Lost in the Never Woods

by Aiden Thomas

  As she turned to the table where Alex was sitting, Wendy saw that he wasn’t alone anymore.

  Peter sat next to Alex, who was perched on the edge of his seat, peering into Peter’s cupped hands. He was in a pair of nurse scrubs and had a satisfied grin plastered across his face. Alex’s jaw was slack, those big brown eyes of his wide.

  Wendy stumbled over beanbags and dodged running kids.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped, jerking her head back and forth to see if anyone had noticed him. There were a couple of parents and a nurse in the room, but, for some reason, no one even glanced in their direction. Which was odd, considering all the stares Wendy had been earning. Her pulse thudded with panic. If someone recognized him, she was going to be in so much trouble. How the hell would she even begin explaining herself? And Peter?

  Alex jumped, but Peter looked up at her with a smile, as if all of this were completely normal and he broke into hospitals regularly. Cupped in Peter’s hands was a simple but delicate shark folded out of blue construction paper. “Hi,” he greeted cheerily.

  “Where did you get those?” she asked, gesturing at the blue scrubs.

  “I found them,” he replied, vaguely waving his hand.

  “What are you doing here?” Wendy repeated, annoyed at how calm and nonchalant he was. She had thought it was going to be impossible to find him again, but here he was, sitting and making origami.

  “I came to listen to you tell stories,” he said simply before turning back to Alex. The small boy was now staring intently at the paper shark as he poked it with a finger. “That was a pretty good one, but mermaids are usually the ones bugging the sharks,” Peter continued.

  Wendy scoffed. Now was not the time for him to critique her storytelling.

  “They can be really mean. Don’t you remember the mermaid who tried to drown you?” Peter asked, finally sparing her a glance.

  “What?” Wendy asked, incredulous. “No—”

  “Hmm, well, that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, nodding.

  She wanted to shove him out of his chair. “Alex, why don’t you go play with the others for a bit?” Wendy suggested. She needed to get Peter out of here unseen. Or, unseen by anyone else.

  “It was swimming!” Alex exclaimed, pointing at the paper shark.

  Wendy frowned. “Swimming?”

  “Yeah, he made it swim!” Alex insisted.

  Peter smirked, looking quite pleased with himself as he leaned back in his chair. “You can keep it if you’d like,” he told Alex. He placed his creation into the little boy’s hand.

  Alex put it on the table and stared at it so intently, Wendy thought the strain might damage his eyes.

  “What does he mean, you ‘made it swim’? Wait, no.” Wendy held up her palm, cutting off Peter before he could answer. She would not let him distract her from the matter at hand. “How did you get in here? Where did you get those?” Wendy demanded through gritted teeth, pointing at the blue scrubs he wore.

  Peter shrugged. “I found a stack of them in the hallway,” he said, tugging at the collar of the shirt.

  Wendy rubbed her palm against her forehead, letting out a small growl. She had spent all morning wondering how she was going to track down Peter. Now that he’d just apparently waltzed into the hospital, she had no idea what to do with him. What she did know, however, was that if someone recognized him, and saw her with him, they were screwed.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said, casting a nervous look around the room. “We need to get out of here before someone notices you.” It seemed wrong to hide him from the people at the hospital, or the police who were looking for him, but she had her own questions that needed answers before anyone else got hold of him.

  Rachel collided into Wendy again and tugged on the hem of her shirt. “Miss Wendy!” she whined. “Tell us another story!”

  “Not right now, Rachel,” Wendy said. She tried to get herself free of the little girl’s vicelike grip. “Me and my friend here need to go talk.” She gave Peter a pointed look and jerked her head toward the door.

  Rachel whirled around to look at Peter, apparently just having noticed him. “Hello,” he said to her with a smile.

  Wendy had never witnessed Rachel being as quiet as she was in the following moments.

  Rachel studied Peter carefully, her eyebrows pulled together in concentration. Peter seemed completely unfazed. Wendy just stood there as the silence stretched out, long and awkward.

