Rosemary hunkered back down under the blanket and mumbled. Gwen answered, “You have a good time?”
An affirmative mumble and happy nod served as answer. Her eyes closed, Rosemary then asked, “Gwen?”
“Yes?”
Secure in her decision and confident in her desires in a way Gwen would never be, Rosemary peacefully said, “I’m going to stay in Neverland.”
It was hard to say whether their meeting with the redskins was the emotional highpoint or emotional low point of Gwen’s time in Neverland. The adventure of seeking them out had been so enjoyable, but the joy of it had dissolved into the dusk, confronting Gwen with make-believe realities, which suddenly had a tremendous and surreal bearing on her real life.
The days blended together for Gwen. Every new day brought unique adventures and a constant stream of activity. There were sword-fighting competitions, pilgrimages to the Neverbird’s nest, and daily flights up to the treetops to scan the horizon for approaching ships and seafaring pirates. Despite this, the evenings had a comforting routineness to them, and it was hard for Gwen to gauge how many days and nights had really slipped by. There were no calendars, no clocks, and no cares in Neverland. Gwen found herself losing time like she lost socks in the laundry. It had to go somewhere, and yet, there was only ever the present moment. How long had she been in Neverland? A week, two? A month? The distinction hardly mattered, and Gwen excused her ignorance by promising herself she would leave when the time came for flying home.
A deep-seated sense of melancholy stayed with her, and the other children could only tempt her so far out of it with any given game. On her last day in Neverland—the day before Peter would fly back to meet the aviator and find the mysterious piper—Gwen woke up in the premature morning. Unwilling to remain in bed listening to her sister breathe and Sal squirm at the other end of the bed, she snuck out of the underground home to find a little solitude. Even Peter was still sleeping at that point, sprawled out in his hammock high above everyone and well beneath everything.
Gwen had mastered the art of escalating out of the wide, old oak, breathing in sharply to propel herself up to the hole at the top of the trunk. For as much as she had resisted Neverland, in a very short time, she had learned its ways well. Although Gwen had never seriously considered the possibility, on this final day in Neverland, there was a very real suspicion in the back of her mind that her motive for coming with Peter was out of childish and whimsical self-interest, not concern for her little sister’s well-being.
Now she lazed in the grove, lying on her back and fiddling with the strap of her satchel bag. She didn’t want to be found by the others when they woke up, but she also didn’t want to lose herself exploring for a more private place. Consequently, she had resolved to work quickly through her existential crisis.
Putting a time frame on solving her philosophical dilemma was anything but helpful. In an attempt to make it easier on herself, she tried not to think about the internal dread she had regarding her future, and focused instead on Rosemary.
Her sister had become convinced, unshakably convinced, that she needed to remain in Neverland. Gwen had come with the intent of wooing her back to reality, but the last threads of that hope had vanished following their meeting with Old Willow. Rosemary would not be talked out of it; not in a day’s time, not in a week’s time… not in a month’s time. Gwen faced her reality with shaking bones and an unsteady heart—she was going to have to return home without her sister.
There was no way to drag her back by force, so Gwen did not have to consider the issue of whether she would resort to that. Rosemary would have to fly home in her own time, and Gwen would have to trust that, in the meantime, all would be well. There was still an ember of hope glowing within her that Rosemary would break down when she saw Gwen preparing to leave, and she would choose to go with her out of the same love that had compelled Gwen to chase her to Neverland. Even so, she wasn’t going to bet on it.
Gwen briefly debated staying longer, knowing that if she left Rosemary here alone, she would go native in much more totality than if her older sister remained present. If she remained, she might be able to eventually shepherd Rosemary home a little sooner, but Gwen dared not remain in Neverland. Staying for Rosemary’s sake would come at too deep a personal cost.
There was little that Gwen was certain of, but she knew this—she could not remain in Neverland. Writhing in the grass, trying to dissolve into the ground, Gwen wanted to slink away from the part of her that desperately wanted to stay. Some aspect of herself that had never felt so relieved, so at peace, so at home, was screaming that she should remain, and Gwen knew that any desire that screamed so senselessly was not to be trusted or indulged.
