by Anna Katmore
“What do you mean like—” I don’t get to finish the sentence, because Bre already scurries out of the room and the door shuts on its own accord behind her. Great.
I suck in a deep breath. Why do I keep finding myself in this weird house? But whacking my head over it doesn’t get me out any faster, so I pull off my pants and drape them over the board at the bed’s foot end. Then I knock on the chest like I was told. But seriously, how do you knock on something like you meant it? I try to picture the chest to be the door to a tiny troll’s house. When I’m done, I almost expect someone to shout “Enter” from inside.
Of course, there’s no reply, so I lift the lid and take out a bundle of dark clothes.
The pants are made of gray fabric that reminds me of ship sails. They are wide and baggy. Without a belt they sit loosely on my hips. The top is something similar to the long-sleeved shirt Angel wore on her the first day we met. It’s black with a hood and two pockets on the front.
A pair of gray shoes was in the chest, too. I lower on the bed and put them on. The soles are flexible and long laces are threaded crisscross through tiny metal hoops. After I tied them, I stand up and test the new footwear. It feels a bit strange to have my ankles bare. But then the pants are long enough to cover them and even scrape on the floor as I walk.
The weirdest item of this new clothing is, however, the dark gray hat…if one could call it that anyway. There’s no feather on it, and the brim is practically non-existing. There’s only this small part that shades the eyes. Raking my hair back, I put the hat on. Like the rest, it fits perfectly. It doesn’t mean I’m feeling in the least comfortable in these clothes, though.
As I close the chest and turn around, Bre stands behind me. I didn’t hear her come in and gasp.
“You look good in London clothes, James Hook.” She fumbles with the hood on my shoulders, weaving an aura of cold around my face. “Otherworldly.”
And that’s exactly how I feel. But putting on these things also brought a whiff of adventure with it. My heart speeds up at the prospect of seeing Angel again. Tonight?
Hopefully.
I decide not to think about Peter and his cruel plan right now but let the rush of anticipation swap me away. There’s time later to figure out the rest.
I grab the jar with the pixie dust and slip the last beckon bean into my pocket. Bre shows me out through the door. It leads into the familiar front garden of her neat little cottage. “Thank you,” I tell her and head along the path leading toward the low picket fence. Halfway there, I whirl on the spot and jog back.
Bre smiles as I stop in front of her again. I kiss her on the cheek. “Really, thank you, fairy,” I say.
“Good luck, James Hook.”
I nod and make the mistake to glance over her shoulder. Behind her, inside the house, all the furniture has disappeared once again and all that’s left is a great hall with stone walls and a chessboard floor. Shaking my head, I smile to myself and head off through the forest.
Another rush of excitement makes me up my pace. These new shoes are prefect for a jog through the woods. Once back under an open sky, I can hardly cope with the anticipation boiling inside me and run as fast as I can.
Almost there at the Jolly Roger, I hear Bull’s Eye Ravi shout from the crow’s nest, “Commander Smee! Someone’s coming at us. Crazy look, wants to enter!”
From fifty feet away, I see how Jack gapes over the railing in my direction. A couple of seconds later his voice rises above all. “Pull in the gangplank!”
I skitter to a halt just in time before I’d have dashed over the edge and into the ocean, with the gangway being drawn in right in front of my nose. “What the hell—Smee!”
Everybody comes to stare at me, Jack Smee does so the hardest. “Cap’n?” he shouts, grimacing.
“Yeah, well, that would be me.” Pulling off the weird hat, I send him a wry look. “Now lower the gangplank, dammit!”
The board is extended. “Thanks for letting me get on my ship, Mr. Smee,” I snap at him as I enter.
“You’re welcome.” He flashes a bright grin which then turns into a really clueless expression. “What in the name of God are you wearing?”
“Clothes.”
“Not yours.”
“The fairies gave me them.”
“You’ve seen the nutcases again? Why didn’t you say so when you left?” He steps a little closer and lowers his voice. “I actually started to worry about you, James.”
“It’s all good.” Smirking, I clap a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to see them, but as it was, I happened to run into a rainbow. Literally.”
