Always Neverland
Page 20
“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.”
Peter took it and turned it over and over in his hands. He began to unwrap it, much more slowly than the Lost Boys had unwrapped theirs.
I tried to think of something to say, something other than good-bye. “Am I your favorite Wendy girl?”
“No.”
He sounded so sure that I felt stupid for even asking.
“You’re my favorite Ashley,” he said quietly, with a very small smile.
The wrappings fell to the floor, and Peter stared at the framed picture in his hands.
“It’s us. All of us. At the mermaids’ dinner.” I couldn’t keep myself from babbling. “Button helped me make the frame.”
When Peter looked up, I saw his eyes glittered a little, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who was sad.
“It’s to remember me by,” I said softly, but my voice cracked. I knew exactly where he would put it, and I couldn’t bear to think that I would be just another memory in his bookcase.
“Why?” Peter said, straightening up with a fierce glare. “Aren’t you coming back?”
“Can I come back?” I said, beginning to smile.
“I suppose you don’t want to now,” Peter said, folding his arms over the frame and scowling so hard that I knew his feelings were hurt.
“I thought you didn’t want me to come!” I said happily, throwing my arms around him.
His shoulders stiffened, and I let him go, embarrassed. Then Peter smiled so widely that I was tempted to hug him again.
“I mean, I got three people kidnapped,” I pointed out.
“You specialize in rescue,” Peter said, and my smile grew. Then he ruined it by adding, “I must’ve rubbed off on you.”
I shook my head fondly. So I wasn’t ready when Peter tossed me something. I just barely caught it in time, but then I opened my hand to find another wooden whistle, almost identical to my mother’s but a little longer and more slender. I looked up in surprise.
“Use that to call me when you need to.” Peter ducked through the window, hovering just outside, with a fist on each hip. “You’re pretty good at having adventures, you know.”
He waved once and flew faster, the frame tucked under his arm, joining a little zigzagging light. Clutching the whistle, I watched as he and Tink disappeared through the clouds, and then I watched a little longer.
I was sorry to see him go. After everything that had happened in Neverland, it was hard to believe that I could have any adventures in normal life.
But I was wrong. After all, it was Christmas Eve.
“Ashley!” my mom called up the stairs as the front door creaked open. “Hurry! I called the Christmas tree place—we only have half an hour before they close.”
“Your mom is making them hold a pretty one for us,” Dad added.
I tore my gaze away from the sky. “Coming!” I shouted, sprinting for the stairs.
Acknowledgments
I have so many people to thank that I hardly know where to start! Many readers don’t realize how many individuals work on a book before it hits the shelves, but I feel lucky to have met several of the following in person.
First off, I want to thank the lovely team who supported this novel when it was just an idea. Barbara Lalicki, my wonderful editor, who wanted to hear Wendy’s story and asked me to tell it. Maria Gomez, who read an early version of the first chapters and laughed in all the right places. Laura Arnold, who always had a sympathetic ear when I got overwhelmed. Rosemary Brosnan, who said some kind words that gave me a lot of confidence. And Jena Rascoe, who knew I could do it before I did.
Countless other people at HarperCollins Children’s Books have worked hard behind the scenes. Alexandra Bracken, former editorial assistant and copywriting queen, who suggested many brilliant solutions to our revision troubles. Maggie Herold, who is probably the kindest production editor I know. Kathryn Hinds, my fantastic copy editor, who did a really wonderful job of entering Neverland and untangling some fuzzy time lines (among other things). And Erin Fitzsimmons, who made this book look pretty—both inside and out.
Last but definitely not least, I need to add a special thank-you to my family and friends—especially Mom and Dad, who should get
the Most Supportive Parents in the World Award. I don’t know where I would be without them. And Angela, my dear ex-roomie, who endured me taking over our big yellow couch and talking her ear off about mermaids and Never birds while I worked out the plot of this book.
Thank you all so much!
About the Author
ZOE BARTON grew up in Charlotte, North Carolina, and graduated from Vassar College. After working in publishing for a year, she left New York City to write full-time. She currently divides her time between North Carolina and Montana. This is her first novel.
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Credits
Jacket art © 2011 by Tim Jessell
Jacket design by Oceana Garceau
Copyright
Always Neverland
Copyright © 2011 by HarperCollins Publishers
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Barton, Zoe.
Always Neverland / Zoe Barton. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Ashley is whisked away from her home by Peter Pan to help the Lost Boys with spring cleaning, but this “Wendy Girl’s” love of adventure brings changes that are not enjoyed by all of Neverland’s inhabitants.
ISBN 978-0-06-196325-4 (trade bdg.)
[1. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 2. Peter Pan (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 3. Never-Never Land (Imaginary place)—Fiction. 4. Fairies—Fiction. 5. Sex role—Fiction. 6. Christmas—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B28562Ash 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010045623
CIP
AC
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11 12 13 14 15 LP/RRDB 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
EPub Edition © SEPTEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780062093172
First Edition
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