton

  “Well, we could try scaring them out,” Prank said innocently. “We did that one year too.”

  So, I flew as close to the Never bird as I dared and shouted, “Boo!”

  The Never bird cocked its head toward me and stared at me with one black beady eye, clucking in a disapproving way. If it could talk, I’m sure that it would’ve said, You didn’t really think that would work, did you?

  “No, like this.” Prank burst through the leaves, just a couple feet from the Never bird, yelling and waving his arms. With a squawk, the bird launched itself into the air toward him, but as soon as Prank retreated, it sailed right back to its nest and settled back over its eggs possessively.

  Prank scratched his head sheepishly. “I guess they still remember us trying that before.”

  “Why don’t we just tap it on the shoulder and see if it’ll give us a ride somewhere?” I said.

  I meant it as a joke, but Kyle said, “Good idea.”

  He flew up really close to the Never bird we couldn’t scare.

  Then, grinning, he jumped on the Never bird’s back. The bird didn’t like it one bit. It squawked and screeched furiously while Kyle clung to its neck like a cowboy at a rodeo.

  I’ll tell you one thing: Kyle was pretty gutsy. The bird was bigger than he was.

  “Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Prank said, sounding faintly jealous as the bird flew jerkily, trying to knock the littlest Lost Boy off its back.

  “The nest! The nest!” Kyle’s voice was muffled against the feathers.

  I took one side of the nest, and Prank took the other. We flew it to the neighboring tree, and just as we settled it safely on a new branch, the bird finally succeeded in bucking Kyle off. At first, the Never bird didn’t seem happy to find its nest in the new location. Then it landed over the eggs, folding its wings prissily, as if to tell us that this was the tree it really wanted to be in the whole time.

  “That worked well,” I said, pleased.

  “That was awesome!” said Kyle, still laughing. He had feathers in his hair.

  “My turn!” Dibs cried, leaping from the grass and zooming into the Tree Home toward the next nest. Button followed close behind. Peter zipped up beside me and grinned, the feather on Hook’s hat blowing in the breeze.

  It didn’t surprise me much that everyone wanted to help with the Never birds now that it wasn’t boring.

  What surprised me was that suddenly, I was the only one who had to take charge. Being naturally bossy turned out to be kind of helpful.

  “Wait, let’s do this right and have a real contest,” Prank said as I flew around the Tree Home, counting nests. “One at a time. I’ll go last.” Peter gave him a look, and Prank added hastily, “I mean, second to last. Peter goes last, of course.”

  “Okay, there are twenty-one nests,” I said, expecting the Lost Boys to rally to attention.

  That definitely didn’t happen.

  “Me first!” Dibs cried, zooming toward the closest Never bird.

  “Wait a sec!” I cried. “Button, help me with the nest.”

  Button looked disappointed, but he came with me anyway. Dibs pounced on the Never bird, holding on behind the wings instead of around the neck. As soon as the bird started flying, Button and I grabbed the nest, and Peter and the Lost Boys started chanting, “One, two, three . . .”

  We settled the nest quickly on the other tree. You could actually hear the bird pecking Dibs. Mainly because he shouted, “Ouchies! Ouchies!”

  At the count of fifteen, Dibs let go, sliding off the bird’s back and rubbing the peck marks on his arms.

  “My turn!” Button said, rushing forward, which meant that I had to grab Kyle to help me with the next nest.

  It was like that the whole time. Mom would’ve been proud of how responsible I was.

  I moved every single nest, but I had to keep recruiting a new Lost Boy to help me every time I did it. Like Button, they kept getting distracted by the contest and leaving as soon as we relocated a nest.

  Dibs always held his arms in the wrong place. The Never birds could peck him, and he could only stand so many pecks before letting go. Button had it tough too. The Never birds couldn’t carry his weight when he was on their back. Bird and boy plummeted immediately, and Button had to keep jumping off before they struck the ground. Kyle was probably the best among the Lost Boys. He was so little that the Never birds took a little while to notice what was on their backs.

