by Aiden Thomas
“But how can a shadow steal someone?” Wendy asked. “It’s just an absence of light!” Or something. Now that she thought about it, Wendy didn’t think she could concisely define what a shadow was. She’d never given it real thought.
“Well, yeah, your shadow couldn’t,” Peter told her. “All of you who live here, in this world, are lucky. Magic left this place so long ago that your shadows are weak and can’t escape. They can take over a normal person, though. Those dark thoughts can devour a person and take all of their happiness away. They want you to feel isolated and alone. It’s like they suck the energy out of you and leave you with nothing.”
Wendy thought of the years she spent crying at night, riddled with guilt and missing her brothers so much it was a physical ache. She thought of her father falling asleep at his desk with a bottle in his hand. Of her mother talking in her sleep.
“But my shadow?” Peter shook his head. “My whole existence is filled with magic. Neverland has kept it awake.”
“But what happened to me and my brothers?”
“When lost kids started disappearing, I realized it wasn’t safe for you to be in Neverland anymore, so I brought you back to your world.” Peter shifted back and forth. “I left you in the woods.”
“Just me?” said Wendy. “But what about my brothers? What happened to them?”
Peter spoke slowly, clearly thinking carefully about what words he spoke. “They couldn’t come back…” He trailed off.
“What—why?” If all this was true, and Peter had taken her back to protect her, then why hadn’t he brought her brothers back, too? A thought hit her. “The shadow? Did it kidnap them, like the other lost kids?” she asked.
Peter nodded silently.
“Then we have to get them back!” It wasn’t good news, but at least it was something she could work with. “Where did it take them?”
“I don’t know—I thought I would find them after I took you back,” Peter said, dismayed. “I thought if you returned to your world, maybe things would go back to normal, but it only got worse. I started growing up.” He visibly shivered. “I could feel the magic in me starting to drain away. I knew I needed to find my shadow—to stop it from taking kids and to get my magic back. I finally tracked it here. I think it was looking for you, since this all started happening when you came to Neverland.” Peter fixed her with a stare. “It’s the shadow that’s been kidnapping the kids in town,” Peter explained. “And I think it’s keeping them in the woods.”
The woods.
Even if it defied all logic—and physics, for that matter— it was still more of an answer to what had happened to her brothers than anyone else had given her.
“When you found me in the middle of the road, I had chased down my shadow. I almost caught it, but I couldn’t keep hold of it and I fell,” Peter told her.
Then he really had fallen out of the sky.
Wendy suddenly remembered what had made her veer off the road in the first place: the black mass. “I…” Wendy frowned, trying to make sense of everything. “Before I found you, something crashed onto the roof of my truck,” she explained slowly. “It was a black thing … It kind of looked like the shape of a person, but it was dark, and sort of … see-through.”
“You saw it?” Peter asked, suddenly lighting up. “You saw my shadow?”
“I don’t know what I saw,” Wendy said quickly. “It could’ve been a bunch of things, really. But … if it is your shadow—and if all of this is real—then it still has John and Michael?” she asked.
Peter said nothing for a moment, but then he nodded.
Wendy let out a strained laugh and finally pulled away from Peter’s grasp. She ran her fingers through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. “This can’t be real!”
“Wendy.” Something caught his eye behind her and he spoke quickly. “You have to believe me,” he said, catching her wrists in his hands.
“But how can I believe anything you’re saying? Everything you’ve told me is impossible!” Wendy told him. Her head swam with overwhelming desperation. She wanted to believe him, to believe that all of this was possible and real, that he knew where her brothers were. That she could get them back.
Peter let out a frustrated growl. He leaned closer and looked into her eyes. Wendy held her breath. “You’ve gotta help me, or else kids are just going to keep going missing,” Peter said.
“Wendy?”
She whirled around as Jordan stepped through the door to the courtyard.
Jordan had a Dutch Bros coffee cup in her hand and she was chewing on the bright green straw. She gave Wendy a strange look. “You okay?” she asked as she crossed the pavement.
“What?” Wendy looked back to where Peter had been standing, but he was gone. She twisted to look around.
“I said,” Jordan repeated with an apprehensive laugh, “are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost or something.” She was dressed in scrubs and had her lanyard around her neck. Jordan always got coffee before volunteering and had the disgusting habit of drinking one cup over the entire day until it was cold. Her shift must’ve just ended.
“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine,” Wendy stammered. Where had he gone? There was only one door in and out of the courtyard, and Jordan was blocking it.
“Who was that guy you were talking to?” Jordan asked.
Wendy had to stop herself from saying, You saw him? “Um … what guy? I wasn’t talking to anyone,” she said.
“I thought I saw a guy out here with you,” Jordan said as she looked around. “Wait—” Jordan sucked in a dramatic gasp. Her lips quirked into a devilish smile. “You weren’t having a secret rendezvous, were you?”
“I—uh…”
“Wendy Darling, you are turning RED!” She laughed.
“What!” Wendy squeaked. “No—I—no, I wasn’t talking to anyone. I just needed some fresh air.” Wendy tugged on the neck of her shirt, her skin quickly getting hot and sweaty.
