I gaped at the sight before me.  Not only were the colour different from those I was used to, but the fact that the grasslands existed as far as I could see in all directions was very disturbing to me.  All it was, was purple grass as far as I could see.  No hills, trees, rocks, or anything else to break up the seemingly perfect carpet of grass.  It made me want to throw myself to the ground, bury my head in my hood and never open my eyes again.

 

The figure in front of me chuckled.  “You musssst forgive me my vanittty,” it said.  “Thisss is not really my mind, but a placcce where the mind is used exclussssively.  I seeee you are uncomfortable, perhapssss, thisss will help you.”

 

As he said that, a pine forest sprang up around us until we were in a perfect circle of about 100 feet in diameter.  This was almost more bizarre than the grasslands it replaced, as each tree was perfectly formed and shaped.  They all looked just like each other right down to the needles on each branch.  I wasn’t at all sure this was any more comfortable than the place it was covering up.

 

“Thissss is how we do battle.  It’sss not brawn but intelligence and you appear to be in ssshort sssupply of both,” he chuckled nastily.  “I am sssure the rules will come to you in time.  You may even be able to figure it out after awhile, but by that time you’ll be mine and will sssimply be a futile gesssture, although I am sssure it will be marvelousssly entertaining to watccch you flail around.”

 

I looked at him.  “But… I don’t know how to do anything like that.  What…”

 

“Well that’sss cccertainly too bad.  Of courssse life isss not ssupposssed to be fair.  However I am not without sssome sssporting blood in me.  Think about letting yourssself go.”  He clapped his hands together and vanished.  The trees followed in a moment, leaving me by myself on the vast endless purple plain.  I looked around and could almost imagine it being an American prairie that I’d read about somewhere.  The only thing missing was the sun and clouds.  Both appeared as soon as I thought that, which was a really weird coincidence.

 

I wasn’t sure whether to stay where I was or start walking.  If I was going to walk, I didn’t even know which direction I should travel in.  I spun around twice with my eyes closed and started walking in the direction I had stopped spinning in.  “What happens now?” I yelled out after awhile.

 

The answer came when the sun and clouds were blotted out by a huge dark cloud from which some sort of precipitation trailed to the ground.  It sailed majestically above my head and the next moment I was freezing and getting snowed upon.  It seemed like no time at all before it was up to my knees.  I could see my breath as I breathed and couldn’t even feel my feet or hands anymore.  I fell and thought what a wonderful feeling lying down in the middle of this field on this nice fluffy bed of snow was.  Part of me wondered how I could lose the feeling in my hands and feet when my real body was somewhere else and this whole thing was just a mind game of some sort.  It didn’t really seem real important anyway, just something to wonder about before I fell asleep.

 

I wasn’t dreaming, but I wasn’t awake either or whatever you’d call it wherever this was.  I was standing in a cavernous hallway facing a hooded and cloaked figure.  I was still freezing so I figured I was probably still lying in the field while I was still lying in a graveyard in Neverland.  My head started hurting when I wondered how fair it was that I was hallucinating while having a hallucination or whatever it was that this ‘battle’ was done in.  I was drawn back to… wherever when the cloaked figure spoke again.

 

“Cubby, you aren’t paying attention.  You must listen more carefully if you are to survive this.”

 

“I’m sorry.  Who are you?”

 

“That’s not important as I don’t have the time to explain it at the moment.  I want you to take this,” it said as it pulled a hand out of a pocket and handed me a small glowing sphere.  I felt decidedly grubby when I saw the well manicured hand next to my grubby paw.  I took the sphere and looked at it.  It was about the size of a night light bulb and appeared to be made of some sort of crystal or glass.

 

“What is it?” I asked.

 

“It’s a wish.  Wishes and dreams have special power.  Didn’t you know that?” it asked in an amused voice.  “When you return to yon, keep it next to your heart.  It will help you against the dragon and when you return to the Neverland realm and to the ‘real’ world beyond, it will help remind you of those wishes and dreams you desire.”

 

“Uh, if you say so.”

 

“Oh, indeed I do.  You will find that wishes become the most important thing at times.  Don’t ever give them up lightly, and use them to help others as you can.  Now you must go and fight, as you have the heart to do so.”  Then in a voice quite unlike what it had been using said, “Don’t worry too much about stuff.  It’ll work out okay you…”  It called me something, but it was drowned out by the howling of the wind as I returned to my original hallucination of being in the middle of a blizzard. 

 

I wished the bearskin was heavier and fell to my knees as it suddenly weighed what felt like a ton.  I then wished it were lighter but warmer and both came true.  Slowly, though, the warmth seeped out as the storm increased its fury.  I wished that the storm would stop and it seemed to diminish a little, but slowly gathered strength again.  I wished for a warmer bearskin again, but that didn’t have any effect this time.  I looked at the glass sphere again and a sudden thought went leaping through my skull.

 

“I wish that the snow would stop so it won’t kill the grass of the prairie,” I said out loud for some weird reason.  The snow came to an instant stop as the cloud above started to break up.  I then wished for the snow on the ground to melt to water the grass.  The temperature rose to a much more comfortable level and the snow started to obligingly melt into water to soak the grass.

 

There was a grumbling sound that echoed all around and then a swarm of enormous bees came flying towards me.  There intentions didn’t seem real good and I felt my skin start to crawl as they got closer to me.  I looked at the sphere again and then suddenly wished that the purple field also contained purple flowers.  They popped up by the thousands and the bees appeared to forget me entirely and started doing, uh , whatever bees do to flowers.

 

There was a roar and the dragon/humanoid popped up in front of me.  “Don’t think that you have won this.  My mind is stronger than yours and I’ll see you in little pieces before this is finished.”

 

  I looked at him and from somewhere came the ludicrous thought as to wonder why he was so upset.  I debated on what would happen if… “I wish you were happy.”

 

There was a chiming sound and the figure in front of me vanished with a gnashing of teeth.  The purple field and the bees slowly faded away and I found myself back on the ground in the graveyard with a massive headache and Roo kneeling next to me.

 

“What happened?” I intelligently asked.

 

“We were sort of hoping you could tell us.  When you collapsed the dragon vanished, although he left the pixie.  Then you started yelling and screaming and… laughing.  You having fun while the rest of us were working?”

 

“Not really,’ I said slowly.  “I met someone dressed in a black hood and cloak and they gave me something to help fight the dragon, but…”  I looked around, but didn’t see the glass sphere.  I wondered where it had vanished to until I felt a warm, glowing feeling above where I supposed my heart was.  “The whole thing was sort of bizarre and weird,” I lamely finished.

 

“Figures.  Whenever a dragon gets involved, no one knows what the heck is going to happen.  The ice was a nice touch though.”  He sighed and helped me to my feet.  The rest of the Lost Boys, looking the worst for wear, were in a ragged circle around us.  Leo looked a lot better than when I had left and the pixie, whom the dragon had left, was busy sprinkling him with pixie dust.  “See, told ya we’d be back in time for breakfast.”

 

The thought of breakfast made me a bit nauseous.  We trudged back along the trail we had come in on and left the North Wood.  By the time we reached the top of the first hill, it was getting light out and I spied something wonderful that I had missed earlier.  I nudged Tigger who took it in with a glance and then looked at the steeply sloped hill beside us and grinned.  “You know we gotta.  That’s why it’s there.”

 

Surefoot looked at both of us as though we were crazy.  “Are you nuts?  There’s no way.”

 

“What’s wrong?  Chicken?”

 

“Yeah, right Tig.  I just played with trolls and dragons and I’m chicken.  No thanks, besides there’s not enough room with Cubs in there anyway.”

 

I thought about being insulted, but just giggled instead.  Roo claimed he wasn’t going to patch anyone up who got damaged by this idiocy and that we’d better not drown in the river at the bottom.  Carefully Tigger and I (and, I noted Surefoot as well) moved the huge hollow log into position.  It was a tight fit, but Tigger and I fit and at the last second, with Tigger smirking at him, Surefoot managed to squeeze in too.  Although Roo had been grumbling the entire time about it, both he and Leo managed to start us off down the hill.

 

It was awesome.  I know at a couple of points we were airborne, or close enough that it didn’t make any difference.  I ended up with a bloody nose from Tigger’s knee, but that was the only injury that occurred.  Surefoot yelled in pure delight the entire way down and I did some screaming myself, although whether it was in delight or fear is debatable.  We came to rest with a sharp crack against a large rock that prevented us from going swimming.  That was sort of disappointing, but all in all it was a good ride.  We all managed to squirm out of the log, stood, and collapsed to the ground as dizziness overcame us.  I heard Surefoot say he was going to barf, but never followed through with the threat.

 

After awhile we regained enough balance to wander back towards the trail after vowing to return in a day or two and do the whole thing over.  I found myself walking next to Roo.  “See, no matter how bad it seems to get, there’s always something fun to do afterwards.”

 

“I guess,” I said.  “As long as you survive the bad part.  What about those who don’t?”

 

“Well.  How do you know they’re not having the most fun of all?”

 

I pondered that the rest of the way back and decided he was probably right.

 

“Uh, I never knew that there were such things as dragons that spewed ice or even that small,” I said.  Actually I hadn’t really known that such a thing as dragons actually existed, and perhaps they didn’t in the ‘real’ world, but they seemed very much alive and kicking in this realm.

 

“I’ve heard of ‘em, but never seen one before,” Surefoot mumbled.