She couldn’t stay and watch over Rosemary because she knew Neverland would adopt her as well, and then the both of them would consign their future for their place in paradise. Gwen had to get out while she still had the will to do so. Someday, the reason would occur to her and this decision would make sense. She had to trust that all the adults she knew had made the same choice, and she would one day look back on this week as a happy vacation, a reminder of the possibilities.
When I am older, it will make sense.
But Gwen knew that was a lie. The older people grew, the less sense the world made to them. They buried themselves under invented complexities and self-imposed ambiguities. Staying made sense because it used the sensible arguments of a child’s logic. Leaving never would, and yet Gwen would always be able to justify it with a vague and dreamy notion that it was the right thing to do.
Gwen found her mind constantly wandering back to homecoming and Jay. When she wondered whether Jay had won the homecoming king nomination, it made her feel stranded in Neverland, away from everything. Neverland surrounded her with a constant sense and smell of spring, but Gwen missed Jay's smell of fresh-crushed charcoal. Had he asked someone to the dance while she was gone? And what about Claire and Katie? What if they had dates now too? What would it be like if her best friend was going with Michael Kooseman and she had to go just with Katie?
She sat up and began picking through a tiny patch of weeds, looking for a four-leafed clover. It was something to do, and Gwen thought it might distract her for a minute. Almost instantly, she came across one, something that she chalked up to the nature of Neverland. It was a pretty little keepsake, and Gwen hoped it might bring her some form of luck anyway.
Digging into her purse, Gwen shuffled through its contents to find the tiny notebook she could use to press the clover. The sunlight caught the beautiful glow of something else and her attention was diverted. Slipping the clover into the pocket of her beige dress instead, Gwen pulled Lasiandra’s gift out of the bottom of her satchel.
It was like abalone and sequins, glinting every color of an aquatic rainbow as it played with the sunlight. It reminded Gwen of a coin, a large, half-dollar coin. She wondered what she was meant to purchase with it.
As she slipped it back into her bag, she also found her compact mirror in the purse’s pocket.
Gwen glanced around, but not so much as a fairy was up and stirring at this hour of the morning. Did mermaids sleep at night the same as people did, or were they always busy, watching the night sky at those hours? If she went to the mermaid’s lagoon now, would the beautiful creatures be there? Peter had a standing invitation to return, but no such offer had been extended to Gwen, unless this token was evidence to the contrary. Did she really want to leave Neverland tomorrow without having seen Cynara and the others at least once more?
Enough of the morning had been given up to idle speculation and melancholy mysteries of the heart. Gwen was finally asking herself questions that had answers, and she knew where she could have them answered.
Gwen remembered the direction she had to go in order to reach the lagoon. She never doubted her navigational abilities. Much like flying, it took a certain confidence within the wanderer in order to avoid getting lost in the jungles of Neverland.
; On her way there, she bushwhacked noisily, tripped over roots, flew up into trees, and made all manner of noises. Gwen had forgotten how to be quiet in the past week. It was never necessary, and she was expected to be, like any child, noisy and full of ruckus. This wouldn’t have mattered, if she had not woken up Bramble. Away from his proper home, he had stumbled onto a squirrel’s secret stash of nuts in a small hollow last night. He’d eaten his fill of them and then some, only to pass out in the early hours of the night. He was easily awoken and recognized the gait of a lost child, who walked with more melodic steps than redskins or pirates ever did.
Pulling his leafy shirt back down over his swollen belly, Bramble waded through the nut shells he’d left in the wake of his private feast to see who was up and out so early. When he saw Gwen, he flew after her.
Gwen did not notice Bramble until he flitted into her peripheral vision. She recognized him by his orange glow, even if she could not make out his features. “Oh, hello, Bramble.”
