“Hee-hee,” was the only answer given to his question. Smee’s red cheeks were a bright contrast to his white sideburns, glowing like stubbled, rosy red apples.
Getting nowhere with the ship’s doctor, Archie edged around him, and made his way down the stairs. The smell worsened with each step he took. He reached in his pocket for his handkerchief and pressed it to his nose as he reached the hold.
Boggs stood with a crusty-looking paddle in hand, looking pensive, as he stared down into an open barrel. He seemed oblivious to the stench that surrounded him as he stuck the paddle down and thwacked it on the insides of the barrel. The contents made squishing sounds as he stirred and the reek became worse to the point that Archie began gagging through the handkerchief.
“Whatever it is you are doing, I will beg you to stop,” Archie managed between breathless gasps.
“Oh, aye, Cap’n. Sorry to upset your sensitivies, I am,” Boggs answered, looking up from the barrel. “It’s just that I be trying to figure out how it turned so quick, ye see.”
“What’s turned?”
“Some of the fruit the lads brought aboard. Ye see, we be runnin’ low on rum, Cap’n, and with no port to be found, I figured to make a bit of wine. Nothing much, mind ye, only a bit of an experiment, ye might say, being as your barrel turned so well in such a short time.”
Attention piqued, Archie made his way to Boggs’s experiment to have a better look. A crusty, brown mash with yellow streaks lay squished against the sides of the barrel.
“What fruit was this, did you say?” Archie asked.
“Not sure, Cap’n. Looked to be something between an apple and a pear. The lads be callin’ it ‘neverfruit.’ Was sweet enough, I gave one a try before I put the others in there and mashed ’em up.”
“You’re making wine out of a strange fruit that you’ve never seen before,” Archie said, a tone of incredulity seeping into his words.
“Mmph,” Boggs replied, shrugging his shoulders, as if it weren’t an issue to be bothered with. Then, he added as if in afterthought, “I’ve had worse. Smee said he would be the first to try it, so as not to poison the lads.”
Well, Smee’s sudden sense of nobility makes it all better then, Archie thought, shaking his head in despair. He’d seen Smee drunk, but never gleefully so. “I’m thinking it may be a bit strong, even for the likes of our good doctor.”
“Aye, I be thinking we might water it down a bit,” Boggs said in a thoughtful manner, “But don’t tell the lads, Cap’n. I have no want to be thrown overboard for diluting their spirits.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Boggs. You have nothing to fear,” Archie said, turning to make his way back up to deck. He stopped at the steps, eyeing Smee. “You shouldn’t give him anymore unless it is watered down. Whatever the name of your concoction, I believe he’s had more of it than he can handle.”
“I haven’t a clue what I be callin’ it yet, other than frightfully stout. Ye have me word, Cap’n. Mr. Smee will no’ be havin’ any more of it ’til I get it right.” Boggs’s voice sounded like an echo. Archie glanced over his shoulder. The man had his head shoved down in the barrel, inspecting his creation.
He will be as smashed as Smee, Archie thought, shaking his head. As if his thoughts had been read, another high-pitched giggle came from the steps.
Edging around Smee, Archie made his way up top and found another surprise sitting atop the mast. Peter sat, dangling his feet back and forth, looking bored.
“I was just getting ready to call for you,” Harper materialized at Archie’s side, looking troubled. “He flew over the ship and landed right next to me on the rigging.”
“Hello, Peter,” Archie called out. “How are you today?”
“As well as ever, I’d say.” A wide grin spread across the boy’s face as he got to his feet and walked down the length of the beam. He did so as easily as Harper, as if he’d spent time on the narrow mast, though Archie knew that wasn’t the case. The reason for the nonchalant way of balancing on the board was lack of fear. After all, when one could fly, there would be no fear of falling.
Peter demonstrated Archie’s thoughts by hopping off the end of the beam and dropping to the deck, so slowly that it seemed he was walking down instead of flying or falling. As he neared, Archie made out a familiar being perched on Peter’s shoulder.