“Uh-huh, suuuure.” Jordan slurped down the last of her coffee through the twisted straw. “Whatever, I’ll get it out of you eventually.” She gave Wendy a pointed look. “You’re a terrible liar.”
The best option was to distract. “Wait, what are you doing here?”
Jordan’s eyebrow arched. “Looking for you so we can go to dinner! Like we do every Wednesday after our volunteer hours.”
“Oh, right.” Wendy’s brain was completely jumbled. She could barely focus on anything other than what Peter had told her.
“Hey, are you sure you’re all right?” Jordan’s tone was serious now. She placed a hand on Wendy’s shoulder. “You don’t look so good. Maybe we should have one of the doctors check you out?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Wendy wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and stepped away from Jordan’s hand. “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night,” she said. “You know, after everything that happened…” Wendy trailed off.
Jordan gave her a little smile, the poor Wendy smile. Luckily, Jordan knew when to take a step back and not push. “Let’s get you out of here, then,” she said. “We can stop at Coffee Girl and grab some food.” She held the door open.
Before she walked through, Wendy looked up. She half expected to see Peter there, maybe hovering beneath the clouds. But all she saw was a white bird flying across the blue sky.
CHAPTER 10
The Shadow
They spent a couple of hours at Coffee Girl. It was a cozy café out on a tiny pier from the main Astoria Riverwalk. When she wasn’t volunteering at the hospital, Jordan spent most of her time working at the café. She was determined to save up as much money as possible before they started at the University of Oregon in the fall.
Inside the café, the walls were painted orange and the tables and chairs were all mismatched. A small teapot with a succulent inside propped up the menu on their table. They sat in the back at one of the many windows that looked out over the river. String lights adorned the walls an
d windows all year round. Wendy could hear the faint barking of seals in the distance.
She’d only taken a few bites of her sandwich, and her cup of tea was doing little to settle the twisty feeling in her stomach. Wendy was exhausted and not up for making small talk and pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t okay, and she wasn’t okay.
Luckily, Jordan spent most of the time talking through mouthfuls of turkey panini about an intramural swim team she was on for the summer, her mental shopping list for moving into the dorms, and the latest horror movie she and Tyler had seen. Wendy traced her finger along the Coffee Girl logo on her mug—a profile of a woman sipping from a cup—and stared out the large window facing the Columbia River.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jordan asked again when they were in her car, driving back toward the hospital so Wendy could pick up her truck. Wendy had been watching the shipping liners travel down the river, when Jordan’s question pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her temples. She was tired and it made her prickle with fatigue and annoyance.
But Jordan was well trained in the art of reading Wendy Moira Angela Darling. “Well, you haven’t actually made eye contact with me since we left the hospital earlier,” she started to count off on one hand, guiding the steering wheel with the other. “All you’ve said to me is a variety of yeah s, hmms, and oh s.” Her eyebrows set in a hard line.
Wendy wasn’t used to seeing Jordan get upset like this. Usually when she closed up, Jordan was gentle and didn’t push her too far. Jordan was frustrated with her.
“You hardly ate anything, and you keep pulling on your hair, which you only do when you’re upset.”
Wendy’s fingers were halfway through her hair. She stopped and dropped her hands in her lap.
Wendy looked over. Jordan’s eyebrows were raised expectantly.
Jordan was the one person who she felt she could really trust in the world. She had never judged Wendy or believed the gossip when it spread through town. Jordan was Wendy’s first line of defense, the only one who stood up for her when even her parents backed away.
Jordan was the only one Wendy felt she could talk to about the things that haunted her: her brothers, the woods, and her parents. But the events of the last two days were in a whole other realm. How was she supposed to tell Jordan about Peter? If she said that he had showed up in her backyard and then at the children’s wing of the hospital, Jordan would probably freak out. Any sane person would. Jordan would just see him as some guy who’d escaped from the hospital and who the cops were looking for.
And the crappy part was that when she thought of it that way, those were perfectly logical reasons to be scared of Peter. Or at the very least wary.
And what about everything else Peter had said? What would Jordan say if Wendy told her Peter claimed to be the Peter Pan? Or that his shadow had gone missing and was kidnapping kids? Or what about the fact that she was actually starting to believe him? Wendy almost laughed.
There was no way Jordan would believe her. Wendy was alone in this.
“Wendy?” Jordan looked genuinely concerned now as she tried to get a proper look at Wendy while still keeping an eye on the road. Wendy knew if she didn’t reassure her soon, Jordan might crash the car. Or worse, say something to her parents.
“Do you ever…” Wendy cleared her throat to find her voice. “Do you ever wonder if there’s … more to the world than we know?”
Jordan pulled up into the hospital parking lot near her truck and put the car in park. She twisted in her seat to face Wendy and canted her head to the side. “Like what? Aliens?”
“No, not aliens—”
“’Cause I definitely believe in aliens.”
Wendy fixed her with a withering look.
“All that space and unexplored planets up there?” Jordan went on, waving her hand through the air. “You can’t tell me there’s no other life out there—”
“No, not like aliens,” Wendy cut her off, feeling frustrated.