 

“We can take them,” Tigger said with a confidence I could only marvel at.  I was having enough trouble with the trolls that were supposed to be relatively ‘harmless’.  Leo must have felt the same way because he gave Tigger a look that clearly thought he was nuts.

 

Further discussion or interpretation of looks was halted when the dragon took a step forward and chuckled (or at least that’s what it sounded like).  It was a beautiful dark blue and green colour and it’s eyes were entrancing.  It was remarkable how incredibly deep they appeared to be when you stared at them.  It was sort of like…  “Hey!  What’d ya do that for,” I asked Roo, rubbing the spot on my arm where he’d pinched me.

 

“Don’t look at it’s eyes, it’ll hypnotize you and you’ll end up not being able to do anything it doesn’t want you to.”

 

I gulped and made the effort not to look at its eyes since the moment I heard, that’s where my eyes kept straying back to.  The dragon glanced at all of us and then spoke.  “One of you is weeeeak.  Very weak and untested.  It will beeee you that brings the others downnnnn.  For this I thankkkk you.  Perhaps I will let you liiive because of it, perhaps not.”

 

It had to be talking about me.  I was the newest Lost Boy and was definitely untested as far as anything in this realm went.  My emotions went spiraling.  One moment I knew I could beat this to prove its words wrong.  The next moment I wanted to run as fast as I could to escape what I knew was going to happen.  My heart felt like it was getting ready to explode, it was racing so hard.  I was terrified of the though of failing the other Lost Boys as well as the thought of facing the dragon who could so easily rip me apart and not think twice about it.  I felt a hand on my shoulder.

 

“It’s okay, Cubby,” Leo said.  “It’s just playing games with you.  All dragons have the ability to terrify you, to make you insanely happy, to make you not care about anything.  But if you know about it then the magic can’t work against you as well.  We all stick together which is why nothing can bring us down.”

 

I don’t know if it was Leo’s words or the fact that the knowledge broke the spell.  Regardless, I was no longer terrified, just simply scared to death.  I was used to that, though, so it wasn’t that big a deal.  The dragon let loose a snarl and a curse and the two trolls lumbered towards us.  Leo stepped forward and released what seemed like half a dozen arrows before I could blink.  All of them found their mark, although only a couple appeared not to shatter against the trolls’ hides.  There was a high pitched keening noise as the smaller troll took an arrow in the mouth.  He dropped the boomerang looking thing and started trying to get the arrow out of his mouth.  Surefoot was also firing, but at a slower pace.

 

The larger troll was unaffected by the arrows and reached us faster than I’d have thought possible.  Tigger managed to stun him for an instant with his sling, but the troll quickly recovered and then suddenly it was among us.  Everything is sort of confused for a couple of minutes after that.  I know that Leo, Tigger and Surefoot attacked it with cutlass and sword while trying to stay out of reach of it’s hands.  Roo hung back, as I’d been told earlier he would, since he was probably the only one who could even begin to put any of us back together.  I was rooted to the spot, standing there holding this stupid club and not knowing what to do.  No one was paying me any attention that I could see and for a moment I considered taking to my heels and running as far away as I could.

 

There was a crack of something and Leo was airborne and then landed in a heap at my feet.  He looked up at me with gray face and intense pain with a confused expression.  In a small voice, a kid’s voice, so at odds with the only way I’d ever heard him speak, he said, “God, I don’t want to die.  Please make it stop.”  He sobbed once, closed his eyes, and was still.  I stared down at the face that had suddenly become that of a child’s for a second longer and then I lost it.

 

I suppose I’d like to say I went in there in a berserker rage and finished off the troll by swinging my club in a rage.  Such was not the case though.  I was so scared that I was trembling, but ignored it as best I could as I approached the troll and started swinging the club as hard as I could.  Some blows landed, a lot more didn’t and in addition to being scared of the troll, I was scared that I was going to brain one of the other boys with the club.  I discovered that trolls have claws when one of them neatly ripped my arm open when I got too close.  The other boys continued to stab and duck while I flailed away.  I learned not to turn my back on a troll when I over swung the club and for my efforts got batted about ten yards away, landing on my knees in a bunch of rocks and brambles.  I turned and limped back in , wanting to cry.  I noticed that Roo was working on Leo and supposed that was a good sign.

 

Someone got a lucky shot in.  All I know is that it wasn’t me.  One moment the troll was raining blows among us, and the next it was clutching it’s throat while yelling horrifically and running off into the woods.  Surefoot stood panting and staring at the dragon who was now by himself,  the smaller troll no longer in sight.  I heard Tigger yell Leo’s name as he ran frantically back to where he lay.  I just stood there looking perplexed I guess, while I held the club in my aching hands and tried to figure out how I felt at the moment.  It certainly wasn’t any sense of victory or accomplishment.  I felt sore and battered beyond belief and my arm and knees hurt intensely.

 

“Cubby, come ‘ere, quick.”

 

I turned and stumbled to where Roo was working on Leo.  He’d torn or ripped the lion skin off the upper half of his body, revealing blood and torn flesh along his left side.  Tigger was standing above both of them crying and begging him not to go.

 

“Idiot,” Roo said.  I later learned that this was the way that Roo’s ‘bedside manner’ normally was and how it was sort of his defense mechanism for dealing with the stuff he saw, but it took me a bit aback to hear him say that.  “I told him he’d be okay, but he’s gotten so upset I can’t depend on him for anything.”  He looked at me.  “You’re too big to be dainty, so get your big rump down here.”

 

I dropped to my knees, thought about howling when they hit the ground, but decided that might be considered ‘dainty’ and swallowed the urge.  Roo appeared to exactly what had happened, cuz he gave me an approving look and a nod.  “Okay,” he said in a steady, almost bored voice.  “I want you to move that flap of skin… yeah, that one.  Move it over here to this.  No.  Stop!  There, that’s right.  Easy.  Okay, right there.  Push down gently.  Good, now with all your weight behind it.”  I looked down at my hand that appeared to now be wearing a red glove and then at Leo’s battered body. 

 

“Cubby, don’t you even think about thinking about barfing or I’ll kill you cuz it’ll kill him.” Roo said as he continued stitching.  “This ain’t as bad as it looks and he’ll be okay as long as you don’t do something stupid like that.”  He looked up.  “Tigger, you’re really bothering me with that whimpering and I know that it’s getting on Cubby’s nerves big time as well as pissing off Leo.  Why don’t you go and see if Surefoot needs help watching the big, bad dragon?”

 

To my surprise, Tigger sniffed twice, looked at Roo with a grin, and ran off.  I glanced over at Roo in shock.

 

“No worries.  He knows if I feed him a line like that, that everything is going to be okay.  He’d have freaked if I’d told him that Leo was going to be okay, cuz he’d figure I was hiding something from him.”  He cut the thread, or whatever it was, that he’d been using on Leo.  “Okay, now move his arm up.  No, not that far you moron, he’s not double jointed.  Yeah, yeah.  Perfect hold it right there and…  Great!  Okay, you can let it down gently now.”  He rocked back on his heels and sighed.  “Maybe a little shock, but he’ll be good as new in no time.  Not that new was all that great, but it’ll do.  Okay let’s see your arm.  Hmmmm… not bad, I should stitch it, but I don’t have a lot left and there’s still…  Oh, well.”  He pulled a bandage that looked suspiciously like part of the shirt I had been wearing when I had arrived three weeks ago and quickly bandaged up my arm.  “We’ll see how it looks when we get back.  You’d better go play the third to their Musketeers now,” he said nodding towards the others who were still facing the dragon that didn’t look as though it had moved at all.

 

I got up listening to several muscles, bones, and joints call me all sorts of rotten things and letting me know how much they appreciated this abuse.  “Hey, Cubby?  Not too bad a job you did for the first time.  I might have to give you a bit of training when we get back and see what happens.”

 

“You mean if we manage to get back?”

 

“What, this?  Piece o’ cake.  We’ll be back in time for breakfast at this pace.”

 

I managed to ruin the whole effect by casually turning my head and throwing up last night’s stew.  “Hmmm, well at least you waited until you were away from Leo.  That counts for something.”

 

I stumbled back up to where the other two were still watching the dragon who still hadn’t moved.

 

“Your throat sore?” Surefoot asked.

 

“Cuz I threw up?  Naw.”

 

“Uh-uh, because the entire time you were fighting with the troll you kept yelling ‘stop, stop’ over and over.  As a battle cry it leaves a bit to be desired, although it is short and to the point I guess.”

 

I thought about that for a moment.  For the life of me, I couldn’t remember anything like that.  I looked at Tigger with a questioning look on my face and he nodded.  Weird.  “Uh, guys, I know I’m just the newbie and stuff, but what are we doing?”

 

“That is an excellent question,” Surefoot said.  “I have no idea.  I figured it’d attack or try to leave or something, but it just sits there.  I don’t want to do anything cuz the pixie is right there and there’s also the fact that it could probably kick our rumps big time, no matter what stripes here seems to think about our ability.”

 

Tigger grinned.  “I said we could take ‘em, I didn’t say it’d be easy.  We already got rid of two of them.”

 

“What happened to the other troll?” I asked.

 

“Took off in the wood.  We got totally lucky with both of those.  Driving one away can happen, but getting two driven away is insane.  C’mon dragon, do something.”

 

The dragon continued to stand and stare at us without so much as blinking.  Of course I didn’t know if dragons blinked or not, but it was decidedly strange watching it.  I wondered what it was thinking.  Why did it just stand there?  What sort of creature was it that simply stood and watched when it could no doubt walk over and finish us all off?