“Why, Miss Bell, I am pleased to see you again.” Archie smiled at the golden pixie. The smile melted away when he realized that she looked different from the last time he had seen her. Her color had dulled and one wing hung at an odd angle. “What has happened to her?” he asked Peter.
“The royal pixies punished her, as I told you they would, but I saved her.”
“Oh, no. I am very sorry, my dear.” Archie didn’t think the apology sufficed, though the pixie gave him a warm smile and made light, bell tones as if saying everything was fine and all was forgiven.
“Will she heal?” he asked Peter.
“Oh, yes. She’ll be flying and back to usual by tomorrow. Every wound heals quickly on Neverland, so she’ll be good as new,” Peter answered, staring at something behind Archie. “Why do you have a boy here? Did he come with you from the grown-up star?”
“Who…” Archie began, as he turned to see what had caught the boy’s attention.
Harper stood by the steps, his arms crossed over his chest. His face looked inquisitive, in spite of his rigid stance. Archie guessed that he was as curious of Peter as Peter was of him, though he was attempting not to show it.
“Peter, this is Harper. He is one of my crew, and, yes, he did come with us.”
“Is he a boy? He looks like one. He doesn’t look like you,” Peter said in a conversational tone.
“I am a man,” Harper announced, cutting Archie off before he could speak. The curious look had left the lad’s face, replaced with a fierce one that glowered at Peter. “I am a pirate, and a part of this ship’s crew. I am not a boy.”
“I think he is right. He just looks like a boy, but he speaks like a grown-up,” Peter told Archie, “He has wrinkles around his mouth. It means he’s old.”
Archie fought to keep from smiling. Those wrinkles were a product of having no front teeth. “Yes, I suppose he is older than you might have thought,” he conceded. He heard Harper curse under his breath.
“That’s too bad,” Peter said, “The Lost Boys would have been happy to have another boy join them.”
“The Lost Boys? Who are they?”
“They are the ones that I brought from the grown-up star, but there aren’t many of them left. Tic-Tock has eaten a lot of them.” Peter scowled. The expression was echoed on the face of Miss Bell.
“Would Beetles and Patch be two of your troupe?” Archie asked.
“Yes,” Peter said, jumping up to sit on a water barrel. Looking bored, he searched his pocket and came out with a small, wooden flute. He put it to his lips and gave it an experimental puff.
Archie grimaced. From the scratching, shrill tones, it was obvious the boy didn’t have a clue how to play. “One of my men saved Beetles from the croc, just as he was about to be eaten,” Archie said, hoping to get the boy to talk instead of blow on his flute.
The diversion worked. Peter’s head flew up at the mention of the crocodile and a hard expression came over his face. “No one told me about that. Nothing happens on Neverland that I don’t know about.”
“Well, it happened just the same, and I assure you that I am not lying. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes,” Archie said.
“I told them not to go near Tic-Tock, but Beetles never listens. It was probably him,” Peter said darkly as he stood up. In the next second, he was flying to the island without so much as a goodbye to anyone on the ship.
“Well, that was odd,” Archie said, watching the boy disappear over the trees.
“I think he’s a death guardian,” Harper said, catching Archie’s full attention.
“I beg your pardon?”
“That boy—
Peter. I think he’s a death guardian,” he repeated. At Archie’s silence, he continued, “Me mum used to tell us bedtime stories. In one of her tales, there was an elfin guardian with pointed ears. You did notice that Peter has pointed ears, didn’t you?”
Archie nodded. The boy didn’t look like an elf, in Archie’s opinion, but there was a bit of a point to his ears. He waited for Harper to continue his tale.
“Well, the death guardians were in charge of ferrying souls to the underworld. There was one Mum was fond of telling us, of a guardian who became lonely. His name was Pan. He was given charge of the children who died, and told to keep them safe as their souls crossed over. At first, Pan did as the gods bade and ferried the children to the underworld. But as time went on and years went by, he grew restless—and lonely. He began taking the children to a special place, a place only he knew, so that they would always keep him company—so he wouldn’t be alone.” Harper’s eyes had taken on a far-away look, as if he were hearing his mother’s words as they replayed in his mind. He looked more like the boy that Peter had mistaken him for. As Archie watched, the look left and the Harper he knew, returned. “Do you think it is possible that the story is true, Jameson?”