Smee’s eyes grow wide. “You caught one?”
“Aye. Now pull anchor. I’ve a date with my girl.”
After looking at me in quite a wondrous way for half a minute, Jack swallows his bafflement and turns to the crew. “All hands on deck, ye filthy bilge rats! Draw anchor! Set sails! We’re leaving Neverland!”
Excited bustling starts on the main deck. The men hum a well-known tune as they turn the wheel that lifts the anchor. In the meantime, I open the jar and start dusting the entire ship with the glimmering gold powder, careful not to use more than one third of it. Wherever the dust rains down, the boards of the ship turn a fancy golden color. Gasps erupt from around me. Oh yes, the Jolly Roger looks quite impressive when I’m done.
“Which course?” Jack demands as I join him on the bridge.
“Let that be my concern.” Grinning, I pull the last beckon bean from my pocket and pop it into my mouth. When it burst between my teeth, the expected longing for the sky takes hold of me once again. Only this time, I know exactly what to do.
Spinning the wheel hard to the left, the Jolly Roger takes a turn that knocks everybody off their feet. “Hold on, ye mangy dogs!” I shout over my shoulder and laugh out loud as the ship’s bow rises out of the water and glides into the air. The wood creaks, the sails bloat. Water drips from the ship’s belly. On a slow but steady ascend, we climb the sky.
“Wicked,” Smee breathes next to me, gripping the railing with clawed fingers.
I cast him a sidelong glance and nod, then I face forward again. “You wait, Peter Pan. I’m going to get my girl back.”
Chapter 7
WHATEVER I DO, whichever way I turn the wheel, it feels perfectly right. The crew latches onto the railing or ropes so as not to fall off. Fin Flannigan kneels on the main deck, his arms wrapped around the mast, teeth clattering. The rest of them don’t look any happier. Except for Smee next to me—he laughs as the ship cuts through the sky, higher and higher.
“Scuttle me bones, Cap’n! If this is what you get for catching a rainbow, we should’ve doubled the men’s efforts from the start.”
He gets a nod from me, but secretly I’m wondering if I’ll ever tell him how I really happened to knock into one. Chances are slim.
The sky rapidly grows darker until we sail in the midst of a midnight blue canopy decorated with sparkling bright diamonds on all sides. On a constant, calm pace, the Jolly Roger moves through a shower of falling stars, then I turn the wheel gently to the right and steer her around a breathtaking moon.
“How do you know which route?” Smee asks and leans out, extending his arm as far as possible. Still, he’s not able to touch the silvery orb, if that was his aim.
“The beckon bean, I guess. I just know.” Behind the moon all I have to do is think down, and the ship starts a lazy descent. If the feeling in my stomach can be trusted, we’re getting closer. And really, it only takes a few more minutes until a new sea of lights appears beneath the ship’s belly.
Evading the overcrowded area where an overflow of sounds drifts from, our destination is a little outside this tremendous town which can only be London. The lower we sink, the thicker the layer of clouds gets around us, but they soon change their consistence. It’s almost like we’re looking through the swarming surface of water. Everything is visible underneath, but slightly blurred. This must be what th
e fairy talked about. Our shield, which protects us from the foreign world below.
At my command, the ship dips slightly portside after we passed an impressive clock tower, following that direction. The brighter lights fade along the ride, giving way to empty streets lined with trees and an occasional streetlamp at the corners. My stomach twists in a funny way all of a sudden, almost like someone is twirling it in a spiral. A huge house stands under the ship. It has a dark roof, two half round balconies extend from one side of the façade, and ample gardens stretch all around the property. Some of the windows cast a warm yellow shine into the darkness.
“I think we’re here,” I whisper to Jack.
“Do we drop anchor?”
“Not necessary.” The ship comes to a standstill by itself. We must be hovering right above Angel’s house. “Ravi,” I call with a suppressed voice to the man in the crow’s nest. “What can you see?”
The bald, black pirate lifts the spyglass to his good eye. “Not much, Cap’n. No one’s outside. Movement on the second floor. Someone just closed a window.”
My heart thuds in my chest. “I’ll go down.”