  Even though the contest had been his idea, Prank didn’t get a chance to try at all. Every time he got close, the Never bird flew into a rage, squawking and nipping at his outstretched hands.

  “I think they remember you, Prank,” Dibs said, laughing.

  “They couldn’t,” Prank said, peeking out from the branch he was hiding behind to make sure it was safe. “I haven’t collected tail feathers in ages.”

  “He used to pluck them out,” Button explained to me.

  I snorted. “Well, wouldn’t you remember if someone yanked out chunks of your hair?”

  Only one Never bird gave us real trouble, though. It happened about halfway through the contest.

  Kyle landed on her back and got her out of the tree just fine, but when Button and I tried to move the nest, it wouldn’t budge. It was way too heavy.

  “Why does it weigh so much more than the others?” I asked Button, staring at the nest.

  Without a word, Button pointed at the eggs—or rather the stones. They were smooth river rocks, the same size and shape as the other Never birds’ eggs, but they were definitely not eggs.

  Outside the tree, the Never bird twisted in midair, and Kyle fell off.

  The bird landed in her nest and nipped at Button and me, forcing us back. She crouched over her stones protectively and squawked at us, just like they were real eggs.

  It made me feel a little sorry for her. “You do know that they won’t hatch, right?” I said gently.

  The Never bird sat down on top of her nest, spreading her wings carefully, and then she stared at me and Button defiantly. Her feathers were the same dappled color as the gray bark under her, but she had a black dot on her beak, which made it a lot easier to see her.

  “I think she knows,” Button said. “See how she’s littler than the other Never birds? Maybe she’s too young to lay eggs. She must be Pretending.”

  “Is that right, Spot? Do you mind if I call you Spot?” I asked, pointing to the mark on her beak. She didn’t squawk angrily or anything, so I guessed that meant she didn’t mind. “Are you Pretending?”

  Spot tilted her head at me and settled herself more comfortably over her egg-stones. I decided that meant yes.

  It wasn’t that hard to believe. Plenty of kids played house. Why couldn’t a young Never bird play nest?

  “We know how to handle those,” Prank said wickedly, flying up and drawing one leg back.

  Spot squawked furiously, and when I realized that Prank was planning to kick the nest out of the tree, I cried, “No! The eggs!”

  Prank gave me a look. “But why? They’re not real.”

  Button stared too, and even Spot clucked questioningly.

  It just didn’t seem right. I would hate it if I’d been playing make-believe and someone bigger and stronger than me messed it up.

  “We’re going to move it—all of us,” I said decisively. “Dibs, you too.” To the Never bird, I added, “Spot, would you mind moving for a sec? Otherwise, it might still be too heavy for us, and we might drop it.”

  Spot looked at me, and then at the Lost Boys, and then at her egg-stones, clucking over them uncertainly. For a second, I was afraid that she wouldn’t move, but then she took flight, gliding over to the other tree.

  It took all five of us to move the nest—with a little help from Pan. When one of the egg-stones fell out, Peter caught it. But we got the nest moved. When we settled it on the branch, the Lost Boys flew off to continue their contest, but when Spot landed, she rubbed her head against my hand. She was the only Never b
ird to acknowledge us after we moved a nest—let alone act grateful.

  Peter won the contest, of course. As soon as he hopped onto one of the Never birds, it glided off the branch, tame under his hands. It happened on all three of his turns.

  “That’s not fair,” Prank mumbled, watching Peter fly calmly around the clearing on the back of a Never bird yet again. He rubbed the side of his head, which he had knocked against a thick branch a few attempts earlier.

  “All the Never birds like Peter,” Dibs said.

  “He saved one of their nests once, a long time ago,” Button explained.

  “Then they should really like me.” I was sweating, and my pajama shirt was covered in enough feathers to fill a pillow. We had already relocated almost twenty nests. “Since I kept Prank from kicking all the nests out of the tree.”

  “I bet my way was better,” Prank said defensively. “I don’t see you risking your neck and jumping on any Never birds.”

  “She’s a girl,” Dibs said as we settled the nest on a new branch. “Girls are scared of Never birds.”

