by Shari Arnold
“I know what you thought,” he says quickly. “That much was obvious.”
I look down, feeling bad now for the things I yelled at him and the punching and flailing as well. “I’m sorry I—”
“There’s no need to apologize, Livy. Or thank me.” He leans against the wall.
“Well, I… Thank you… I mean.” I stop myself. There are so many things I want to ask him, but I just settle with, “Why?”
“Why did I save her?” When I nod he shrugs it off and stares back down the hallway. “Sometimes the world needs a miracle. Hope, I find, can go a long way.”
He tilts his head at me and smiles, and I can’t stop myself, I reach up and wrap my arms around him, needing to share the things I’m feeling, but am unable to say. The strangest part about it is he hugs me back. Being held by James feels comfortable. And safe. I think about the things he tried to teach me when he was my tutor, how he wanted me to believe that nothing is lost forever. It’s strange how I fought his words so passionately only to force them on Meyer a short time later.
Once we’ve pulled away he puts on his coat like he’s getting ready to leave.
I have so many questions for him. I want to know how things are with Jenna. Has she decided to move on yet? Will she soon? And what does that mean, exactly?
“What is it, Livy? What is it you want to ask me?” James asks, seemingly reading my mind.
“What now?” I say. “What do we do now?” Does he go back to being my tutor? Do I go on pretending that what happened didn’t actually happen? That Meyer was never a part of my world?
“You’re not supposed to know everything, Livy,” he tells me, flashing me one of his charismatic smiles. “You’re just supposed to keep trying.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
When James walks away I figure that’s the last time I’ll see him, and I’m pretty sure of it until he shows up in my lobby a few months later. He’s waiting for me when I get home from school. Just sitting in one of the lobby chairs with his legs crossed, like he’s any other normal person, waiting to meet someone.
“I thought we could grab some ice cream,” he tells me. “Since it’s such a nice day today.” He points out the window where spring is just becoming reacquainted with Seattle. Up until the moment I recognized James I was feeling lighthearted myself, but not now. Now I worry he has some dark reason for visiting me. He is death, after all.
“It’s just ice cream,” he says, reading my hesitation. “And before you ask, yes, you’re mom knows I’m here. She was very happy to see me again.” He takes in my sudden panic and quickly reassures me, “And, no, I didn’t kill your mother. She’s fine, Livy. You’re both fine. I just want to chat.”
“Chat?” I ask, not completely convinced.
“And eat ice cream,” he says with a smile. “My treat.”
“Well, then. If you’re buying…” I give him a half teasing look, “And you’re not here to, you know, throw me in front of a moving bus, then I guess it’s fine” I point to the door and gesture for him to follow me out.
We don’t speak much on our way to Molly’s. Once or twice I almost ask him about Meyer, but then I stop myself. After the last time I saw James I spent quite a few days trying to track down Meyer’s friends, but I never had any luck. Eventually I just stopped trying. I figure if he wants to see me he will. And until that happens — even though I don’t like it — I’m forced to move on. He promised me once that he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, and there’s a part of me still holding him to that promise. I stare at Jenna’s picture every night before I fall asleep. It’s now the one thing I have to look at before I close my eyes. And it isn’t Jenna I think of when I study it, I think of him. When I think of Jenna I imagine her in a pink dress sleeping under a Neverland sky. And it doesn’t tear me in two any longer. Not like it used to.
James orders strawberry ice cream, which is such a happy flavor I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s always been my favorite,” he tells me a bit defensively. “What about you? Still ordering Bubble Gum Jenna?”
“Actually, I prefer Mint Chocolate Chip,” I tell him and the girl behind the counter.
James raises an eyebrow and takes a bite of his ice cream, not entirely convinced.
“It’s not as sweet,” I say with a shrug. “And theirs is really good here.”
Once we’re seated he asks me what’s new and I tell him how I’m back in school now and how I’ve taken up ice skating. It was quite a surprise for my father, actually, when, just after Jilly had recovered and was soon to be released, I came racing into his office and demanded he take me ice skating. And Jilly as well. I made him promise we’d go as soon as she was up for it, and he kept his promise about a week later. Now he takes us every week, staying for our lesson, and then we all stop to get hot chocolate on the way home. I suspect the hot chocolate is Jilly’s favorite part. And my father’s as well. Not the ice skating.
“I’m in the beginner’s class,” I tell James, grimacing at the floor. “And, yeah, I’m the oldest kid in the class, but I don’t care because it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“I think that’s great,” James says smiling at me from across the table. “Who knows, maybe you won’t break your arm.”
When I look up at him with alarm, he laughs, and I kick him under the table.
After his laughter has died down we both turn back to our ice cream. There are still a hundred things I’d love to ask him, but I hold myself back. I’m not afraid of him any longer. I still feel that energy about him, but it doesn’t frighten me the way it used to.
“How is she?” I ask when I can’t hold it in any longer. “Is she still—?”
“She’s where she needs to be.” James finishes his ice cream and stands up. I take it that’s all he’s willing to give me, but it’s not enough.