“What? Now?” Smee’s brows shoot up. “We didn’t check out the perimeter. What if someone sees you? And how do you go down anyway? For all it’s worth, you can’t fly.”
“I don’t care. It’s dark, no one’s in the street. Let me down on a rope if you must.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll knock on her door.”
Smee gives me a skeptical look, but from those staring contests I always come out as the winner. Captain’s authority. He fetches a rope and winds it around the main mast then he hands me the other end. “Jerk twice when you want back up.”
The rope wound tight around my hands, the men let me down into the garden. The air is chillier on the ground. I sneak around the house and step up to the wide wooden door that has bits of glass in it. A button with a bell sign glows yellow in the dark. At my push, a soft melody of eight notes plays inside.
Moments later, a middle aged woman with graying hair tied into a bun at the back of her head opens and greets me with a polite smile. She straightens her black dress over her chubby body as though she was in a hurry to get the door. “Good evening, Sir. What can I do for you?”
If this is Angel’s mother, there is no likeness between the two of them. “Hello. Is this the house of Angelina McFarland?”
“It is, Sir.”
It’s hard to keep my face straight and from beaming when my heart does a double-somersault.
“But I’m afraid you’re calling in an inappropriate moment,” the woman continues. “Miss Angelina has gone out with her parents and her sisters.”
Ah, not her mother but the housekeeper then. I make an effort to sound like a gentleman and less like a pirate. “You must be Miss Lynda.” She smiles at my recognizing her. “Can you tell me when they’ll be back?”
“Not before late at night, I fear. Maybe it is best for you to call on the young lady again tomorrow.”
“Yes, maybe.” Not. “Good night, Ma’am.” I nod at her and walk down the path to the street then cast a brief look back, but the door has already closed. Ducking under the trees, I sneak into the garden and signal Smee with a double jerk on the rope that they can pull me up.
“Did you see her?” Jack asks, his voice excited, as he hauls me over the railing.
“No. Just the housekeeper. Angel is out with her family. They won’t be back until later.” Time to come up with a plan. If she returns with her parents at night, they might not be too happy if I ring the bell again and then just steal Angel out of their house. But I don’t have time to wait until tomorrow, especially when I can’t meet her during the day. It has to be tonight.
“So, what’s your plan?”
“There should be a way to lure her outside after they return. Secretly…” Taking off my funny hat, I toss it at Smee’s chest and smirk. “That’s it!” He scrunches up his face in wonder, but I ignore him and call up to the crow’s nest, “Ravi, keep an eye out for Angel. Let me know when she and her family return.”
“What are you up to, James?” Smee demands, following me to my quarters.
“I’m going to slip her a note.” Oh, the brilliance of me. “I’ll ask her to come out to her balcony”—the one she fell off from when she came to Neverland for the first time—“and meet me there. No one but her has to know.”
Smee slowly wobbles his head like he’s testing my plan. “Might work.”
“It will!” I dash into my study and find a blank piece of paper in the top drawer. After I scribbled the words Meet me on your balcony at the bottom, I tear the strip off and pocket it. Now all I can do is waiting for Angel to come back.
As I slump over the railing and scan the street below for any movement, minutes turn into hours. So close, and still there’s no way to tell when we’ll be meeting again. It’s gnawing at my patience, the longing for Angel uncomfortably burning in my chest. Then Ravi shouts down to me, “Cap’n! Someone’s walking around the corner down the street!”
In an instant, I straighten, holding my breath, and lean farther out to see what he saw. The people strolling up the walkway are too far away. The only thing certain is that there are five of them. “Ravi, give me the spyglass.”
Bull’s Eye Ravi drops the metal tube from the top of the mast. Smoothly catching it, I deploy the spyglass and lift it to my eye. A wild rhythm takes over my heartbeat the moment I see Angel. She’s walking a few steps behind a couple where the man is carrying a child sleeping on his shoulder. Another child, an identical one, holds on to Angel’s hand. There’s no way to tell which of the girls is Paulina and which is Brittney Renae. And right now, I couldn’t care less. My gaze is stuck on Angel. She makes me draw in the relieving breath I was waiting for to come for so long.