Jordan’s laugh died off.
“Like magic,” she finally said, fiddling with the strap of her bag.
Jordan’s expression pinched in confusion. “Like…?”
“Like fairy tales and stuff,” Wendy said, saying the words before she could chicken out.
“Like Peter Pan?” Jordan guessed.
Wendy sat up straight. “Yes!”
Jordan’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline.
Wendy cleared her throat. “I’ve just been thinking about it a lot, I guess,” she confessed, raking her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been drawing pictures of him, and other weird stuff—without even realizing I’m doing it,” Wendy tried to explain.
Jordan nodded along, but she looked far from understanding.
“And I’ve been having weird dreams, too.” Wendy’s cheeks burned as she stared down at her hands. “It’s just been making me wonder if magic is real, if Neverland could exist.” She licked her lips. “If Peter Pan could be real.”
For a moment, they both said nothing. Somewhere down the street, a dog barked.
“Wow.” Jordan let out a small, awkward laugh. “It sounds like your imagination is really running rampant, huh?” She smiled, but it was forced. “Giving you these wild dreams and…”
Disappointment slumped Wendy’s shoulders.
“Hey.” Jordan gently touched Wendy’s arm. Worry was written across her best friend’s face. “What’s going on with you?”
Of course Jordan wouldn’t believe something that sounded so impossible. Wendy wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed.
“It’s nothing, really,” Wendy said. “All these kids going missing is starting to get to me.” That was true enough. “And I’m not getting enough sleep.” She tried to force her lips up into a smile. “Like I said, I’m just really tired.”
Jordan didn’t look very convinced, but her expression softened. The way she chewed on her bottom lip made Wendy think she was going to press further, but after a moment she just let out a heavy sigh. “Okay…” Then more resolutely, “Okay.”
Jordan cut the engine. Without the air conditioner running, the car quickly grew hot under the afternoon sun. Sweat immediately prickled on the small of Wendy’s back.
“Go home and go to bed early tonight,” Jordan said. She gave Wendy a small smile and crinkled her nose. “Drink some of that nasty chamomile tea you like so much.”
“Okay, Mom,” Wendy said, trying to follow suit and ease the tension. She slung her bag over her shoulder and got out of the car.
“You’re not funny,” Jordan called after her. It lacked her usual ring of humor. Jordan didn’t leave until Wendy was in her truck and the engine had roared to life.
Wendy gripped the steering wheel, the leather hot and sticky under her palms. She was parked at just the right angle so the sun glinted in the scratches left on her windshield.
Wendy took the long way home.
The front door was unlocked. Wendy’s mom’s car was gone, but her father’s waited in the driveway. She walked into the living room and found him sitting on the couch. His head was tilted back and snores rumbled from under his bushy mustache. The local news was on the television. Benjamin Lane and Ashley Ford smiled at her from the screen.
Wendy turned away and went into the kitchen. The guilt and fear were starting to harden into anger. If what Peter had said was true, then they needed to do something.
She tossed her bag on the counter, turned on the faucet, and rinsed off the dishes in the sink. There were mostly coffee mugs, one with a tea bag still in it from her mom’s usual pre-work cup.
As she scrubbed at a dirty pot, Wendy tried to figure out how she would even find Peter. Yes, he was hiding out at a hunting shack in the woods, but where? Even if she did know the location, there was no way in hell she could force herself to go searching through the woods on her own, even in broad daylight. Her heart pounded erratically just thinking about it.
Luckily, Peter seemed to pop up out of nowhere, so maybe she didn’t need to go find him—maybe he’d just show up. Wendy turned off the faucet and gazed at the glass doors that led to the backyard, half expecting to see him standing there. She tried not to think about how creepy it was that he could find her so easily in the first place.
Although, he’d given no real reason to be afraid of him, had he? He certainly wasn’t intimidating. There was no way someone with that much happy energy was dangerous. Someone who smiled like that—with complete abandon and not an ounce of self-consciousness—couldn’t be insidious.
Frowning, Wendy dried her hands on a dish towel. What now? It was dark out but too early to try to go to sleep, even with Jordan’s orders. She couldn’t watch something on TV because she wanted to leave her father undisturbed. There was no way she could concentrate enough to read a book. Maybe more chores were the solution.
There was her swim bag that needed to be cleaned out, still shoved under the passenger seat of her truck. She wasn’t part of a summer team like Jordan, so it had been abandoned. The only use it’d gotten this summer was as a trash receptacle for the dozens of crumpled-up drawings Wendy had hidden. She really needed to practice and get some laps in at the aquatic center so she’d be ready to try out for the college swim team in the fall. Maybe having a fresh towel and clean suit would give her the motivation.
Careful not to wake up her father, Wendy snuck out the front door to where her truck was parked in the driveway. She opened the passenger-side door and leaned down to pick up her purple duffel bag when the streetlight in front of her house went out soundlessly. Wendy yanked her bag out of the truck and stood up. Everything plunged into darkness. Even the streetlight from across the road didn’t seem to reach very far.