 

“Well this is nutsy,” Tigger said as he lifted his bow and shot an arrow towards the dragon.  It lazily flew through the air and seemed to slowly approach the side of the dragon.  It almost hesitantly struck the dragon’s side, right above where its wing joined its body, bounced off and fell to the ground.  The dragon looked at us for a moment, then turned to face us and opened its mouth.

 

“Oh crikey, drop.” Surefoot yelled.  Both he and Tigger fell to their stomachs on the ground.  I was in ‘huh’ mode and looked up as a plume of frozen air came flying towards me.  I lifted the shield, still attached to my arm, and held it out in front of me as sort of a last resort type thing.  The plume hit the shield which became glazed with ice.  The arm holding it felt frozen and I was knocked back a foot or two from the blast.

 

The storm finally ended and I was glad to find I still appeared to be in one piece and not frozen.  Tigger looked at me.  “Be sure you don’t put your tongue on that ‘til it melts.”

 

“Uh, yeah, I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

“Are you nuts?!” Surefoot demanded.  Why didn’t you drop?”

 

“I… uh, it happened too fast and I guess I didn’t expect it.”

 

“Sooooo,’ the dragon rumbled.  “Youuuuu have chosen the one toooo champion for you allllll.  An unexpected choicccce but one which should be interesting.  Normally the untested wouldn’t not be usssssed.  Prepare for battle.”

 

“Uh, what’s it talking about?” I asked, almost pleading.

 

“This is so not good,” Tigger said.

 

“Don’t worry, we’ll all stand by you.  No way it’s getting any one of us alone.”  Surefoot said.

 

I suddenly felt very nauseous and then discovered I couldn’t move but was able to collapse onto the ground in a quite dramatic fashion.  I heard Tigger ask what was wrong with me and then called Roo.  I felt as though I were withdrawing from my body, like my mind was retreating further and further away from it.  I couldn’t see, hear or feel anything for a moment and then I appeared on a large plain with purple grass.  In front of me was someone who looked humanoid in appearance but slightly off somehow, although it was more a feeling than the ability to state what it was.  It had nothing to do with the fact that his skin was in tones of blue and green.  He was about my height and I guess somewhere around my age, although he could have been a little younger or much older.  He gave me a malicious grin.

 

“Welcommme to my mind.  Are you prepared for battttle?”

“C’mon Cubby, wake up.”  The voice was insistent and try as I might, I couldn’t ignore it, get it to go away, or reconcile it to the dream I was having.  My eyes popped open to Surefoot, Tigger, Roo, and Leo standing around my pallet.  Each of them were armed with sword or bow.

 

“Uh, what’s going on?”  As usual I asked the cutting edge questions.

 

“We’ve been called out,” Leo said.  “C’mon and I’ll tell you as we go.  I don’t think it’s going to be too bad this time.”

 

I supposed I was glad to hear that and got up with a huge yawn.  It was freezing, so I was pretty sure it was still the dead of night.  I pulled the hood of the bearskin over my head and yawned.  This was my third week as a Lost Boy and I hadn’t gone through anything like this before, nor been warned about it.  Surefoot came over and gave me my choice of bow or sword.

 

“Better let him take his club instead,” Tigger said.  “We haven’t had enough time to do much, and he’d be better off trying to strangle someone with the bow rather than use it to shoot an arrow.”

 

“How ‘bout a shield?”

 

Tigger thought about it a moment.  “Sure, why not, can’t hurt.”

 

Within five minutes we were following the trail that led from the tree to the North Wood.  For once there wasn’t a full moon and there was mist all over the place.  Not quite fog, but thick enough to cause stuff to take an otherworldly appearance and make you think trees were creatures ready to pounce.  I was beginning to pant a bit at the pace we were moving, but was pleasantly surprised that I could keep up with the rest of the group.  I was in the middle with Leo and Roo, behind Surefoot and trailed by Tigger.

 

“You know about pixie dust, right?”  Leo started.  I nodded trying to conserve my breath for moving.  I stumbled over a root, but managed to keep my balance and continued onward.  “Well Tink isn’t the only pixie, there are a couple of colonies of them on the island.  Everyone knows that pixie dust is powerful when it comes to magic and they’re always trying to steal it.  Sometimes something will try to steal the pixie too.  Tink hangs around us because somewhere along the line it was agreed us Lost Boys would protect any pixie that got taken.  Every now and again when it happens, like tonight, Tink lets us know and we go hunting.”

 

“That makes sense I guess,” I managed to gasp out as the trail started to climb uphill.  I started as something grabbed me from the side, but then saw it was a tree branch.  “So where we goin’?”

 

“Some old graveyard in the North Wood.  Apparently the trolls who snatched the pixie believe in the old superstition that we won’t enter a graveyard cuz we’re scared.  I’m more worried about the trees than some old bodies.”

 

“Peter told me that nothing good happened in the North… Ooof.”  I had the breath knocked out of me as I stumbled over a stone and fell flat on my face.  Without seeming to break stride, Leo and Roo reached down, grabbed my arms and pulled me up.

 

“Told ya,” Roo said.  “You owe me a chore.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Anyway, the North Wood is a weird place.  Apparently there was a lot of, I guess you could say stray magic, let loose in the place a few centuries ago.  As normal, the tale doesn’t say why or who or how, just that it happened.  Supposedly it caused a bunch of things like trees and animals to change and weird stuff happens and all that other stuff.  I’ve been in there a few times and it does give me the creeps, but I’ve never seen anything in there.  Course the trees are so thick it’s hard to see anything off the trail.”

 

“And she got grabbed by trolls?”

 

I was shushed by three different people as I caused a rifle crack sound when I stepped on a branch on the trail.  “Yeah, trolls are usually too dumb to remember that it didn’t work the last time they tried it.  It’s a pain though.  Only pirates have taken more of us than trolls.”

 

That certainly sounded encouraging.  “And there are only five of us?

 

“Oh yeah, it’s no sweat.  Trolls don’t do well with each other and they ain’t real smart.  They are hard as heck to injure though and they hate to stop fighting.  They’re also strong and have a tendency to throw things.  Watch out for that hole!”

 

I stutter stepped over the hole and managed to keep from ending up heels over head.

 

“Nice move.  Anyway, just keep swinging at it and try to stay away from it’s feet.  As soon as it lets the pixie go or it escapes than we are out of there.  It’s almost impossible to kill a troll, so we don’t even try.  ‘specially since it’s not impossible to kill us.”

 

I pondered this as we continued to move closer to the North Wood.  It didn’t seem too bad, although the loss of previous Lost Boys didn’t seem to be a good omen at all.  “So is that why Peter brings Lost Boys to the island?  To protect pixies?”

 

Leo shrugged.  “Dunno.  Guess it could be one reason.  I don’t think anyone knows why he brought us here.  Guess I can’t say I really care most of the time, although sometimes I do get curious about it.  But I know if he hadn’t, my brother wouldn’t be alive right now.”  He glanced at Tigger.  “That’s reason enough for me to do just about anything he asks.”

 

I agreed with that.  The trail passed through a meadow and halfway through I began feeling nauseous, scared and it felt as though the hackles on both my neck and that of the bearskin itself rose.  In the distance I heard a wolf howl to be answered by another.  “Uh I think I’m going to be sick.”

 

“Oh that’s right, first time into the North Wood.  You can always tell when you pass through cuz you end up feeling this way.  Don’t worry ‘bout the howling either.  They’re on our side.”

 

The trees closed in around the trail again.  Trees that seemed distinctly different somehow.  I didn’t think they were going to start moving, or anything like that, but it was just a creepy feeling.  Sort of dread mixed with wrongness and a sprinkle of doom thrown in to make the whole thing a bit more interesting.  I gripped the club as hard as I could.  Leo walked closer to me and started to whisper.  “Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay.  The wood will try to scare you out, but you’ll get used to it.  You don’t have to be afraid.  And that club you’re carrying is massive good luck.  The story goes the original Cubby could work wonders with that thing.  You’ll be fine.”

 

I wasn’t sure I believed most of what Leo was saying, but I appreciated the fact that someone took the time to care about what I was feeling.  That was definitely a first.  I took  a deep breath and kept reminding myself that Lost Boys don’t give up on each other and I had to be there for the rest of them as they’d be there for me.  I believed it until we came to the graveyard.  Standing among the barrows was a troll holding a bag in which the pixie was apparently in.  He gave us a vacant grin while he stared at us and let loose a long string of drool that hung towards the dirt below.  Yet strangely enough that didn’t bother me at all.  Nor did the second troll that was standing next to him.  A bit shorter, not nearly as intelligent looking and swinging what looked like a boomerang in his left hand and picking his nose with the right.  I think we were all more concerned about the small dragon that stood between the two of them, looking extremely intelligent, on drooling and venting what looked like frost and ice from its nose.

 

“Leo,” I whispered as we came to a halt outside the boundary of the graveyard.

 

“Yeah, Cubs,” he whispered back.

 

“Can I be afraid now?”

 

I wasn’t sure that any of this made any sense whatsoever.  I had been approached by Surefoot and told it was my turn to wash down the common room.  This made sense, as the first week I was there, I saw Red washing it down.  Unfortunately I came in on the end of the exercise and didn’t see how it began.

 

“You know it’s your turn to wash down the common room this week, Cubs.  You being the new boy and all.”

 

“We actually wash something?”

 

“Well, yeah.  I’ll admit it’s a little unusual, but it’s sort of tradition I guess.  At least it was being done when I first got here.”

