Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Foolish Tootles was standing like a conqueror over Wendy’s body when the other boys sprang, armed, from their trees.
“That’s way too many.” I stare at the pile of neverberries Coy sits on the bed beside me. Rubbing my forehead, I have the same dull ache from yesterday morning, as if a kid is bouncing a tennis ball against the inside of my skull over and over again.
“You all right?”
“I think adjusting to this whole new world is taking a toll on me.” I sigh. “Or maybe I’m just dehydrated.”
“Eat what you can. Here, drink this.” He hands me a cup, and I down it greedily, the water somehow sweet.
“Thanks.”
“How’s your chest?” He glances down, then looks away quickly. “I imagine you’re sore.”
My tunic is gaping at the top, but I have the blanket wrapped under my arms, holding it tight as I pluck one of the berries and chew on it.
It’s delicious, sweet and cool, and I down a few more.
“It’s a little achy, I’d say. Remind me to never drown again.
So, what’s on the agenda today? Anything going to try to kill me? ”
“Other than Tink? No.” He grins and meets my eyes again. “Not that I know of.”
I cock my head to the side, which only makes the kid with the tennis ball start bouncing it against my temple. “Did you do something to your hair?”
“Did I?” He reaches up and fluffs the red strands. “I mean, it got washed in the ocean pretty well yesterday. Maybe that’s it?”
“Maybe.” I lean back and let the food settle. “Just seems, I don’t know, fuller. Anyway, what did Slightly make for breakfast this morning?”
“Porridge. My least favorite meal of his, but it’s the only goods we had in the larder. We’re going out to do some trading on the other side of the island once the moon is up a bit higher.”
I snap my gaze to him. “There are other people on the island?”
“Yeah.” He lies back and looks up at the stone ceiling.
“Just some pirates who decided they didn’t want to sail any longer—the ones who avoided Hook’s sword on their way over the side of the Jolly Roger.
Some are people from shipwrecks. Others are Hook’s victims that washed up onshore.
They made a little town for themselves. Peter’s been talking about wiping them out for ages, but we never do it. ”
That sounds pretty awful. “Why would you want to wipe them out?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. For fun I guess?”
My stomach churns. “How is that fun?”
“It’s just the way of the island, of the Lost Boys. We fight, we look for adventure. Sometimes we fight on the same side as say the Neverians or the townspeople or the wolf pack, but sometimes we fight against them. Just depends on how Peter’s feeling that day.”
“Don’t you find that odd?”
“No.” He smiles. “I think … I think when I first came here, that’s all I wanted to do—fight.
To make my mark on this island one way or another.
What better way than to kill pirates or fight off the Neverians?
It’s hard for me to remember everything that happened.
It’s hard for all of us, really. Something about our memories here are off.
I don’t remember how I got here, or when.
But I remember when Foy and I first met Peter.
Not a memory so much as a feeling. A feeling of making a choice to fight forever, to adventure forever, to be young forever. ”
“Doesn’t seem to be working out.” I toe his ribs from beneath the blanket. “Just look at you.”
He holds up his hands and stares at them like they’re someone else’s. “When we get rid of Hook, it’ll go back to the way it was.”
“You want to be a boy again?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. “To never have to worry about anything except what Slightly’s making for supper or which battle we want to fight next.”
I can see the appeal of it, even if I can’t see choosing it for myself. “Don’t you miss your family?”
“I have Foy. Anyone else—I don’t remember them. Or maybe I do, but only in pieces that don’t fit together. Snippets of this and that. Like a square of cloth and a set of dice—nothing that turns into a real memory.” He shrugs.
Even though Coy doesn’t seem upset by losing his family, I can’t help but feel sad for him.
What if his mother loved him but he decided to fly off with Peter and never return to her?
I’ve never given much thought to having children, but I know in my gut that losing one must be the greatest pain a person can suffer.
“Why so glum? The neverberries bitter?” He reaches out and grabs one, popping it into his mouth. “Nope, taste good to me.”
“All right. Get out so I can get dressed. I’m leaving this cave today, and I’m not going anywhere near the water. Pick out somewhere we can explore without getting murdered, all right?”
“No can do. Like I said, I’m going with Nibs and Slightly to the town. Tootles will stay in the cave to guard you.” He glances out the door. “Though I’m not sure why he isn’t here yet.”
“Stay with Tootles? No. I’m coming with you.” I have to admit I’m damn curious about what sort of town could be on Neverland.
