Peter by day, Pan by night

Chapter 12

        I fall onto cobblestone, my curls covering my face.

        “Kelvin?!” I struggle to my feet, but he is already gone.

        Rain splatters onto my cheek. The wind brushes against my bare arms and legs. I shiver and bow my head against the storm. I walk down one street and turn to the right.

        I have nowhere to go, no place that is dry or safe. No one to help me.

        I am alone.

        I fold my arms tightly over my stomach and that is when I remember. I unclench my fingers and hold up my hand. The yellow light of the lamppost filters down through the rain and falls across Daine’s last present.

          A star.

         “Second star to the right…” I slip the wooden star into my pocket. “And straight on till morning.”

        Neverland is gone forever. But I will hold onto the memory of my two days there. I won’t forget the boy with red hair who made me laugh, the boy who gave me small wooden gifts, the small boy who I met on the streets or even the blond boy with a scar who has his own story and secrets that I will never know.

        But most of all…I won’t forget the tall boy with green eyes who taught me how to fly and who will never grow up.

        I lean against a dirty wall and slide to the floor. The rain pokes at me with wet, icy fingers. But I wrap my arms around my knees and ignore it.

        My mind is full of magic as I fall asleep.

**

        I dream of Peter Pan.

        We stand in Neverland’s forest. His music dances around us, but his face is lost in shadows. A fire flickers in the distance. But I see no lost boys.

        Peter holds out his hand. I do not hesitate. But then his fingers tighten and he starts to run. I trip after him, my blue dress catching on sharp branches. I ask him to stop, but he doesn’t hear.

        He drops his pipe. Somehow the music continues to weave around us, as if it belongs to the forest, not him.

        A dark, large animal lands in front of us. The angry bear roars and Peter lets go of my hand. I fall backwards, the forest disappearing.

        “Peter!” I scream. The song grows louder until it blocks out any other sound

        I land on a something rough and wet. My eyes crack open and I look around the dark street. Was that a dream or a nightmare?

        My hands shake, but I am not sure if it from the cold or from the strange music that is still trapped in my head. In fact, it almost seems like I can hear the pipe’s song, although now it is softer than before.

        I sit up. The music is playing, and not just in my head. I stand. A shadow darts across the balcony of one of the houses in front of me. I take a step back, my eyes straining to catch movement.

        I know it cannot be, but the familiar song continues to swirl down the empty street. The rain has stopped, leaving everything, including me, soaked. Gray clouds part to show a blurry moon. Only a few stars prick the darkness.     

        A wooden star rubs against an acorn, and I think of those I left behind.

        The wind picks up and pushes my hair across my face. I tuck it back behind my ears and hear something rustle in the shadows. My body stills and I bend my knees.

        This street isn’t really empty.

        I remember the shadow I saw only a few moments ago. The strange sound grows louder and the pipe music fades away. Was it in my head all along? It seemed so real.

        My heart thumps inside me, my breaths short and quick. I need to run. If someone is behind me, they probably aren’t here to offer a blanket.

        There are worst things then death.

        Fear pounds inside me as I lurch forward. My feet slip across the cobblestones as I jerk around the corner. I weave my way down several streets until I find an empty corner. I press my back against the cold wall and gasp for air.

        I hear no sounds of pursuit. Maybe it was just a cat.

        I rub my eyes and wish I could stand by the lost boys’ fire and dry off. Heat is a luxury I cannot afford.

        A single note drifts toward me.

        I freeze and listen as it echoes through the darkness.

        I wasn’t imagining the music. It is real. But that can only mean that…

        Neverland.

        The word strums inside me, a hope too fragile to grasp. Peter Pan sent me away, he wouldn’t let a lost boy come back for me. Especially since I’ve only been gone a few hours.

        And Peter said he’d never leave Neverland, so how is it I can hear his music?

        Someone laughs quietly. I jerk back, but don’t run.

        “Who is there?” I steady my voice and step away from the wall. I should be hiding, not confronting the faceless voice. But I have flown through the sky and laid in a fairy circle. I have seen magic and am not in the mood to run again. Besides, my feet are sore and tired.

        “Hello.” The familiar voice comes from the shadows.

        I gasp and try to move, but my feet won’t budge. “Peter Pan?”

        He strides into view, the moonlight shinning in his green eyes. “Wendy Darling, we meet again.”