 

I shrugged.  “Okay, so what do I do?”

 

“There’s a wooden bucket and a broom in that area off the common room,” he said pointing it out.  “All ya gotta do is get eight or ten buckets full of water from the creek, pour it over the floor and then use the broom to clean it off and sweep it out through that hole.”

 

I grabbed the bucket and hefted it.  It wasn’t at all light and this was before it was even filled with water.  “Uh eight buckets full?”

 

“Yeah, and be careful you don’t spill any when you come down the tree.  Peter hates getting his shoes wet.”

 

I sighed and started up the ‘emergency’ stairs towards the top of the tree.  When I got to the top, Surefoot had already beaten me and was grinning at me.  “Look, I shouldn’t tell you this, cuz like I said, you’re the new kid and all and it’s sort of tradition like not learning how to land until you’re actually falling on your face, but…”  He looked around in a dramatic fashion and then talked softly.  “Over yonder is a length of hose that will stretch from the creek into this small hole where a branch broke off.  We set it up as sort of a water hole.  You can thread the hose down that hole and it’s long enough that you can siphon water from the creek directly to the common room without lugging the bucket.  Although, you might want to use the bucket method to work off that stew you’ve been eating.”

 

“Aww, I’ll work on it next time.  Thanks for the tip!”

 

“No problem Cubs, glad to be able to help out.”

 

I guess I should have noticed that the rest of the Lost Boys were hanging around the tree on a day when it was perfect for swimming or just about anything else.  To say that was unusual would have been a massive understatement, but I guess I simply wasn’t paying enough attention.  I quickly set up the hose and ran it through the knothole as Surefoot had indicated.  The water started flowing without my having to do the suction thing and I flew through the trapdoor (okay, it was still a little tight and I guiltily wondered if maybe I should be using the bucket) and slid down to the common room.

 

“That’s weird,” I thought to myself.  “There’s not any water anywhere.”  I waited a few minutes and when there still wasn’t any water, started to search for it.  I still hadn’t found it when I hear a furious ‘tinkling’ sound.  I followed it and found, to my horror, the flow of water.  Apparently the knothole was what Tinkerbell used as the route to her flat which was located near my pallet.  I stood there and watched as a small bed floated out her door and landed with a soggy splat on my already soaked pallet.  A few other odds and ends quickly joined it.  I probably would have simply stood there if Tink hadn’t started pulling my hair and ‘yelling’ at me.

 

I took the stairs up this time so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting stuck in the trapdoor, and quickly pulled the hose out of the knothole.  I raced back downstairs and stood there panting, looking at the sodden mess of my pallet and the debris of what used to be Tink’s furnishings.

 

“Uh, Tink?  I’m really sorry about what happened.  I didn’t know that it was your door that I put the hose through, uhh…”  I stopped as the tinkling sound became a very loud discordant jangle. 

 

I looked over at Leo who had walked in and saw him turn bright red in embarrassment.  “Tink I didn’t even know you knew words like that,” he said before he fled.

 

I cowered and then began to get really scared because Tink was no longer flailing her arms about and she was no longer purple.  Instead she calmed completely down and then gave me a smile that sent shivers down my spine.  It was a smile that promised divine retribution when I least expected it.  It also promised that it would be awhile before it was extracted so the worry and trepidation I’d experience would be maximized.  She gently turned away, quietly flew to the door of her flat and slammed it hard enough that a huge clod of dirt fell from the ceiling on top of my head.

 

Later, after I had mopped the water up (ending up having to use the bucket after all) and carried my bedding outside to dry (which had to be taken far enough away that any wandering pirates wouldn’t be able to find the tree because of it), I sat down with my back against the tree and attempted to catch my breath.  Surefoot walked up with a smug grin on his face.  “Hey Cubby.  Guess you took care of that cleaning, huh?”  He broke up laughing.  “I’ve never known Tink to be quite as angry as she apparently was when you flooded her out.  You do realize that you should never play a joke that you don’t figure you’re going to get paid back for right?”

 

I groaned as I remembered the cup of milk I had (apparently not so) secretly replaced with water and a lump of white river clay.  It wasn’t fair that I had to get paid back so well, because it was generally agreed that no one could taste the difference between the two.  “Yeah, I guess that makes us even now,” I allowed.  Yeah, right it did.  It was time to enlist the aid of another Lost Boy for payback on the payback I thought to myself.

I was eating another bowl of delicious stew for breakfast.  I wasn’t sure I’d ever had stew that consisted of fish and beef at the same time before.  It didn’t taste as bad as it sounded, but I was just as glad I didn’t know what type of beef it contained.  This was my second week in Neverland and it seemed that every time I turned around I was learning something new.  Most of it was interesting, some of it funny and a few things were somewhat disturbing.

 

Red came and sat down next to me with a bowl of stew and a mug of milk.  Milk was another interesting thing on the island.  I wasn’t quite sure what type of milk it was, nor were any of the other boys.  Some days it was decidedly thick and others it seemed like it was more like water with chalk in it than anything else.  All I’d venture was that the milk we drank never saw the inside of a cow.  I usually went for tea which wasn’t too bad.  I’d been assured that it was just as good as herbal tea and the last Lost Boy who’d been poisoned when the wrong type leaf was used was over ten seasons ago.

 

Red looked at me and swallowed a mouthful of stew.  “Have you heard about the feather and the wish?”

 

“What feather?”

 

“You’ve seen the feather in Pan’s hat, right?”

 

“Yeah,” I admitted.

 

“Well there’s a story behind that, although I don’t know the exact details of it all.  But if you’re able to snatch the feather out of Pan’s hat then you get to make a wish.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yup.  The last guy wished for a five layer chocolate crème cake with ice cream.”

 

“Wow.  That’s amazing.  I wouldn’t mind one of those right now.”  While there were few things I missed from the ‘real’ world, chocolate was one of those things I missed most.  I had a very large sweet tooth which was one reason I was as, ummm… cuddly, as I was.  I think I’d have done almost anything for a Cadbury’s Dairy Bar.  “So all I have to do is snatch the feather and I get to make a wish?”

 

“Yup.  Well you have to remove it completely from his hat, but then you get to make your wish.”

 

“So how come everyone isn’t always trying to take the feather out of his hat to get a wish then.”

 

“Well, uh, it only works once.  After you get your wish, it won’t work again.  It’s sort of like one per customer.”

 

“And he doesn’t care if someone tries to do this?”

 

“Aw, heck no.  He likes being able to help us Lost Boys make wishes.”

 

“Huh, that’s interesting,” I said as I started to ponder how I could get my own chocolate.

 

That afternoon we went exploring along the banks of the Great Bear River.  It was a swiftly flowing river that was fairly wide and ran pretty deep.  About a mile downstream from where we were there was a pretty spectacular waterfall that fell about 400 feet.  There were several trees along the banks that looked perfect for swinging out over the water and letting go.  Peter had come along with us and was floating about a foot off the ground, right next to the river.

 

I took a look at the tree he was hovering by and took note of the vine that was practically hanging down next to him.  It looked like it might be a simple thing to go running towards Peter, grab the feather with one hand, the vine with another and simply swing away with the feather while making my wish.  I could already taste chocolate.  The other Lost Boys had hung back together and I wondered if Red had told them about the conversation we had had at breakfast.

 

Everything looked perfect as I took one final check at Peter and the tree he was next to.  I started lumbering towards Peter (okay, I guess even for chocolate I don’t move real fast) and completely missed seeing the muddy place on the ground.  My big paw didn’t though, and landed squarely in the middle of it.  The next moment I was skidding along on my left foot.  My feet ended up moving faster than the rest of me and I ended up sliding along the ground on my back.  I reached up to try and stop and grabbed something.  It was too large to have been the feather, but was about the right size that it could have been Peter’s hat.  I barely had time for that thought to register before I was hanging in midair over the river.  I did a perfect belly flop into the water, but managed to keep a death grip on the object.  I popped up to the surface (I had been a bit worried about that cuz the bearskin was so heavy, but apparently my buoyancy was enough to overcome that) sputtering.  I sort of dog paddled to the far shore, hauled myself onto the gravel bank and took a look at the soggy shoe I held in my hand.  Peter flew up to me and held his hand out for the shoe.  “You okay, Cubby?” he asked with a pseuo-concerned look on his face.  I handed him the shoe and said I was okay.  He gave me an unconvinced look, nodded and flew off.

 

That night there was a delicious meal of stew in the common room.  Peter always sat at the head of the table when he joined us, and earlier that day I had suspended a rope from the ceiling in order to run at it, grab it, swing next to Peter’s Place and grab the feather as I swung by.  I left the table early which occasioned some comment and walked towards the edge of the common room.  I turned, checked the positioning of everything and started galloping towards Peter.  I was up to speed and perfectly positioned.  I leaped, grabbed the rope and started swinging towards the head of the table.  I had placed the rope perfectly and simply reached out and snatched the feather from Pan’s hat as I flew past.  I looked at the feather in my fingers and got totally excited until I heard the large ’’twang’ sound.  That turned out to be the rope fibers parting and I found myself flying towards the common room wall.

 

For one of the few times, I didn’t lead with my head, but did manage to ‘belly flop’ into the wall instead.  It didn’t matter, though.  I still have the feather in my grimy paw and was going to get my chocolate.  Yes!  There was an uproar from the table and all the Lost Boys gave a gasp as they took in what happened.

 

“Cubby!” Peter thundered.  “What are you doing?”

 

“I’ve got the feather, I’ve got the feather.  I get a wish.”