“Is she… does she still remember me?”
James stands by the open door, waiting for me, and once I’m through it he whispers his reply. “There isn’t anything I can tell you that you don’t already know.”
I glare up at him, hating these puzzles of his, and he simply smiles back.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he tells me as we’re leaving Molly Moon’s. He leads me though the park just a street or two away and it’s so nice out, I don’t mind the detour. With the sun finally shining after three straight months of rain, the park is crowded today. There are children on the swings; their laughter spills over the grass toward us, and it makes me think of Jenna. A few kids are playing Frisbee and we take the long way around them to get across the grass.
“Here we are,” James says as we approach a smattering of trees, and I glance up, searching for this mysterious person he’s dragged me to meet.
There’s a young man sitting against a tree, his knees are up as he sketches into a sketchbook. His face is turned away from me as he focuses on his work and I don’t recognize him at first. But then he glances up and I come to a complete stop.
James touches his hand to my arm. “He won’t remember you,” he says. “He doesn’t remember anything.”
“What?” I force out, feeling as though my chest might explode. For the last few months I’ve been searching in shadows for any possible glimpse of Meyer. And to have James lead me up to him so nonchalantly is more than I can handle right now.
“I plan to introduce you, Livy. It’s why I’ve brought you here.” He gestures to the small distance between us and gives me an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “But I can’t do that, can I, if you don’t move forward.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean he doesn’t remember anything?” I keep staring at him, still not believing he’s here. I’d almost convinced myself I’d never see him again.
“He was given options and he made his choice.”
“Choice?” I pull my eyes away from Meyer and gaze up at James in confusion. “What choice?”
“To come here, Livy. To live as you do. He
’s always had the option. He just never seemed that interested in it.”
“You mean he…?”
“Yes, he left Neverland. He gave it up for a chance at a real life.”
“Oh.” Wow. “So that means…?”
“He doesn’t remember anything from his time before. There are rules. He won’t remember you. He won’t remember any of it.”
No. It’s not possible.
I gaze back at the boy under the tree. He is watching us curiously, but he hasn’t moved from his spot.
“What about Neverland?” I whisper, without taking my eyes off Meyer.
“What about Neverland?”
I spin toward him, nearly knocking him over. “What about the children? Who’s watching them? How—”
James rests his hand on my arm in an attempt to calm me down. “There has always been someone willing to take the role.” He pauses for a moment and then adds, “And she’s doing a great job so far.”
I stare up at James, unable to comprehend all of this. He just blinks back.
“He did ask that your memory of him not be erased,” he tells me.
“What?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“He asked me to let you keep your memories when you returned. He wanted you to have the freedom to remember. He hoped you would not forget.”
“I didn’t forget,” I say, my eyes returning to Meyer.
“No. I can see that.” James shifts his feet impatiently. “So may I begin the introduction then?”
“Yes. Sure.” I’m not really listening, I’m too busy trying to wrap my head around all of this. Meyer left Neverland. And he doesn’t remember me.
James takes a step forward but when he notices I’m not following he turns back.
“I figured he never wanted to see me again. I’ve believed all this time that he wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s not true,” James says with an impatient sigh.
“What? Why?”
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
I continue to stare over at Meyer, still not quite believing. Yes. He is here.
“I imagine you had a lot to do with his decision to leave Neverland,” James tells me. “Can’t imagine what else it could have been.”
Was it really me? I flash back to that last morning in Neverland and the word, “everything.” That word has haunted me these last few months. Still does.
“So?” James gestures to the path. “Are we doing this or what? Perhaps you’d rather not. It is your choice, Livy.”
“Yes,” I say. “We are definitely doing this.”
Meyer is still watching as we make our way across the lawn toward him. He puts his sketchbook down, making sure to close the book, and then he gets to his feet.
“This is Livy, one of my previous students,” James says to Meyer. I smile up at him, still a bit shaky. “This is Meyer,” James continues. “He attends my drawing class.”
“You’re a student?” I ask, reaching out to shake Meyer’s hand. When he touches me I feel a surge of energy, a warmth stronger than my memories. At least that hasn’t changed. I can’t take my eyes off of him.
“Yes,” he says, his voice so familiar. “At UDUB.”
“Oh.” I smile. “So you’re in college.”
“Yes.” Meyer smiles back.
I realize I’ve been staring at him quite blatantly and I quickly look away. “So you draw then?”
“Yes.”
“Like I said,” James says, looking at me rather pointedly, “he’s in my drawing class.”
“Right.” What is wrong with me? Meyer must think I’m a complete idiot! And this is going to be his first impression of me? Wonderful.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Meyer,” I say, doing my best to sound relaxed.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Livy.” There’s a gleam in his eyes and I take that as a good sign. Perhaps he’s figured out I’m not completely hopeless, just entertaining.
We stand there a bit longer, just staring at each other— and grinning — until James finally says, “Alright then. We should be off.” He nods at Meyer and tells him how he’s looking forward to seeing more of his work in class, and then he takes my arm and leads me away.