He asked her where she was going, but of course, Gwen did not understand his fairy words. While the fairies were quick to learn English, they simply did not have the vocal capacities to speak it any more than humans could speak the fairy language. Bard and Blink knew a few fairy words, but only Peter could recognize their language well enough to reliably translate. All Gwen had discovered so far was how to tell the difference between their agreements and disagreements.
Guessing at his question, Gwen answered, “Peter and the others are still asleep in the underground home. I wanted to go for a walk when I woke up early.”
Bramble repeated his question, thinking it very unlikely that Gwen would simply take off in a random direction just because she wanted to go on a walk.
Gwen suspected that he was curious about just that, but she did not want to tell him where she was going. The fairies could be incurable gossips, and she didn’t want to have to talk to Peter or the others about the mermaids. The way they enchanted her…she felt criminal for indulging the desire to see them again. However, Peter had never told her not to visit them; he had only told her not to get too near or too close to them.
“I’m looking for a mango tree.” It was the truth; it just wasn’t the whole truth. Gwen didn’t want to show up without land fruit, and she knew at least Lasiandra liked mangoes best. Bramble buzzed happily at this announcement, and Gwen took it as a sign that he would help her search, and perhaps be distracted enough by breakfast that she could lose him.
Sure enough, Bramble was quick to spot a mango tree that sported voluptuous orange and green fruits. They hung pendulously from the branches, and he immediately flew to them to catch Gwen’s attention. She stood directly under the high tree, so Bramble pulled and tugged at the ripest of the fruits until one of them dropped down to the girl. She sprung to catch it and just barely managed. Bramble loosened another two for her before rubbing his palms together in eager desire for his breakfast. He began gnawing immediately on a juicy mango, still attached to its branch, and didn’t concern himself with Gwen as she wandered away.
Mangoes tucked into her satchel, Gwen finished trekking to the edge of the jungle, descending the stony steps of the cliff’s face to the aquamarine lagoon below. She did not see the swirling shadows of the mermaids this time though, and she questioned whether she would see them. Gwen didn’t want to hike all the way down the cliff for nothing, but she didn’t want to risk missing an encounter with the mermaids either.
Everything as it was before, Gwen picked up some pebbles from the shore and climbed out on the smooth, grey rocks to sit on the very same boulder Peter had first led her to. She made herself as comfortable as possible before she began plinking the pebbles into the water, one at a time.
At first, she waited long intervals between pebbles. She tossed them in different directions, hoping that one of them would catch the eyes or ears of some mermaid. She chucked the last few farther and more hurriedly, losing patience after the first few minutes. Still, she sat pensively a moment more before resigning herself to the fact that none of the sea-dwellers were coming to see her.
She wandered back, but lingered at the shoreline. Feeling around in her purse for the majestic token Lasiandra had left her, Gwen pulled it out and examined it. What did it signify? Why had Lasiandra wanted to leave it behind for Gwen? Not knowing the answer to these questions any more than she had known the solutions to her philosophical musings back in the grove, Gwen decided to leave the scale. No good could come of her keeping it; it was too confusing.
She set it down on the pebbly shore, watching the very next wave splash over it. As soon as it did, the thin, round scale was gone. A sudden sense of grief caressed her heart as Gwen realized that she would never see that magical gift again, but it was probably for the best. If she was going to depart from Neverland and truly leave all this behind, it would be better not to take such tangible reminders of it back with her. It was bad enough that she was keeping the headband Chief Dark Sun had given her.
She walked away, turning her back on the mermaid lagoon. She did not expect to hear a harmonious, high voice call out, “Gwen?”
She turned around at the very sound of the voice, before she even knew that it was her name the voice was speaking. Lasiandra waited by the edge of the water. Her hands against the sandy floor of the lagoon, she propped herself up in the shallow, lapping waters. Her tail flexed and splashed, the paper-thin tips of her fins catching the sunlight at a dozen different angles as they fell and rose out of the salty water. “You came back.”