 

Peter walked over to where I was still sprawled against the floor and wall with a confused look on his face.

 

“You get what?” he asked in surprise.

 

“A wish.  You know, because I snatched the feather from your hat.”

 

“I see,” he said.  “Who informed you of that secret anyway?”

 

I looked at Red who was suddenly looking uncomfortable.  “Uh, it’s just something I heard around I guess.  I can’t remember exactly where I heard it.”

 

Peter gave me a searching look, then grinned.  “Well Cubby, I can’t dispute so-called tradition.  If a wish you’ve earned, then a wish you shall receive.  What is your wish?”

 

I mentioned a huge chocolate crème pie, big enough for all the Lost Boys to share.  He nodded and allowed it might come true although he noted that I had said I get to make a wish, not that it would necessarily come true.  “You’re sure you can’t remember who told you about this, eh?”

 

I thought about it again and repeated, “Uh, no, not really.  If I do, I’ll let you know though.”

 

He nodded and gave me a grin.  “Good form, Cubby.”

 

Later that night I ran across Red in a clearing looking up at the stars.  “So that feather tradition is what, maybe a day old or something?”  I asked.

 

“Yeah, pretty much so.”  He reached into a pocket and brought out a chocolate bar that looked as though it had been through several types of distress.  “Here, I sorta had this saved, but it was pretty cool that you didn’t tell Pan where you heard that story from.”

 

I took the chocolate bar, opened it up, and with an extreme show of willpower managed to break off a small corner and returned the rest of it to Red.  “Thanks, I said.  You’d better save the rest in case I manage to make any more wishes though.”  I put the corner in my mouth and savored it as it slowly melted.  My stomach demanded to know where the rest of it was and how I could have been so insane as to have given most of it back.

 

Red grinned, took a piece for himself and shoved the rest of it back in his pocket.  “Has anyone told you what happens if you manage to steal the Jolly Roger off the mast of Hook’s ship?” he asked with an innocent expression.

I was in the middle of the woods with Leo and Tigger who were trying to teach me how to track.  Apparently they were somewhat impressed by my sense of direction and the fact I could normally tell which direction north lay in, but beyond that I guess I was having some difficulties.  I hadn’t done a lot of wandering through the woods where I was originally from and wasn’t sure how much I liked them yet.  There was something on some level that seemed to pull at me when I wandered through them, and for some reason I couldn’t seem to stop stomping in mud puddles.

 

“Don’t worry about it,’ Tigger advised.  “It’s sort of a way of declaring that you’re free to do stuff like that.  If you can believe it, sourpuss over there wouldn’t feel as though he’d accomplished a good journey unless he was covered in mud by the end of it.  I swear he used to carry water during the dry season so he could make his own puddles to stomp in.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo growled, although the grin on his face belied his tone.  “and who was it who couldn’t quit catching fireflies?”

 

“Hey, that was necessary to see if we could gather enough to make a lantern.”

 

Leo just nodded as though knowing better.  “Okay Cubby,” he said to me.  “you’re tracking a bunch of orcs and you know the edge of the forest is ahead and they could have gone in any one of dozens of directions through the swamp, prairie, grasslands, or whatever.  What do you do?”

 

“Uh, stick my nose out of the woods and see where they went?”

 

“Sure, you could do that, and if they left anyone behind to see if you’d do that, no doubt you’d end up with something sticking out of you.  You’re a pretty big target, you know and there ain’t many trees that would hide ya real well.”

 

I sighed and Tigger laughed.  “Don’t worry ‘bear’.  Leo teases everyone about everything.  He’s just jealous cuz you’ll stay warmer in the winter.”  He let lose with a big laugh which forced me to laugh along.

 

“Okay, if you two have had your fun…  What you want to do Cubs, is climb a tree and see if you can see where they’ve vanished to.  With the exception of swampland or if it rained recently, you should see a cloud of dust wherever they are wandering.  Orcs aren’t too bright when it comes to things like that and tend to shuffle rather than walk.  Why dontcha try this tree right here and see what you can see from the top?”

 

“This tree?” I asked pointing at it.

 

“Sure, why not?”

 

“Because it’s made of wood, cuz it looks sticky, cuz it doesn’t look too sturdy.  How’s that for a few reasons?”

 

“Excellent ones they are too.  Now tell my brother you were only joking or we will be stuck here ‘til the end of time,” Tigger said.

 

I sighed again and looked up at the suddenly fragile looking tree.  I put my foot on a branch and started climbing.  I got halfway up the top and was beginning to think this was pretty easy.  The pine sap wasn’t too bad and actually smelled pretty good.  I kept climbing until I was about a couple of feet from the top.  I looked around and was amazed at how much I could see.  It was awesome!

 

From below I heard Leo shout something up to me, but couldn’t make it out.  I looked down and yelled at him to repeat it.  I still couldn’t hear it and started to climb down to see what he had said.  The first two steps down were okay, but I either slipped or missed the third step.  I managed to catch myself and breathed a sigh of relief as I put my foot down on the branch.  There was a large ‘cracking’ sound and my foot was suddenly being supported by air.  As is usually the case, it wasn’t a real good support and my foot started heading towards the ground, the rest of my body following.  I closed my eyes and felt myself fall from tree limb to tree limb.  A few of them I bounced off of and a lot of them I simply went through, taking them along for the ride.  I fell to the ground with a huge whump and panicked when I couldn’t get my breath back for a couple of minutes.  I just knew this was the end and it was with a great sense of relief that my lungs finally sucked in a huge breath of air.

 

I looked up to see Leo and Tigger staring down at me.  “That will leave a mark.  I dunno,” Tigger said.  “What do you think?”

 

“It’s hard to say.  He showed good form, but that final dismount should cost him.”

 

“I agree. 8.4?”

 

“Naw, 8.35.”

 

“Are you nuts?” I asked indignantly.  “I could have been killed.  I…”  For some reason the thought of being scored on my falling out of a tree technique suddenly seemed very funny and I started laughing.  I figured they’d both think I’d gone nuts, but they were both smirking at me as well.

 

“It won’t be…” Leo started.

 

“…the first tree you fall out of,” Tigger finished.

 

“But it hurts.  Why is it so funny?”

 

“Who knows?”  Leo shrugged.

 

“Swifty used to be that way,” Tigger said.

 

“Weird.  Uh, what was so important that you were trying to tell me?”

 

“Oh, I wanted to be sure that you didn’t overbalance and fall,” Leo said with a remarkably straight face.  I thanked him and the next thing I knew was climbing another tree to take a look around.  The second fall wasn’t nearly as much fun, but that probably had something to do with the bee hive and hornet’s nest that came falling to ground with me.

 

That evening I carefully removed the bearskin to see how much damaged I’d done.  There was black and blue from my neck down to my small clothes as well as my thighs and legs.  I heard a whistle of amazement from behind me and turned to see Surefoot standing there.

 

“Whoa, you look like you’ve been tackled by a troll.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I may have fallen out of a tree or two today.”

 

“Really?  And you climbed right back up?”

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

 

“Cool!  So you’re the one who’s going to be our next forest spirit.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah,” he said.  “There’s always one Lost Boy who feels pretty much at home in the woods and tends to do a lot of wandering in them.  You can always tell cuz they’re also the one who is always falling out of trees and for some strange reason it doesn’t bother them at all.  It’s almost as though they like it or something.”

“Well I’m not sure I like it, but I guess it’s not so bad.”

 

He laughed and almost clapped me on the back but managed to stop in time for which I was thankful.  “Better you than me.  I hate heights.”

 

I sank into the pallet after he left and was wondering if I was just nutsy or really was the next forest spirit.

My first week on the island was interesting.  I found out that being a Lost Boy does involve a fair amount of fun, playing, and doing those things you’d expect of a group of boys who don’t grow up.  I also found out the meaning behind Pan’s statement that not growing up doesn’t mean not growing old.  Red took me to a grove that had an almost surreal quality about it.  The trees surrounding it were huge, ancient, and dripped with moss.  I found myself talking in a whisper without being told to.  Red told me that this was the place that Lost Boys were buried.  He showed me the latest plot, the earth still scarred and broken looking, where a Lost Boy had been buried.  Swift was a Lost Boy who had worn a rabbit skin and was killed watching Surefoot’s back during a skirmish between Lost Boys and orcs.

 

“There are orcs here?” I asked.  “I thought only pirates were what Lost Boys did battle against.”

 

“Naw, there are all sorts of things on the island that just live to make us boys die.  The only enemy that really makes sense is the pirates.  Some Lost Boys stole their treasure like generations ago and Hook, he’s been looking for it ever since.  Pirates don’t grow older here either and they don’t seem to die off as fast as we do.  Most Lost Boys don’t come here being trained to fight or kill or anything like that, so the only thing we got going for us is that we move faster and generally don’t think we can be killed I guess.  The rest of them’s that do battle ‘gainst us seem to do it just out of spite or meanness.  We generally don’t start stuff.  Well sometimes Pan will lead us on a raid or something, but we normally get ambushed or attacked or whatever.  It makes for some interesting times.”  He shrugged.  “Anyways, we always show new boys this place to sort of show that you can end up pretty dead and it ain’t all some sort of game or something like that.”