Anticipation foams over. I grip the rope and turn a bright smile at Smee. “Let me down. Quick!”
Smee knows better than to hesitate. Silently, I glide through the dark until my feet touch ground behind Angel’s house. As fast as possible, I dash through the bushes and duck under the trees then jump out over the fence. A constant tingle in my limbs makes me aware of just how close I’m to the girl I love. Only a few more steps and they’ll reach the gate to their front garden. It’s time. It’s time. I step away from the shadows and walk toward the family.
Angel’s father and mother don’t pay me any attention as they sidestep me. I keep my chin dipped low, so the fancy brim of this hat covers my face. Whatever Angel’s reaction is to seeing me—whether she recognizes me or believes I’m a total stranger—I want to save that for when I’m as close to her as possible. When her shadow moves into my vision, I lift my head.
Bang! All I see is her beautiful face, all I hear is the surprised intake of her breath when our eyes meet. She doesn’t smile or fling her arms around my neck. I was prepared for it from what Peter had told me. It doesn’t mean I hadn’t wished for it to happen anyway.
But now’s not the time to whine. I only have a couple of seconds to give her the note. Passing her very close, I slip the folded piece of paper into her hand. Instinctively, her fingers close around it. Soft and warm. Heck, how I want to stop and take that delicate hand of hers into mine. Hold it, feel it, kiss it. Being so close to her makes me feel all these hard emotions that I can barely control. But I have to. For now.
Not even slowing down, I keep walking straight ahead. Only when I notice that the clacking of her sandals on the pavement has stopped, I slide a glance over my shoulder. She’s staring back at me. Surprised and fascinated. One corner of my lips curves up. Read the note, I want to mouth at her, but it’s not necessary. I know she will as soon as I’m out of sight. So I keep walking.
Three minutes should be enough for Angel to read the note, catch up with her parents and walk into her house. It takes me this long to head down the street and round the block to finally enter their garden from the backside again. Up in a tree with a
perfect view of the only two balconies, I hide out until light comes on in both rooms.
Through the sheer curtains behind the door on the right balcony, I see the mother tucking in one of the twins. Angel follows and sits on her bedside for a moment, kissing the small girl on the cheek. This was all I had to know. My aim is the other room.
Angelina
AFTER I SAID goodnight to the twins, I finally head into my own room and close the door. My parents went to bed as well. They won’t get up until early in the morning and if they do, none of them will come to my room. They never do. Still, tonight I lock the door.
My heart races like that of a frightened rabbit, only I’m not frightened at all. Just curious. And more than a little excited. Who was this guy? Why this note? There’s no chance I know him, can’t recall his face from school or even recognize him as the son of any of my father’s business partners. To me, he’s a total stranger.
Yet he looked at me like we knew each other.
I unbuckle my white sandals and kick them off not to make a sound on the balcony, then I smooth my dark blue dress with tiny daisies on it and move the straps perfectly into place. Thrills zip through me as I open the French doors and slip outside.
Without my coat, it takes only seconds until goosebumps rise on my bare skin. At late May, the nights are still a little chilly. Rubbing my upper arms, I pad across the cold balcony, brace my hands on the balustrade and lean over. There’s no one waiting for me beneath. On tiptoes, I try to overlook the entire garden, scanning for a face in the dark. Nothing. Did I get this wrong? Maybe he didn’t mean tonight. Or he meant it, but later. On a sigh, some of the excitement that kept me in a stranglehold for the past fifteen minutes slips away from me.
And then something warm envelopes me from behind. The warmth of someone. Hands touch the sides of my shoulders. I gasp and jerk around.
The same guy who gave me the note in the street now stands only inches away from me. With my mouth dropped open and eyes wide like saucers, I stare at his shockingly handsome face. Deep blue eyes gaze back at me from under long fair lashes. Without his ball cap, his blond hair falls tousled over his forehead, accentuating boyish features under a man’s mask. A delighted smile pulls hard at the corners of his mouth, even though it looks like he’s giving his best to keep it under control.