  They definitely had old-fashioned ideas about girls. Very annoying ones.

  “I am not,” I said, hands on my hips. First, they called me stupid. Then they called me a coward. I wasn’t going to put up with that any longer. “I would’ve done it right after Kyle, but I’ve been too busy carrying nests back and forth. Unlike some people.”

  “The Wendy girl should try,” Peter said, looking at me as he glided by on the Never bird’s back. I was especially annoyed that he was so bossy. I didn’t see him covered in feathers.

  “Fine,” I said, flying up.

  I almost lost my nerve when the Never bird looked straight at me, very suspicious.

  “Remember what Prank wanted to do to your nests,” I told it sternly, and I jumped. The Never bird took flight immediately, and I clung to its neck, waiting for it to start pecking. The feathers were so plush across its back that it felt like a warm pillow. When the wings beat and brushed my legs, they tickled my feet.

  “The Never birds like her, too!” Kyle cried, delighted. “Do they always like the Wendy girls?”

  I looked up, realizing that the bird wasn’t going to try to knock me off.

  “No,” Prank told Kyle in a quiet, slightly awed voice.

  The Lost Boys watched, gaping; and seeing the jealousy in Dibs’s face, I felt a surge of triumph. “Don’t forget the nest,” I pointed out smugly, and Button and Kyle rushed to get it.

  “That’s just one bird,” Prank said, crossing his arms. “Let’s see you do it again.”

  So, as soon as Button and Kyle settled the nest in the other tree, I flew over the second-to-last nest in the tree. The Never bird squawked uncertainly as I climbed onto its back, but other than that, it flew out of the Tree Home without a protest while the Lost Boys moved its nest.

  Before Prank could say anything else, I flew back and leaped onto the last Never bird. It sighed deeply through its beak and took flight, sailing around the clearing.

  “Three!” Kyle cried, a little out of breath from transporting so many nests one after the other. “That’s just as many as Peter.”

  “Yeah,” said Prank reluctantly. “Our new Wendy girl has a talent for Never birds.”

  Feeling incredibly pleased with myself, I scratched the Never bird’s head. It trilled happily as we lapped the clearing a second time.

  Then I saw Peter. His expression was stony.

  I remembered how he had acted when I did more cartwheels than he did, back among the stars.

  Too late, it occurred to me that he might have liked being the only one who could tame a Never bird. Nobody likes being shown up, especially by a visitor.

  “Well,” I said as modestly as I could, “I learn from the best.”

  Chapter 8.

  The Never Trees Attack Pirates

  Right after that, Prank started complaining that his stomach was growling, and when Button pointed out that they had missed lunch, Peter and Tink flew off to find us something to eat.

  He gave me a weird look as he went. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he was looking at me like I’d just shown up in the clearing—like he was seeing me for the first time. But all he said was “Lost Boys, make sure the Wendy girl doesn’t try to befriend any mermaids while I’m gone.”

  Most of the Lost Boys laughed like Peter had told them to stop me from making friends with Neverland’s crocodile or something equally outrageous. Only Button turned to me curiously. “You tried to make friends with the mermaids?”

  I shrugged, flushing a little and wishing Peter hadn’t brought it up. I had enough trouble winning the Lost Boys over without Peter making me seem idiotic.

  “Wendy girl, we can take a break until after dinner, right?” Kyle asked after Peter left. His shoulders drooped, like he was really tired. “I’m starving.”

  “Okay,” I said, more than happy to rest. Remembering how I’d almost dropped Dad’s camera earlier, I asked, “Is there a safe place I can hide my camera for the night? I don’t want to mess it up.”

  “There’s the hiding places,” Button suggested as he joined the others.

  “You can put it in mine!” Kyle said, flying down a few branches. Then he grasped a knob in the trunk firmly, twisted, and pulled. A big chunk of bark swung on hinges, revealing a locker space behind it.

  “Wow,” I said, passing the camera to Kyle. It was a bit shadowy inside the hiding place, and hard to see, but a very worn teddy bear peeked out.

  Kyle placed my dad’s camera inside with exaggerated care. “We all have one. Button made them.”