Lasiandra was intimidating in her serenity. She lifted the scale out of the water, holding it up in her hand. “Yes, I did,” Gwen nervously answered. “How did you know I was here? I threw some pebbles in the water, but no one came.”
Lasiandra’s laugh was like rolling water. She pushed her wet, blonde hair out of her face. “You put my scale in the water, of course. Didn’t you know that’s what it was for?”
“Oh. No.”
“Silly girl, didn’t Peter at least tell you what mermaid scales do?”
“Ah, no… he didn’t know that. I, well, I mean, it didn’t come up…”
Lasiandra thoughtfully tipped her head. “He doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?”
“Um, no.”
Lasiandra smiled at Gwen’s nervousness. “If you’re so afraid to speak with me, why did you come all this way to leave my scale in the water so it could scream at me to come hither?”
“I don’t really know.”
Lasiandra giggled. “Well, why don’t you at least take the scale back? I left it just for you. Maybe when you do know, you can call me again.”
She held out the scale, trying to guile Gwen closer to her.
“No,” Gwen answered, shaking her head. “I’m leaving Neverland tomorrow, and I don’t imagine I’ll be back to see you again.”
“You don’t imagine it? What does that mean?” Lasiandra playfully mocked. “But don’t worry. I can hear my scale screaming from anywhere. Waters are not so different from one another, and they are all connected. Whatever water you put it in, I will come.”
“Why?” This didn’t make much sense to Gwen.
“Because I like you,” Lasiandra told her. “We could be friends.”
Gwen took a step closer.
“You’re afraid of me.” Lasiandra did not seem insulted, only disappointed.
“Shouldn’t I be?”
Lasiandra relaxed, her face thoughtful. She didn’t answer directly but told Gwen, “I won’t hurt you.” Gwen walked closer but stopped short, clutching her purse to herself. She was close enough to see the shifting, swirling contents of Lasiandra’s eyes. Like tide pools, they twirled within themselves, mesmerizing and beautiful. They were the color of the midday sky. “I won’t hurt you,” she repeated, her voice hushed now.
Gwen reached her hand out to the scale Lasiandra held out for her. The motion was slow, jittery, and full of apprehension… but Peter had told her—mermaids never lied.
Gwen dropped it into the side pocket of her satchel where it would be safe for the moment. Still staring Lasiandra in the eye, her heart skipped a beat when she whispered, “Come into the water with me, Gwen.”
She didn’t mean to draw a breath in as sharply as she did. She took a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Lasiandra retained a relaxed posture. True to her word, she hadn’t hurt Gwen. “Peter told you not to, didn’t he?”
Gwen looked back at the cliff. She could leave, but instead, her eyes went back to Lasiandra. Her head gave an honest nod.
“Then surely he also told you that we never lie.” The innocence in her voice seemed somewhat forced. Her tone dropped, and she spoke much more earnestly. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to you. The other mermaids aren’t anywhere near the lagoon, Gwen. It would just be us. I promise you won’t get hurt.”
Gwen trusted her, and it scared her to realize how quickly Lasiandra was winning her confidence. She looked for shallow excuses, trying not to dismiss the deep distrust she couldn’t rationalize. “I don’t want to get my clothes wet.”
“Then take them off.” Lasiandra rolled over, propping herself up by her elbows and watching her fins flick the little lapping waves along the shore. When she saw the surprise on Gwen’s face, she said, “It’s just us girls. You can dry in the sun and put them back on afterward.”
Gwen looked back at the cliff, half-expecting to see someone racing down it to save her from herself, but nobody was coming. As Lasiandra had so simply pointed out, the two girls were alone in the lagoon.
Gwen lifted her satchel off over her head and set it down on the shore. She swallowed, and began undoing the buttons on the front of her sundress. Lasiandra was quiet, as if not daring to speak for fear of diverting Gwen from the course of action she was now pursuing. As she dropped the dress down with her purse, Lasiandra swam a little further out, where the waters were just deep enough for her to comfortably tread water.
The Neverland Wars Page 16