“No way. Peter would have a fit.”
“Where’s Peter now?”
“He’s out scouting for the Jolly Roger. If it weighs anchor on this side of the island, Peter’s going to get a better layout of it so we can get to Hook.” He taps the side of his head. “I feel like we should know that ship by heart, but like I said, memory doesn’t hold up here in Neverland.”
“Sounds like he’ll be gone for a while.” I nibble my bottom lip. “Is it dangerous?”
“Nah. Not for Peter.”
“Great. No worries then. Let’s hit the road.” I kick him off the bed.
He lands with a thump, then jumps to his feet. “Well, that was a nasty trick, Moira.” He tries to sound disappointed, but he fails when he smiles right through it.
“Out! I’m getting dressed, and we’re going to town!”
“No can do, Moira.” He adopts a more serious tone. “We’ve got orders from Peter that you aren’t to leave the cave unless he’s with you.”
“Oh, so I’m a prisoner?” I cross my arms over my chest, almost letting the blanket fall in the process.
A pink blush creeps into Coy’s cheeks as he stands his ground. “Not a prisoner by any means. We have a special cave for those.”
“Really?”
“Certainly.”
“I can’t tell if you’re kidding, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m leaving the cave, and you can either take me with you to the town, or I can go exploring on my own.
Up to you.” I’m bluffing. There’s no way I’m going out into the forest alone.
There are too many predators and creepy eyes and eerie sounds, but Coy doesn’t need to know that.
He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble if we do this. If Peter finds out, it’s—” He drags his thumb across his throat. “—for me. Is that what you want?”
I raise a brow at him. I’ve seen the way Peter is with the Lost Boys he keeps closest to him. They’re a family. There’s no way Peter would ever hurt them. “Look, Coy, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but the whole ‘Peter might kill you’ thing is a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Cold, Darling. So cold.” He pauses, his eyes sparkling. “You know, you would’ve made a decent pirate.”
“So you’ll take me with you?”
“Can’t do it. I’m sorry. I really am.” He backs out the door, as if he’s afraid I might throw something at him—and he might be right.
“Coy!” I can’t exactly go after him. I need pants, not to mention tighter lacing on the tunic. “Don’t leave me with Tootles!”
For some reason, I feel the slightest pang of hurt. I’m more comfortable with Coy than the others, though none of the men have struck me as threatening. They all seem curious about me, but they follow Peter’s orders to the letter. I thought Coy might be warming up to me, but I suppose I was wrong.
“You’ll be safe. I’ll bring you back something nice from town.” His voice is farther away.
Disappointment overcomes the hurt inside me. I thought I had him convinced. Maybe I need to work on my persuasion skills.
With resentment in every move, I get dressed then head down the tunnel to the kitchen.
Tootles is sitting at the table drinking his invisible tea with his pinky out, his blond curls bouncing a little as he moves.
“Good morning, Moira.” He puts his cup down and rises.
Even though he’s a total cinnamon roll, he’s still taller than me and muscled like the others.
Though, given the amount of running around, swimming, and apparently fighting they do all the time—it’s no surprise.
I size Tootles up, then pour myself a cup of water from the pitcher on the counter.
Each of the Lost Boys follows Peter without question, but they also are quite different from one another.
For example, I’ve noticed Nibs is pragmatic to the point of almost being surly, Slightly is creative and loves to make things, and Tootles …
Well, Tootles seems to possibly be the youngest of them.
He doesn’t have any gray hairs or laugh lines, which makes me think he must’ve been quite small when he came to Neverland.
The youngest, and I’ve noticed, the most open to persuasion.
“So, when do we leave?” I try to sound as innocent as possible.
“Leave?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Yeah, Peter said we were supposed to go with Coy to the town.”
“He did?” He scratches his head.
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“No. He told me to stay here with you.”
“That’s odd.” I tap my fingers on the counter. “Well, when did he tell you to stay here with me?”
He looks up, thinking back. It takes a semi-ridiculous amount of time for him to answer. “Last night after your story.”
“Oh, well, he told me this morning that we should go with Coy. I think it’s pretty clear he must’ve changed his mind while he slept and come up with a new plan. You know how Peter is.” I give him what I hope is a charming smile.
He ponders for a while. “Well, it does sound like Peter. He changes his mind so much all the time. One day we’re fighting alongside the Neverians, the next we’re at war with them. We get all sorts of mixed messages.”