  I was starting to realize that Button made almost everything around the Tree Home.

  But I didn’t realize how tired I was until I sat down with the Lost Boys among the lower branches. Or maybe I was just really ready for dinner. I hadn’t eaten anything since pizza the night before.

  My stomach growled, so loudly that all the Lost Boys turned to stare.

  “I’m hungry too,” said Kyle with a huge sigh. “Too bad this isn’t a food tree.”

  I glanced at the branch above us, looking for apples or oranges or lemons I might have missed among the leaves. “I don’t see any fruit.”

  “A food tree,” said Dibs, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Suddenly, he reminded me a lot of Peter. “Don’t you know the difference?”

  “Of course she doesn’t,” Kyle said, scowling at Dibs. “Neverland is the only place that has food trees.”

  “We have fruit trees,” I said, thinking that they just weren’t saying the name right. “Is that what you mean?”

  “No,” said Button, Prank, Kyle, and Dibs together.

  “Food trees are special,” said Button. “Neverland didn’t always have them, but once, a Wendy girl brought a huge basket of food to Neverland to share with us Lost Boys. We had a picnic.”

  “After we finished eating, there was a lot left over. We started a food fight. It was my idea,” Prank added proudly.

  “The Wendy girl got mad—like a real mother would,” Dibs said. “She lectured us. She said, ‘Your mother has worked hard to prepare that meal for you. Food doesn’t grow on trees, you know.’”

  I wrinkled my nose. I’d heard that before. Grandma Delaney said it all the time. Was she the Wendy girl they meant?

  “But Peter said, ‘Says who?’” Kyle added excitedly.

  “How do you know? You weren’t there,” Dibs said.

  “I’ve heard the story.”

  “Then Peter scooped up handfuls of crumbs from the food fight, dug holes all around, and planted the crumbs like seeds,” said Button. “After he covered the crumbs with dirt and watered them, he Pretended with all his might.”

  “The next day, the clearing where we’d eaten the picnic had become a grove of food trees,” said Prank.

  “Can Peter do that?” I said, surprised.

  “He’s Peter Pan,” Dibs said, scoffingly. “He can do anything.”
/>   “I don’t know if the Pretending would’ve worked anywhere else, though,” Button said with a thoughtful frown. “It’s part of Neverland’s magic.”

  “Does that mean that Spot’s stone eggs will hatch?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Button.

  “Doubt it,” Prank said. “It takes a strong imagination to Pretend that well.”

  “Like Peter’s,” said Dibs, very proudly.

  “Anyway, the grove has a bunch of different food trees,” said Kyle.

  “But the trees all bloom at different times,” Button explained. “If we find one ready to eat, we tell Tiger Lily and her braves what it is, and they do the same for us. Tiger Lily actually came by today to tell us that the cheeseburger tree is almost ripe.”

  At the word cheeseburger, my stomach growled again. I groaned. “Can we not talk about food for a little while? Please?”

  Peter came back with dinner at sunset—an armful of huge roast beef sandwiches, wrapped in brown paper. I didn’t realize that food trees grew stuff like that, but since the Lost Boys didn’t say anything, I figured it was normal.

  We ate silently and enthusiastically. The feather on Hook’s hat kept falling into Peter’s face until he finally lost patience and dropped the hat onto Dibs’s head. Dibs looked absolutely delighted.

  We sat among the highest branches of the Tree Home. From the next tree over, the relocated Never birds watched us. It actually made me a little nervous. Like they were planning to reconquer the Tree Home or something.

  Spot clucked nervously. It was a warning. Peter stood up, a hand on his golden sword, listening intently, and the Lost Boys and I craned our necks toward the ground.

  We heard the pirates complaining before we saw them.

  “I’m so hungry,” moaned one.

  “I can’t go on,” replied a second. “I see them little black spots, dancing in front of me eyes.”

  “We’ll find supper when we find Peter Pan,” said someone else cheerfully.

  Button recognized that third voice and whispered, “It’s Smee.”

  “Cook says Pan’s nicked it,” Smee continued.