 

I looked at Red.  He was naturally wearing his fox pelt with the hood hanging over his back.  He was a lanky kid with blond hair.  There was something about his expression that the word ‘wild-eyed’ seemed to have been made up especially for.  He always seemed a little bit nervous.  Not like he’d done anything wrong, but as though he had all this energy he had to get rid of before it destroyed him from the inside-out.  Looking at the fox pelt made me wonder about something I asked him.  “So what’s the deal with the pelts and skins we wear?  I mean granted I’m as fat as a bear ready to hibernate and the bearskin I’m in seems to be real size.  Yet I never saw a fox as big as you or raccoons as large as Stumble or Surefoot.  And the kangaroo skin that Roo wears seems a bit smaller than your average kangaroo.”

 

“Well the stories say that Pan makes us wear animal skins cuz he doesn’t want anyone to mistake any of us for him.  I dunno how true that is, but it’s hard to mistake any of us for Pan.  The only other one who has red hair is you and your like twice as wide as he is.  Then there are those ears of his.  He’s part elf somewhere along the line.  Swift swore that he was some sort of being like Puck.  Swift was pretty smart and was always telling us stories about ancient myths and tales and things like that.  Anyway, no one except Pan knows why we wear the things, and he ain’t one for telling a lot about himself.  They are warm though, and do a pretty fair job of keeping the rain and snow off ya.”  He looked up as though searching the clouds for the words he wanted.  “The skins come from the Woodland Elves and are ‘donated’ by animals that have died and made their decision known somehow.  I ain’t sure exactly how it works, but the elves collect them and use magic to make it so they fit us.  When a new Lost Boy shows up, he gets a new one and has it ‘til he passes on.  I don’t know how the elves know when we need a new one or what type of skin we’ll need.  I guess it’s all done through some sort of magic thing.”

 

“Well,” I said sort of self-consciously because I didn’t want to sound like I was complaining when I was simply curious, “this bearskin doesn’t appear to be real new.”

 

“Naw, it ain’t.  A couple of us wondered about that when we first saw that you were going to get it.  Far as we know, you’re the first Lost Boy to get a ‘used’ skin and the first to get a ‘used’ name.  There used to be a Cubby awhile ago and that was the fur he wore as well as the bed he slept in.  Hope you ain’t superstitious or anything like that.”

 

“Not really, I guess.  But I’d of thought he’d have been, I guess, you know, buried in it.”

 

Red looked a bit ill at ease.  “Well truth of the matter, as I hear it, is no one really knows what happened to Cubby.  ‘tweren’t his body or anything else found, just the bearskin and his club.  That’s why he weren’t buried in it.  He ain’t even buried at all, or so the stories go.”

 

That sort of sent a shiver down my spine as I considered some of the possibilities that seemed to bring up.  “So what was he like?”

 

“Dunno.  You’d have to ask Stumble about that.  He’s sort of our recorder I guess you could say.  He’s not real good at fighting or anything cuz he’s sort of clumsy and probably more danger to himself than any enemy we’d be fighting, so we tell him our stories and tales ‘bout what happens and he keeps ‘em in his head or writes ‘em down.  We figure he’ll out survive most of us if he doesn’t eat too much of his cooking.”

 

I looked around the grove which for some reason seemed suddenly huge.  “How many Lost Boys are there here?”

 

“I dunno that either.  Too many for sure no matter how you count ‘em.  All any of them wanted was to just manage to survive without pain or suffering and look where they ended up at.  I only hope that they’re on one heck of an adventure now.”  He abruptly turned and headed back the way we came.  “C’mon, let’s get out of here.  This place gives me the creeps big time.”

 

Later that day I ran across Stumble.  Literally since I managed to trip over him after he fell over a root in front of me.  This amused the other Lost Boys no end who decided that Stumble might now have a rival for the clumsiest Lost Boy title.  Stumble made a big deal out of getting to his feet and making sure that I hadn’t broken any bones when I landed on top of him.  It was so corny that even I was laughing by the time he finished making sure he was whole.

 

Stumble was dressed as a raccoon and I don’t think I ever saw him when his hood wasn’t up over his head.  I think he had brown hair but it was hard to tell since you hardly ever saw it.  He was average height and build and there was nothing that would have distinguished his appearance from thousands of other kids around London.  He normally was in a pretty good humour and had a grin on his face, but was insanely quick to anger when you started to tease him about his cooking ability.  The first night I was on the island, he told me it was good to have someone on the island who obviously appreciated food the way I did.  I’m still trying to determine if he was being sarcastic or not.

 

After the other boys went back to doing what it was they had been before our collision I asked him about the original Cubby, mentioning that Red had said he might know something.

 

“Aw, he’s easy.  You could have asked me something a lot harder.”

 

“What makes him so easy to remember?” I asked.

 

“Because he was written about in the ‘real’ world.  Him and Slightly, Nibs, Toodles and the Twins.  They’re always the first ones asked about when a new kid shows up.  Before you ask, Wendy, John and Michael were real too, although the story and what really happens seem to be a little different, although no one is quite sure in what way anymore.  Anyway, Cubby was sort of clumsy, like you.  He had red hair and was awfully big, like you.  He had freckles…” he trailed off and took a closer look at me.  “Huh, no wonder you’re called Cubby.  You look a lot like the way he’s described.  He didn’t have a whole lot of self-confidence, but still managed to get a lot done.  Don’t suppose you’re like that, are you?”

 

“No,” I shook my head.  “I’m basically scared of my shadow and don’t think I’ve done much in the way of anything except survive.”

 

“Sure,” was his only comment to that.  “Then I guess Red told you that no one knows what happened to him either?”

 

“Yeah.  He mentioned that.  I was just sort of curious to know what he was like.”

 

Stumble shrugged.  “Well from what’s been passed on to me, he was big, clumsy and normally had a goofy grin on his face cuz he enjoyed it here a lot.  He was pretty loyal too it’s told.”  He thought for a minute or so.  “Hmm, normally all anyone asks is if they existed and how they died.  No one’s ever asked me about their personalities or anything like that.  I guess you could sum him up by saying he was well meaning, big hearted and quick to forgive just about anything.  That’s about all I could tell ya off the top of my head, but no doubt there’s a journal somewhere with more stuff in it if you really want to know.”

 

“It’s okay, I just wondered.  Oh, there is one thing else you could tell me if you know.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Well it’s about Roo.  He told me that he was the one who listened in case anything was bothering me that I didn’t want to talk about.”

 

“Yeah,” Stumble said hesitantly.

 

“Well who does he talk to when he has something bothering him?”

 

Stumble thought about that for a moment and then shrugged.  “I have no idea.  Maybe Peter?”

 

I thanked him and wandered up to the cliffs that overlooked the sea below.  I thought about the original Cubby and sort of wished I’d known him.  He sounded as though he’d be a cool person to know for some reason.  Then I thought about Roo and wondered if he actually opened up to anyone.  I hardly ever told anyone anything that was happening inside of me and there were times I figured it probably wasn’t a good idea.  I wondered if Roo was the same way and if I dared offer to listen sometime and how one would do that.  I sighed as I decided this place was a lot more complicated than the stories painted it to be.

I got into the bearskin which I noted did seem to fit me almost perfectly.  I bundled up my old clothes and threw them in the corner that Roo had told me too.  I walked over to the table where he was sitting with two steaming bowls of something and sat down on the bench next to him.

 

“Here ya go, fresh from the fire.  You’ll discover that an awful lot of meals around here consist of stew.  Don’t ask me what’s in it.  Sometimes it tastes good and other times… well it doesn’t taste as good.  We’re not real fancy around here, so don’t bother looking for a spoon.”  He held the bowl up to his mouth and slurped some out of it.  I went ahead and cautiously did the same.  It tasted a little gamy and there were some vegetables or something I couldn’t identify.  Since it had been awhile since I’d eaten anything though, I went ahead and finished it off and got seconds.

 

Roo shook his head.  “Yeah, everyone always likes it the first time and even the twenty-first time, but you’ll get sick of it eventually.  Stumble is our cook and it’s the only thing he knows how to make.  We do get some fruit and stuff sometimes, but don’t count on it.  Stumble stew is basically what a Lost Boy lives on.”

 

I finished off the rest of the second helping as Roo quietly sat there appearing to think.  He finally started to talk.  “There’s a lot of stories in the ‘real’ world about us Lost Boys.  Some of them are true, but a lot of stuff isn’t or the whole story doesn’t get told.  Yeah, Lost Boys don’t grow up.  But that not growing up isn’t the same thing as not getting older.  Plus sometimes I think the reason we don’t grow up is a lot of us end up dying before we can.  There’s a billion different ways to get hurt on the island, and sometimes I think I’ve seen them all.  Don’t get me wrong, though.  If Pan hadn’t found me when he did, I’d of ended up with a really bad case of dead long before now.  I just don’t want you to think everything is like perfect here and we spend our days laughing and playing and stuff like that.  We do a lot of it, but there’s a lot of other stuff that ends up in pelts getting blood stains on them and burying Lost Boys if we can find enough of them left to do it.”

 

“Why’s he do it?” I asked.  “I mean, why does Peter go into the ‘real’ world and bring back Lost Boys?”

 

“I dunno.  None of us know.  It just seems to happen.  I’d like to say that it’s cuz he’s helping those of us who can’t handle the real world survive.  But I’m sort of skeptical I guess and figure there’s got to be another reason for it.  Then there are those who take the Midnight Walk.  They certainly weren’t helped by being here.”

 

“What’s the Midnight Walk?” I asked.  It didn’t sound like it was anything good.