  Wendy was about to ask Rachel if she was feeling all right when a big, gap-toothed smile broke across her face. “PETER!” she all but squealed, launching herself onto him.

  “Rachel, no!” Wendy tried to pull her off, but Rachel kept wiggling free and grabbing hold of Peter’s shirt in her little hands.

  Peter laughed, loud and bright.

  “Wendy, it’s Peter Pan! You’re friends with Peter Pan?” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “Ooh, I knew you were real!” she told him as she yanked on his arm.

  “See? Rachel here knows who I am,” Peter said with a smug look.

  Wendy had to fight the urge to drag him out of there by his ear. She pointed a finger at him. “Not helping!” They were going to draw someone’s attention. “Rachel, that’s not Peter Pan. Peter Pan isn’t real—he’s just make-believe.” Though, she wasn’t convinced of that anymore.

  The wounded look on his face almost made her regret saying it, but they really didn’t have time for this right now!

  Regardless, Rachel wasn’t buying it. “Of course he’s real!” she said. She jerked her arm free from Wendy and squished Peter’s cheeks between her small hands. “See?”

  Yes, she did see it. It was hard to not laugh at his smooshed face, but she did see it. The eyes, the chipped tooth, and the auburn hair. It was all there, whether she would openly admit it or not.

  “He’s a bit old,” Rachel went on, as if this were a count against him. “But it’s still him. You can see it right there in his eyes!” she said, pointing. “And his mouth.” She poked his bottom lip. “And see, that’s the scar he got from fighting Captain Crash McCreevy!” She pointed to a V-shaped scar on his upper arm. The mention of Captain Crash McCreevy reminded Wendy of the Peter Pan story she’d told at least a dozen times. It was about a crazy old pirate captain who wanted to steal all the tiger cubs to make a blanket, until Peter challenged him to a harrowing duel. In the story, Captain Crash McCreevy fought Peter Pan with the nose of a swordfish that left a V-shaped cut in Peter’s arm.

  The evidence sent Rachel into another bout of wiggly excitement. “It’s Peter Pan!”

  “She makes valid points,” Peter confirmed, nodding his head.

  “But, Peter, why are you so old?” Rachel asked, the smile on her face dimming with concern.

  “Well, that’s something I’ve been trying to talk to Wendy about, but she seems to be having trouble believing me,” he told her.

  Rachel gave Wendy an accusatory look.

  Wendy scowled. The last thing she needed was Rachel telling everyone she’d met Peter Pan. But, apparently, Peter was already two steps ahead of her.

  “Can you do me a favor, Rachel?” Peter asked as he leaned closer to her. Rachel nodded vigorously. “You can’t tell any adults I’m here, or I might get in trouble, okay? It needs to be a secret between the three of us—oh, and Alex here,” he added, nodding to Alex, who was still staring unblinkingly at the paper shark.

  Rachel nodded solemnly. “I won’t. I promise. Will you come back and visit us again soon?”

  “Yes—”

  “No!” Wendy cut in, finally pulling Rachel away from Peter. “We need to talk now, Rachel. Go play with Alex.”

  Peter stood up and mussed the top of Rachel’s already frizzy hair.

  “Bye, Peter!” Rachel said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a hug before sliding into the seat next to Alex.

  Wendy glared at Peter. “Let’s go,” she growled.

  As she led Pe
ter to the door, she overheard Alex tell Rachel, “He made it float!”

  “Well, yeah, he’s Peter Pan!” Rachel replied.

  Wendy walked as fast as she could down the hallway, dragging Peter along behind her, her hand clasped around his wrist. She kept looking around, paranoid that someone would spot them and Wendy would somehow get in trouble. She pulled him down the stairway and crossed the lobby to a glass door that opened up into an empty courtyard.

  When she spun to face him, he had a very amused look on his face. Both of his eyebrows were raised and the right side of his lips twitched as he suppressed a grin.

  It did nothing to improve her mood.

  “How the hell did you even get in here without anyone stopping you?” she asked. There was a front desk on every floor of the hospital and every visitor was required to check in and wear a visitor’s pass, even if he was in scrubs. “How come no one noticed you?” He didn’t exactly blend in. There was something about Peter that was decidedly … otherworldly, for lack of a better term. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but it was a sort of aura he gave off.