Once, Archie had heard that all stories had a basis in truth. Whether or not that was true, he didn’t know. The odds of a bedtime story having roots in their reality was a bit of a stretch for him, but then, so was a flying boy. “I do not know, Harper. I truly do not.”
“Well, I think he is Pan, or something like him,” Harper said. “After all, stranger things have happened. I need something to make sense.”
Archie nodded his agreement. To believe in a fairytale might seem folly, but they were captured in a world where anything seemed to be possible. Perhaps believing was the answer.
15
Unlikely Allies
ARCHIE HAD NOT expected to see one of Peter’s Lost Boys on his first trip to meet Tiger Lily. The boy did not look pleased to be there as he helped the Indians tote baskets of supplies to the shoreline.
“Good day, Beetles. I confess, your presence is a bit of surprise. I thought only to find Tiger Lily and a few of her people here this morning,” Archie said, giving the short, round boy a polite smile.
“Mmph,” the boy grumbled as he set down a basket full of strange-looking fruit, his bear cap falling forward to his eyes. He pushed it back with one hand, and turned to look at Archie. “She said if I was to see you, I was to tell you she’s on her way,” and with that, Beetles set off, heading back into the woods, presumably for another trip of supplies, though Archie thought he might be trying to escape further conversation.
“Nice of him to help,” Harper grinned, “Even if he didn’t seem too happy about it.”
“Yes, nice indeed,” Archie replied, watching as Tiger Lily appeared from beneath the canopy of trees.
“Did you see a boy come through here?” she asked without preamble. “About this tall?” She held out her palm at chest height.
“Aye, and about this wide.” Harper held out his hands a good distance from his own waist, indicating Beetles’s chubby frame.
“Well, where did he go? He was supposed to come back and help us carry the rest of your supplies to the boats.”
“He went that way.” Harper pointed to a group of trees in the opposite direction.
“That figures,” she muttered.
She looks pretty when she’s angry, Archie thought, watching a warm flush creep into Tiger Lily’s high cheekbones. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a tight plait that ran down her back. Archie’s fingers itched to loosen it and feel her silky tresses between his fingertips. Being as she looked ready to throttle anyone who came near, he held his place and decided to be content to take her beauty in from a safe distance, though he promised himself that as soon as the murderous look left her face, she would be his. Vaguely, he registered that Harper was yammering on about something or other, but his eyes stayed on Tiger Lily. He felt Harper brush past him and heard the lad’s footsteps going in the direction he had last seen Beetles.
“What are you thinking?” The angry look had left Tiger Lily’s face, replaced with one that seemed to be a cross between confusion and amusement.
“That you are beautiful.” They weren’t the most poetic words he had ever spoken. Had he given it more thought, he would have taken care to sound more eloquent. But in that second, the truth came free, and he didn’t care how it sounded. Silence met his words, so he chose that moment to walk over and press his lips to hers. His hand brushed the tail of her braid, and his fingers had their way with it, traveling up her back, unraveling the soft waves inch by inch until his hand reached the base of her neck. Soon, every bit of the braid was free.
He slid his hand under her hair, feeling the trapped warmth between it and her skin as he cupped her neck and pulled her nearer, deepening the kiss. His other arm came around her waist to hold her close as she lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck.
A feeling of warmth, unlike anything he had ever felt, rolled out in a wave. It was as if the sun had decided to move into his soul and was warming him from the inside out. There was no one else on this island but him and the woman in his arms.
Just the two of them—and one pesky voice clearing itself near his shoulder. He ignored it as the perpetrator continued, as if he were dredging up every bit of noise his throat held in an effort to become louder. The throat clearing stopped after a couple of seconds, followed by a sigh.
“I beg your pardon, but might you know where Beetles has gone?” The young voice was asking politely enough, but Archie still wanted to choke the owner, regardless of the manners his mother had ingrained in him since childhood.