 

“That’s what we call it when a Lost Boy for whatever reason decides he can’t handle it here.  Normally sometime around midnight they’ll go to the beach and simply walk into the water and keep walking until they… well, drown I guess.  We’ve never found a body or anything washed back up on the beach, but I doubt there’s another Pan out there who rescues them.”  He sighed.  “Whenever that happens, I can’t stand it.  I’ve managed to talk a few out of it, but once they make up their mind…” he shrugged.  “Sometimes it’ll happen within a couple of days of arriving, other times it’ll be a boy who’s been here almost a year.”

 

“Anyway, don’t let me get you all depressed about this place.  You asked about the blood though, and that’s the quickest way to answer.  I wasn’t here when the first Cubby passed on to the next adventure.  Actually, none of the boys were.  That was a fair time ago, but you’re the first one to wear the bearskin since then.  You look sort of the way he’s been described too.  But there’s a lot of fun stuff on the island too.  There’s a million places to go swimming or hiking.  There’s trees to climb, places to explore, the Woodland Elves’ village to wander in.  Stuff like that.  You’ll have a group of friends who’d do anything for you up to and including dying.”  He sobered for a moment.  “Yeah, I’ve seen that happen too.”  He shook his head and livened up a bit.  “But you’ll see.  There aren’t really any rules here.  Just follow what Pan says and you’ll be okay.  Remember it’s not a game.  You get caught by the pirates and you really will walk the plank or some other gruesome thing.  Magic exists here, but you probably won’t see it a lot.  Uh, I don’t know what else.  Oh.  If ya ever have a problem you need to talk about, I’m sort of the one who listens.  You’ll get into some of the most interesting conversations with the other boys about everything, but if there’s something you want to discuss that’s botherin’ you or you just don’t want to share it, then I’m the one who listens.  Just let me know.”

 

I nodded.  He grinned and slapped me on the back.  “Don’t worry Cub, you’ll do just fine.  Believe me, you’re a lot luckier being here than out there in the ‘real’ world.  I had no doubt at all that he was right.

The island turned out to be a lot bigger than the stories had prepared me for, and a lot more varied in terrain.  Peter gave me a quick tour of the island pointing out various spots.  The southern area of the island was what the tales had led me to expect.  Sort of tropical with beaches and lagoons.  There was a large bay with a pirate ship floating in it.

 

“Cap’n Hook’s ship?  Then he really is real?”

 

“Course he’s real,” Peter responded.  “We stole his treasure and he’s been trying to get it back ever since.  He never will though, cuz we keep hiding it in a different location each time.  Sometimes he gets a bit upset over that.”

 

A little north of the tropical section was where a large forest began.  Although I couldn’t see it from where we were, Peter pointed down to the area where the Lost Boy’s home, Hangman’s Tree was located.  “No one has ever found it before,” he proudly exclaimed.  The western coast of the island had cliffs that rose above the sea.  The northern portion of the island was shrouded by fog and what lay beyond that couldn’t be seen.  “That’s the North Wood.  You never want to get caught in there by yourself, or even with a bunch of other Lost Boys.  Nothing good ever comes from there.”  The rest of the interior of the island was woods and hills, forests, rivers, streams and lakes.  It looked like a wonderful place for exploring and getting totally lost in.  There was a small village near Hangman’s Tree which I was told was the Woodland Elves’ village.  He went on to explain that north of the North Woods was the area the High Elves claimed as their own.

 

Peter turned back towards the southern end of the island and led me towards a large stretch of beach.  I watched as his feet touched the sand, skipped once, and then gently touched down on the beach.  He turned back towards me and watched as I approached with a huge grin on his face.  It was about that time I realized that I had no idea how to actually land.  I let out a squawk as my feet hit the ground hard.  I took two or three huge running steps before I lost my balance and ended up going face first through the sand until I was stopped by a tree trunk.  As everything started to fade away, I heard Peter say, “Oops, guess I forgot to tell you how to stop.  It doesn’t look like you broke anything though.”

 

I don’t think I was out too long.  I lay in the sand on my stomach with my eyes closed and my head pounding.  In the background I could here the waves against the sand and a whole bunch of voices.

 

“Man, look how long that ditch is.  He must have been flying when he came in.”

 

“Well, Duuuuhhhh.”

 

“You know what I mean,” followed by sounds of a brief scuffle and someone yelling, “Ouch, that hurt.”

 

“He sure is fat.”

 

“Probably pretty clumsy too, from the look of that ditch he dug.”

 

“Naw, he can’t be clumsier than Stumble.”

 

“Clumsy?  Who you calling clumsy?”  There were sounds of another brief scuffle.

 

“I thought we were going to get a scout.  He doesn’t look like he can sneak real well.”

 

I jerked as I felt someone prodding my head.  “Okay, back off and give him some room.  Me too for that matter.”  The voice sounded distinctly Australian.  I groaned, rolled over and saw the speaker and prodder was a kid who looked a little older than me dressed in a kangaroo pelt.  He saw me looking at him and gave me a quick grin.  “Looks like you’re going to survive, although you’re probably going to have a pretty good sized goose egg on yer head.  You must have a pretty thick skull under that mop of hair you have.  He looked back at the trench my landing had created.  “Looks like someone else wasn’t told how to land.  It’s sorta a tradition we’ve all gotten to go through.  By the way I’m Roo.”

 

Peter came up on my other side and watched as Roo helped me to my feet.  He called to the boys standing around to fall in and they quickly formed a ragged line facing me.  “Boys, this is our newest Lost Boy, Cubby.  He may be the lostest lost boy and is definitely the biggest one which will probably make Stumble and Surefoot happy since they’ll have someone to hide behind now.”

 

“Cubby?” someone said, “There was already a Cubby.”

 

“Cubby,” Peter said, “this is Surefoot and this is Stumble.  Two raccoons who were not twins and looked about my age stepped forward and nodded. “Red.” A boy in a fox pelt gave me a grin and a nod.  “Tigger and Leo,” he said as a tiger and a lion who looked as though they were twins stepped forward.  He pointed to the kangaroo next to me.  “You’ve already met Roo.  He’s sort of our first aid person.  How about getting him squared away with everything, Roo?”  Roo nodded as Peter and the rest of the boys wandered away.

 

Roo looked at me, “Man, Leo was right, you are a biggun.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, and I fall harder too.”

 

He rolled his eyes, “Great, another comedienne.  Just what the island needed.  C’mon and I’ll show you where home is and all that other good stuff.”

 

He led me through the forest until we came to a huge tree.  Not huge as in tall, but huge as in wide with a massive trunk.  Roo seemed to vanish through a part of the trunk.  I followed him and found that he had gone through a trap door that looked just like a part of the tree.  If he had closed it all the way when he went through, I wouldn’t have been able to tell there was even anything there.  I tried to get through the trap door and promptly got stuck.  After a bunch of flailing around and panic, I managed to get myself back out of the trap door and tumbled to the ground.  In a minute Roo stuck his head back out the trap door.

 

“Whoops, I forgot you’re bigger than I am.  We each have our own door in case…”  he scratched his head.  “Well, just because.  I guess you can use this one over here.  It leads to the common room.”  He showed me another trap door hidden like the other one.  This one was a couple of feet up the trunk of the tree and was reached by climbing.  It was a lot bigger than the first one, but was still a tight squeeze.  When I finally made it through, I ended up falling down a slide that ended up depositing me in the middle of a large room.  The walls looked like tree trunk, the floor was dirt and the ceiling above was dirt as well, with roots breaking through every now and then.  Along the sides of the room were pallets made up of furs and blankets.  In the middle of the room was a large wooden table surrounded by benches.  One end of the room contained a fireplace or firepit over which a pot of something that smelled wonderful was currently bubbling.  Roo came in through one of the doors that led into the room.

 

“Well here it is.  The Lost Boys’ home.  Um, let’s see.  Here it is.”  He took me over to a large pallet that had a large brown bear skin on top of it, along with a large wooden club.  Next to the pallet there was a rough looking trunk.  “This is where the original Cubby’s place was.  Now you’ve got three of the four things you need most.  Clothes, bed and weapon.”

 

“What’s the fourth?” I asked.

 

“Food of course,” he laughed.  “You look as though you don’t forget that too often.”  He gave a light punch to my shoulder and a grin to take the sting out of the words.

 

I picked up the bearskin and shook it out.  It felt like it weighed a ton and looked enormous.  “This is huge,” I said, “and heavy.”

 

“You’ll get used to it, and I bet it fits you perfectly.  Might even be a bit tight.”

 

I examined it and noticed  it looked like it had seen some hard use.  The knees looked as though they had been patched repeatedly and there were several areas that had been sloppily stitched up.  It looked like there was a blood stain along one side starting where a rip had been neatly mended..  “Is that blood?” I asked.

 

He sighed.  “Look, why don’t you throw that on.  You won’t need your old clothes and I use them as bandages, so just throw them over there,” he said indicating a corner of the room.  “When you’re done, we’ll have some stew and I’ll tell you the stuff you don’t hear about being a Lost Boy from Pan or any of the tales in the ‘real’ world.

Flying was extremely exciting for the first hour or so.  Once my body grudgingly got used to the flying, it decided it wouldn’t put me through losing the meager contents of my stomach.  I practiced soaring and diving towards the sea and things like that.  Yet it went downhill rapidly from there.  It’s probably a different experience if you’re flying over the land or during the day, but when it’s over the sea at night and the moon has set, it ends up being more panic-inducing than anything else.  The panic was added to by the fact that Peter casually mentioned that if I feel asleep, I’d probably wake up drowning and he wouldn’t be able to help me at all.  Naturally as soon as I heard that, I began to yawn.