  Aura? Wendy pinched the bridge of her nose. What was she even thinking?

  “Because I didn’t want them to notice me,” Peter said, as if this were a very obvious answer to a very dumb question. “I can get past adults easy—they don’t pay much attention to begin with, anyway. But I can get by anyone without them seeing me, you know that,” Peter added with a laugh.

  “No I don’t. I don’t even know you!” Wendy shot back, her eyes darting back to the door. She said it, but she could hear her own doubt in her words.

  Peter groaned and threw his head back. “Are we really still playing this game?” he asked. He stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “It’s me, Peter—you know me, Wendy! I’m real, Neverland is real. You just forgot about me—that’s what happens when you grow up!”

  His tone surprised her—it was nearly pleading.

  “You’ve got to remember something,” he pressed, catching hold of her elbow.

  “I can’t remember!” Wendy shot back, wrenching her arm free. She was sick of people saying that to her over and over again. “I can’t remember anything!”

  Peter’s shoulders slumped.

  Though, that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

  “I mean…” Wendy swallowed hard. “I had a dream last night. Maybe—maybe a memory.” Lord help her, was she really admitting this?

  Peter perked up. “You did?”

  Wendy nodded. “About you.” She felt breathless. “And me. And Neverland.”

  A smile broke across Peter’s face, bright and immediate and all-consuming. It hit her in the chest. “Then you do remember!”

  But Wendy wasn’t so ready to accept it. “If you’re really Peter Pan, you should be able to fly, and you’re supposed to be a child,” she added. “The whole point of Peter Pan’s existence is that he never grows up, right?” Wendy couldn’t believe that she was actually arguing the logistics.

  “Yeah, well.” Peter scuffed his foot against the ground. “Those things are sort of part of the problem. For some reason I’m getting older—and fast.” He looked genuinely worried. Ever since Wendy had first met him the other night, she had only seen him as grinning and cocky, if a bit delusional. But now he couldn’t stand still and kept fidgeting with his hands. “My flying has gotten all messed up since my shadow left,” Peter added, gesturing to his feet.

  Sure enough, while Wendy’s shadow pooled on the cement below her, there was still nothing beneath Peter, just like last night. Wendy exhaled a laugh. “This is ridiculous.”

  “If we don’t find my shadow, more kids are going to go missing,” Peter blurted out impatiently.

  “What?” she asked incredulously. “What are you talking about?” The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. “Wait—do you know what happened to those missing kids?” Her hand pointed in the general direction of the rec room where, presumably, the news coverage was still rolling.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Peter said, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I’m the one who is supposed to find and help lost kids, like in the stories, right?” Wendy nodded. “But ever since I found you and your brothers in the woods—”

  Wendy felt like she had just been slapped across her face. The casual mention of her brothers was violent and jarring. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and her heart leapt into her throat.

  Apparently Peter didn’t notice, because he continued on.

  “Everything has been so messed up.”

  Wendy felt like she was drowning in his words. It was too much, too fast. She didn’t feel very brave anymore, and she couldn’t maintain her look of skepticism. The wave of nausea washing over her was the same one she felt every time someone mentioned her brothers. “What?” she breathed.

  Peter’s face became very serious. “That day, you, John, and Michael came with me to Neverland. When everyone thought you went missing, you were with me.”

  “I— How—” Wendy struggled to find words. Under the panic and confusion, she couldn’t help feeling a flicker of hope about John and Michael. “You know about John and Michael?” she asked urgently.

  Peter winced and looked at the ground.

  She stepped toward him, pressing him for further explanation. “Have you seen them? Do you know where they are?” Peter’s few words sparked hope, a fleeting, dangerous thing.