“See you later,” I call back over my shoulder, not entirely committed to leaving, but nonetheless being dragged away.
Meyer lifts a hand in a wave. He is still watching as we leave.
“I can’t believe it,” I mutter to myself. “How long has he been here? When did he start school?” I turn and look up at James. “You teach art now?”
“He’s been here about a month or so.” He lifts an eyebrow, studying me closely. “He’s quite partial to this park. Comes here every day to sketch. Even the rainy days.” He points at the gazebo near the children’s playground. “He sits in there when it gets too rainy. Just in case you’re curious.”
“So he’s been here over a month and you’re just telling me now?” I slap James across the shoulder and he stares down at my hand, obviously displeased.
“There were other things on my mind, you know. I’m actually quite busy.”
“Right.” I look away sheepishly. I guess following my life isn’t the only thing he has going on.
“And you had some things you needed to work out as well,” he adds, bumping my shoulder the way Sheila always does. He stops for a minute, turning so that we’re face to face. “I must say, I’m rather pleased with how this has all worked out.” He turns back to the path, his hands in his pockets. “Rather pleased indeed.”
The next day is Saturday. I wake up long before anyone else is awake in my house, long before I should be up. But I can’t help it. I have plans. I eat breakfast and clean the kitchen, even though it doesn’t need it. I don’t know what time Meyer usually gets to the park, but on a beautiful Saturday like today I’m hoping it will be on the early side. My plan is to arrive around lunchtime; I’ve even packed a light lunch. And I’ll wait all day if I have to. I can’t wait to see him again.
I hold my breath as I near the park and then let it out in one loud poof of air. He’s back in his same spot, sitting by the tree. My steps are unhurried as I approach him. The nervousness I feel could fuel my mom’s car for a month. It took me all night to come up with this plan, but now that I’m here I’m second-guessing it.
I have it in my head that he’ll notice me before I make it over to him. I’m hoping he’ll smile and ask me to sit down. But the closer I get the less likely my fantasy will come true. He’s concentrating so completely on his drawing he doesn’t even notice me. I stand there for a minute, studying his face. His hair looks a bit longer than it was in Neverland. It hangs over his right eye, hiding his brilliant green eyes from me completely. He reaches up and brushes his hair back, and for the first time I get a good look at his drawing. The girl on the sketchbook is so meticulously drawn and detailed she almost looks real. Like a black-and-white photograph. Her eyes are wide and expressive, her smile a perfect depiction of happiness. I stare at her not quite believing what I’m seeing. The girl he sketches looks just like me. Meyer has drawn me. Even down to the dusting of freckles along the bridge of my nose.
“I’ve been working on this for a while,” he says, making me jump. “A few weeks now actually.” He glances up, his eyes sparkling. “I didn’t know her name until yesterday.”
“Livy,” I say stupidly. “My name is Livy.”
“I know,” he says, smiling. “I remember.”
“So you’ve been sketching me? Even before we met?”
“Strange, right?” Meyer says.
“Yes.” Strange.
“It gets stranger. This isn’t my only one. I have more at home.” He glances back down at the sketch, as do I, both of us staring at the girl who is so familiar. “Would you like to see them one day?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately. “I’d love that.”
I stare at him a minute longer until his smile widens and I realize I’m doing it a
gain, staring at him like a fool.
“I didn’t think I’d see you today, Livy,” he says, looking at me expectantly.
“I…um… I thought…” I slide my hands into my front pockets. “Since it’s such a nice day out.” I quit my rambling and start again. “Do you swim?”
“Do I swim?”
“Um…yeah? There’s this place where a lot of kids go. The warm springs, so the water is warm. I thought you might like it.”
“And this place… is it near here?”
“Yes. It’s just a short drive, actually.” I point back to where my car is parked near the sidewalk. “I can drive us. If you want?”
Meyer smiles up at me, but doesn’t make any motion to leave. What am I thinking? He doesn’t remember me. To him I’m some strange girl he met yesterday! Why would he want to go somewhere with me?
“I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought—”
“Because it’s so nice out and all… Yes. You said.”
“Right.” I look down at the ground, anywhere but into his laughing eyes.
He closes his book with a snap and I jump again.
“Alright then. Let’s do it.” He climbs to his feet and I back up a few steps, giving him space. But he just moves closer. “I don’t have a swimming suit, though? Do you?”
“No, but you kind of don’t need one, you know? Nobody really swims, they just jump.”
Meyer looks at me like he doesn’t get it, so I continue: “You see, there’s this big rock you jump off, into the water, and then when you’re done there’s a place where you can get warm and dry off.” I’m talking with my hands now, not really making much sense. But I can’t stop myself.
“Oh, I see.” His eyes are narrowed while he contemplates what I’ve just told him. “Have you jumped from this rock before?”
“No. I usually just watch.” I shake my head. “Never tried it myself.”
“And this is something you want to do?”
“Well, I thought it might be fun… that you might think it might be fun.”
“To jump off a big rock?” he asks, studying me closely.