 

The sky above us suddenly blazed as a shooting star flew over and vanished over the horizon.  “There ya go Cubby, the perfect wishing star.  Make the perfect wish on it”

 

The first thing that popped into my head was a wish for close friends.  Peter’s voice came from somewhere off to my left, “Not bad Cubby, not bad at all.  As a Lost Boy, though, you’ll never be friendless again.  Yet it’s a noble wish that shows good form indeed.”

 

We continued the monotonous journey.  I wished it were more like the ones you read in stories where your suddenly seem to be there instead of it taking forever.  As we flew along, I heard Peter humming something and about the third time through realized it was a Manic Street Preachers song.  Of all the things I’d ever thought about Pan, the Lost Boys and Neverland, none of them included anything like that.  I wondered if this was some sort of sign that the Neverland I was getting ready to arrive in wasn’t anything like the one I had read and knew about.

 

My eyes started getting heavy again and I decided I’d better concentrate on something before I fell asleep.  A sudden thought popped into my skull.  “I thought Lost Boys were boys who went missing after they fell out of their prams and weren’t missed by anyone.  I guess part of it must be wrong since I’m a bit big for a pram anymore.

 

“I don’t have any idea how that story got started.  I haven’t ever seen a wee one fall out of a pram that there wasn’t a huge fuss made over it.  Besides, can you see ME being nursemaid to a bunch of whining, crying babies?  Perish that thought before it’s born.  Nope, Lost Boys are just that.  Lost.  You feel lost, don’t you Cubby?  You certainly looked lost wandering around that estate tonight.  But you’re spot on about the ‘not being missed’ part.  No Lost Boy ever had the bedroom window left open for them so they could return if they wanted to.  That means they’re always on the outside looking in.”

 

I pondered on that for a minute.  A lot of it made sense, but…  “How many Lost Boys are there now?”

 

“You’ll be the seventh one when we get there.”

 

“How come there aren’t a whole bunch of them?  It seems like there’d be lots of lost ones around.”

 

“There are that, but to be a Lost Boy you have to believe in magic, pixies, elves and Neverland.  That doesn’t happen a lot these days.  Probably why there are more who are lost than there used to be.  But if ya don’t believe, than Neverland won’t let you in.”

 

He was silent for a moment, then said, “Time to look sharp.  See the way those stars seem to be shimmering up there?  That’s the boundary between this realm and my realm.  You’ll feel all mixed up when you go through it, but just relax and don’t worry ‘bout anything and it’ll be fine.

 

I tried relaxing which was close to impossible and then felt dizzy and really nauseous as we passed through… something.  Everything settled back down again and there didn’t seem to be any difference between where we were now and where we’d been before we crossed the boundary.  “No it’s simply ‘straight on ‘til morning’,” Peter said.  “Keep those eyelids open a little bit longer and quit yawning or you’ll have me doing it.

 

Gradually the sky got lighter and the stars began to vanish.  Both the sun and a speck of green appeared over the horizon at the same time.  This was the first land I’d seen since leaving the British coast earlier and was hoping that was Neverland as I was not sure I could stay awake much longer.

 

“Land ho!” Peter sang out.  “Take a good look, friend Cubby, for there lies your new home.  Sorry there aren’t any trains on it though, but I don’t think you’ll be needing any once you’ve been here for awhile.  Gradually one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen approached below me.

I was wandering some industrial estate in Wenxton at around midnight.  It was cold and rainy, and the sweatshirt I was wearing had soaked through hours ago.  I had about 65p in my pocket and no idea where I was going to spend the rest of the night.  I was simply walking to keep moving and hadn’t realized I was wandering through the estate until I noticed the lack of traffic or noise.

 

A few hours earlier I’d upset the pater by only having a five pound note to give him after he came home from the pub.  In gratitude he helped me through the front door of the flat without bothering to open it.  Fortunately council housing isn’t well built and the door shattered rather than the top of my thick skull when the two connected.  He hurled a stream of abuse at me and threatened to step outside, so I turned tail and ran.  I never could have been called courageous I guess.

 

I didn’t really have any place to go to, so I wandered the city the rest of the afternoon and evening, trying to avoid the eyes of any constables.  Sort of hard to go to the police for help when one of their has had a go at you.  So I found myself wandering down a deserted street between twin rows of high fence behind which sat a couple of shuttered factories.  I had already decided I wasn’t going back.  There was nothing for me there, nor was there anything for me anywhere.  I knew I had an aunt up north in Edinburgh, but she was on my father’s side and I didn’t think I’d be welcome with open arms there.  London was just a skip away, but then what? 

 

The more I thought about it the more I decided maybe it was time to just end this whole stupid thing.  It wasn’t like I’d be giving up anything.  It might hurt for a second, but after that, no worries.  I knew that there was a train that crossed an underpass on the main street on its way to Manchester in about 45 minutes.  I could make that in plenty of time and be on my way to the hereafter in under an hour.

 

I was walking back towards the main road, approaching a streetlight when I saw him staring at me.  I’m a pretty big kid, and normally when I catch someone staring at me I simply ignore them.  It was harder to do that this time because I was being stared at by someone who was about four feet off the ground.  Floating off the ground.  Floating in a sitting position with no means of support.  He had hair which was redder than mine and funny looking ears, almost like what you’d imagine an elf would have.  He was dressed all in green and had to have been freezing because he was in short sleeves.  He had on some sort of funny looking had with a feather in it.  He looked like he was only a couple of years older than me.  My first wild thought was that I was looking at Peter Pan.  My second thought was that I must have gone through that door a lot harder than I thought because I was beginning to see things.  I walked forward until I stood in the cone of light that the streetlight was making on the street.  I looked up at the floating figure and stared back at him.

 

“You can see me, can’t you?” he asked, flashing a quick grin.  His voice had sort of a musical lilt to it that came close to sending shivers down my spine.  I’m pretty much a craven and wondered in the back of my mind why I hadn’t started running down the middle of the road yelling yet.  I nodded my head to his question about being able to see him.

 

“I bet you haven’t run in donkey’s.  Besides, if you can see me than you believe in faith, trust and pixie dust, so there’s not really any need to run at all, is there?

 

I nodded again thinking that at the moment that made as much sense as anything else seemed to this night.  Besides, I’d always believed that there was a bit of magic hanging around, even if most of mine did seem to come from the dark side usually.

 

“Quiet one, ain’t ya?  No, don’t nod your head again.  I already know all about you.  Unloved, lost, no friends and soaking wet.  If you were to disappear, no one would even care or notice would they?  Well except for the engineer on the Manchester run if you went that way.  I’ve seen a bunch of Lost Boys in my time, but you may be the lostest I’ve ever run across.

 

Tell me… hmmmm.  You look like Cubby, especially with that red hair and tummy of yours.  Tell me Cubby, think you’d be interested in exploring, adventuring, and never being friendless again?  I can assure you that it’s a lot more fun than doing battle with a train.  Of course it’s not all fun and games.  There’s times you might want to give up, and some boys have.  There be battles and pirates and all sorts of other things, but I think you can handle it.

 

I looked up at him floating in the air and thought this whole thing was totally insane.  I must have been hurt worse than I thought going through that door and was probably lying in a gutter somewhere imagining all this was happening.  Any moment now I would wake up wishing with all my being that this was real.

 

“C’mon Cubby,” he scowled.  “Surely it can’t take even you this long to figure out where a Lost Boy such as yourself truly belongs does it?  What’s it going to be?  Neverland or the Manchester express?”

 

“I want out,” I whispered.  “I hate it here.”

 

He gained about a foot in altitude and then started talking again in a very serious manner, “Hate, such a strong word that.  One not to be used lightly when talking of places where magic plays.  If you come with me you’ll have adventures like you couldn’t even imagine.  You’ll fight pirates, trolls, and even the odd dragon.  Just remember, a Lost Boy knows how to follow orders and how to be loyal.  How to take care of his fellows and how to play.  How to fight and how to survive and be slightly less than human.  A Lost Boy is always curious and loves adventures.  He never grows up, although that’s not the same thing as growing old.  You’ll obey me or you’ll discover what happens when a Lost Boy gets ‘found’ and I promise you it won’t be something you’ll enjoy.  Finally, never forget that I’m Pan and no one crows louder than me.  So what do you say, is it a deal?”

 

It didn’t take me but a second to say, “Deal!”  The wind died down and the rain faltered for a moment and I swear the street light grew dim, but I’m sure that was just my overactive imagination.  “I’d fight a demon if that’s what it would take.”

 

“Rash words, friend Cubby, rash words indeed.  No doubt you may get your wish one day, but for now I think we’ll stick with the more mundane battles.  Now, I’m sure you’ve heard the drill.  Faith, trust and a pinch of pixie dust.”  He gave me a critical look.  “Well it may take more like a handful to get you up in the air, but I’m sure we can get it sorted out in no time.”

 

He sprinkled me with something and told me to hang on.  “Don’t worry too much about the happy thoughts part.  I’ve found that Lost Boys don’t tend to have many happy thoughts when I first find them for some reason.”

 

I was suddenly floating through the air with the estate rapidly disappearing below.  It was hard to decide if I was more excited than I’d ever been before or scared to death.  I was leaning towards the latter.  In either case, I was afraid I was going to throw up.

 

“Don’t you dare puke on me, Cubby.  I’d hate to have to show you how fast pixie dust can wear off if I want it to.  Now then second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.”

 

I looked down at the reflection of the moon skimming across the sea as we passed both the British coast and the rain squall and pondered about what I was getting myself into.