“I do not.” Archie gritted his teeth as he turned, expecting to see Patch or Peter hovering beside him. Instead, his eyes dropped to find a smaller boy, this one covered in grey-furred clothes, with what looked like a raccoon hat perched upon his small blonde head. “Who, may I ask, are you?”
“Runt.” The boy looked up at him with clear, blue eyes. He was much younger than either of the boys Archie had seen earlier.
He can’t be more than six or seven years old, Archie thought, looking down into small, trusting face. “Your name is Runt?” The name didn’t seem one that a parent would bestow upon a child. But then, Beetles and Patch didn’t quite seem like given names, either.
“Yes,” the boy answered, nonplussed, before he repeated his question. “Do you know where Beetles is?”
“He is coming.” Harper materialized out of the underbrush.
“Peter would have been upset if he didn’t do what he was told,” Runt said in a matter-of-fact voice. “He told him he’d have to help the grown-ups since he went after Tic-Tock.”
So nice of Peter to be using us as punishment. The smile that etched Archie’s face was a wry one. “Might I ask why he chose us?”
The little boy shrugged. “’Cause you’re big, I guess.”
“As good a reason as any, I suppose,” Archie noted, but Runt’s attention had left him and gone to Tiger Lily.
“My mama had pretty, long hair like hers,” the boy said as if to no one in particular. “I really miss my mama.”
“I told you to stay and help them.” Peter was berating Beetles as they both appeared from the underbrush. It was the first time that Archie had seen the flying boy walk.
“I did. I thought they were finished,” Beetles grumbled.
Peter looked down at the boy and scowled before glancing back up to Archie.
“You are the one I wanted to see,” he announced, hopping off the ground to hover beside Archie.
Archie had the impression that Peter had done so in order to look him squarely in the eye. He doesn’t like to look up to anyone, Archie thought, watching as the boy lifted an extra inch into the air to look down at him.
“Why, might I ask, am I the one you were searching for?” he asked.
“I want to join forces with you. You and your grown-up
s, and the Lost Boys, and me. Tic-Tock has never been afraid of anything until your man stopped him. If he keeps eating my men, there will be no Lost Boys on Neverland. Then, he’ll start eating yours. I think he could eat your ship if he wanted to.”
Even though Archie doubted the croc had the ability to sink the Roger, the thought wasn’t a pleasant one. “What precisely do you propose?”
“That your men and mine hunt Tic-Tock together with your pistol things that Beetles and Patch told me about.”
“Ah.” Archie nodded. He’d wondered how long it would take for the boys to tell their leader all they had learned. The thought of them being around the pistols made him queasy. With the imagination that the children had shown and their lack of knowledge of nearly everything—coupled with his crew’s complete lack of caution—such an escapade could spell complete disaster. “Before I commit to such a hunt, I wish to know more about this crocodile,” he told Peter, giving the boy the full look of seriousness that lay in his blue eyes. “I will not put my men—or yours—in harm’s way before I know all there is to know about our quarry.”
“What’s a quarry?” He heard Beetles hiss to Runt, who gave him a helpless shrug in reply.
“He means Tic-Tock,” Peter told them, flying up to sit on a tree branch a few inches higher up. He settled down, pushing an errant limb out of his way, “Tic-Tock has been in Neverland for forever. Every time we see him, he seems to get bigger. He eats everything and everyone. He’s ate lots of the Lost Boys and the mermaids are afraid of him. I think he eats them, too, though they’ve never said anything to me about him. I just know that they are always gone whenever he shows up.”
“Is there a certain place he likes best?” Harper asked, then turned to give Archie a serious look of his own. “I’m asking because I’d rather watch for the croc, than the mermaids.”
Peter had listened to the question, and now looked pensive, his small brows furrowed as he mulled over the information that he knew. After a few seconds, he answered. “There is a cove on the other side of Neverland that leads to the caves. I’ve never seen a mermaid there, though the water would be right for them and there are plenty of flat rocks around those caves where they could bathe in the sun. I’ve wondered sometimes why I haven’t ever seen them there, but I just figured that maybe they liked this side of Neverland better.” He shrugged. “Maybe Tic-Tock likes to be around the caves.”
The Untold Stories of Neverland: The Complete Box Set Page 19