  Just a moment ago Peter’s words had been coming out in a rush, but now he paused. “It’s a long story … It’s complicated. It would be easier if you could just remember—”

  “You have to tell me,” Wendy ordered, grabbing hold of his hand. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

  Peter’s ears tinged red. He took a deep breath. “Like I told you, I used to come by your house to listen to you tell stories about me. I would travel from Neverland looking for lost kids who needed my help,” he explained. “And I heard you telling my stories to your brothers once, so I listened in from outside the window—”

  “Right, the super-creepy window thing,” Wendy interrupted, dropping his hand.

  “I mean, yeah, but—” Peter scratched the back of his head, red blooming in his cheeks. “It was just to hear you tell stories about me! I would go back and retell them to the lost ones back at Neverland—it sounds a lot creepier than it was, I promise.”

  Wendy narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Anyway, we actually talked one night, when my shadow went missing for the first time.” He said it so casually. “And then, well … when you guys got lost in the woods.”

  Wendy’s heart hammered, demanding to be felt. For the past five years she had been wondering what had happened to her and her brothers. For years she’d had nothing and now the answers she had been looking for had fallen out of the sky. She didn’t know if it was out of desperation, but right now she wasn’t even questioning whether or not he was telling the truth. “Do you know what happened to us?” she choked out.

  Peter gave her that look. That same look everyone always gave her whenever her brothers were brought up: tipped eyebrows and a frown. The universal look of pity. She hated that look.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else and talk about this,” he said quietly.

  “No, you have to tell me now!” Wendy said, grabbing hold of his hand once again. She didn’t know if she could go another second without losing her mind, let alone wait long enough to relocate.

  “Okay, okay,” Peter said, motioning with his free hand for her to keep her voice down. “When I found you, you were in the middle of the woods. I—I don’t know what happened before that.” He hesitated for a moment. “But it was almost dark and you were scared, so I took you back with me to Neverland.”

  “Neverland, as in the magical island in the sky, from the stories?” Wendy asked. She was still struggling to accept all of this, but, more importantly, she wanted him to tell her the rest.

  Peter squinted. “I guess that’s th
e easiest way to describe it, yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you take us home?”

  Another long pause. “I … You didn’t want to go home, you wanted to go with me,” Peter said with a small shrug.

  If it weren’t so impossible, it would almost make sense. One of the last things Wendy remembered before the gaping hole in her memory was how, right before she and her brothers went missing, she had gotten into a fight with her father. He’d wanted her to move out of her shared room with her brothers and into her own room. He had told her that it was time for her to grow up and that she couldn’t keep playing make-believe with her brothers all the time.

  Wendy remembered being so mad at her father. She knew he thought that was why they’d gone missing, that they had run away because he was splitting them up.

  But what about Nana? She had run off into the woods and they had chased her. Wendy remembered that part.

  “Having you come to Neverland was great,” Peter continued, quieter. Wendy was very aware of how close he was, the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers. “We went on adventures, you guys got to meet the other Lost Ones, and I got to listen to you tell stories all the time.” He gave her a weak smile, but it quickly faded. “But then a bunch of weird stuff started happening. First, it was just little things. The fairies started getting spooked—they wouldn’t come out and play with us at night anymore. They all hid in the trees. I tried to talk to them, but they wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, like they were too scared to or something.”

  Wendy found herself nodding along.

  “After you guys came to the island, all of a sudden it started to get harder for me to fly, which had never happened before. The longer you were there, the worse it got. It was like I couldn’t control it anymore. Then, one night, I woke up and my shadow was gone.”

  He stopped. Clearly he was expecting some sort of big reaction from her, but Wendy didn’t say a word. She was too busy trying to comprehend it—the magic, the fairies, and Neverland.

  When she didn’t respond, Peter sighed heavily. “There’s a reason shadows are supposed to be attached to people. They’re dark, wicked things,” he explained. “Not like fairies, who cause trouble because it’s fun. Shadows are made up of all the dark and bad parts of yourself. They feed off of bad thoughts—fear, worry, sadness, and guilt.” Peter dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “When you start getting consumed by those feelings, it gives the shadow power over you. If it gets strong enough, it can run off and do terrible things. Especially my shadow,” he said. “And when mine got away, it started stealing lost kids.”