Always Neverland (8 page)

Chapter 11.
We Fake a Thunderstorm

“Y
ou have to stay here.”

“No, I don't. You need my help.”

The voices woke me up, but it took me a moment to recognize them. I rubbed my eyes and stared around me in sleepy confusion. The light shining through the leaves was still weak and gray. The sun wasn't even up yet.

“I've handled it plenty of times on my own.”

“Yeah, but you said yourself that this particular harvest isn't a one-Lost-Boy job.”

I was sleeping between two giant leaves, inside a net woven from vines.

That's right—I was in Neverland!

I sat up, suddenly wide-awake. I refused to sleep anymore if I could have adventures instead. As soon as that occurred to me, I started to float. Excitement can do that to a Wendy girl.

“Well, it's not really a two-Lost-Boy job either, so it would be better if you stayed here. You'll only get in my way.”

“I won't. Prank, I promise I won't.”

I peered over the edge of the leaf hammock. Prank flew across the clearing, carrying something that I couldn't make out in the dim light. Kyle gave himself a running start and jumped up in the air, chasing after Prank.

They were going to do something way more exciting than spring cleaning. I just knew it. I wiggled through the leaf-hammock net and raced after them, following the sound of their voices.

“Go
back
, Kyle. The fairies will recognize you.”

“Won't they recognize
you
? You're the one who always goes over there. Besides, you promised to let me help.”

I ducked under a leafy branch and found them. Prank carried a large flat sheet of metal under his arm. It looked a lot like a cookie sheet. He also had a bucket hanging from his elbow and a plastic watering can in his other hand, but Kyle was trying to wrestle the watering can away.

“Hey, guys,” I said as casually as possible.

“Good morning!” said Kyle.

“Oh, no—not you, too,” said Prank with a groan.

“What are you guys up to?”

“We're going to the fairies' tree to harvest fairy dust!” Kyle cried. “That way, we'll still be able to fly even if Tink gets mad and refuses to give us any.”

The fairies' tree! I would love to see more fairies.

“Except it's not ‘we.' I'm the only one going,” said Prank.

“Prank, that's not fair!”

“I can't have you messing things up. Tricking an entire tree of fairies is a very delicate operation.”

“Well, of
course
Kyle wants to come,” I said quickly, cutting in before the argument got really carried away. “Your tricks are
legendary
in Neverland. It's only natural we would want to see you in action.”

“But I want to
help
—,” Kyle started to protest, but I shot him a warning look. I knew what I was doing. Sometimes, a little flattery could go a long way. Well, much farther than arguing or begging anyway.

Prank's mouth twitched oddly, like he wanted to smile very wide, but he thought it might be beneath his dignity as someone legendary in Neverland. “Fine, you can come,” he said finally, passing the watering can to Kyle and the oversized cookie sheet to me. “But you better do everything
exactly
how I tell you.”

“Yes!” Kyle cried, and, hugging the cookie sheet to my chest, I hid a triumphant smile.

Dodging tree limbs, we flew after Prank, who still carried the bucket in the crook of his elbow. “Your goal,” Prank said, sounding more serious than I'd ever heard him, “is to lure the fairies out of their tree long enough for me to collect the fairy dust.”

Overcome with excitement, Kyle began to snort softly through his nose, grinning widely.

Prank stopped and gave him a stern look. “This is no laughing matter, Kyle. If you can't settle down and focus, then I really will make you go back.”

Kyle clamped his hand over his mouth, and I felt for him. I definitely knew what it was like for people to threaten to send you home.

“So, what's the plan?” I asked.

Prank turned away and started flying through the trees again. “To get all the fairies out at the same time, they have to believe that something irresistible is outside. The only thing
all
fairies find
completely
irresistible is—”

“A thunderstorm!” Kyle interrupted, letting his hand fall from his mouth.

“But why?” I asked, privately thinking that his plan was a little far-fetched.

“Because a lightning bolt will grant a wish,” Prank said. “
If
they can catch it.”

For the fairies' sake, I hoped that lightning bolts were less deadly in Neverland than they were at home.

The idea excited Kyle so much that he started sailing through the trees a little higher than Prank and me, giggling madly again.

“Kyle,” Prank said sharply.

Kyle stopped giggling. “Sorry.”

“You're Rain,” Prank told him, pointing at the watering can Kyle was carrying. “Let's see you practice.”

With his eyebrows pinched together and his tongue sticking out, Kyle tipped the watering can carefully. A steady shower of water spilled from the spout and plopped to the forest floor ten feet below.

“No, not like that,” Prank said flatly, and Kyle's face fell. “The hard part is not to overdo it,” Prank explained, a little more gently. “There's only three of us—we could probably
never
mimic a thunderstorm in full swing,
but
we can probably convince the fairies that one is starting. Kyle, you just need to sprinkle a few drops here and there.”

“Maybe you can
Pretend
,” I suggested, suddenly remembering what the Lost Boys had said about Pretending being better than practicing. “Just imagine that you're already a great rain faker or something.”

When Kyle looked to him for permission, Prank shrugged. “It couldn't hurt.”

“Okay.” Kyle concentrated again, his tongue sticking out, and he only spilled a few drops.

Prank nodded. “Much better. You're Thunder, Wendy girl.”

It took me a second to remember that Prank meant me. “
Please
call me Ashley,” I said as I started to Pretend, my toes and fingers tingling.

I held the cookie sheet in front of me and rattled it. It did sound a lot like thunder.

“Good. Now follow me,” Prank said, flying forward.

Even though I had only seen it once before, I recognized the fairies' tree as soon as we reached it. It stood at the edge of a cliff, high above the sea. It glowed in the predawn dark, lit from the inside with hundreds of different-colored lights.

“Those are the fairies,” Kyle whispered. “The white ones are girls, and the purplish ones are boys.”

“What about the blue ones?” I asked.

Kyle frowned a little, thinking. “Not sure.”

“Shh. No more talking,” Prank said, as strict as any general before a battle. But his eyes gleamed, like he couldn't wait to get started. “We don't want to wake them up too early.”

When we got close enough to see through the leaves, I stifled a gasp. I had been impressed when I'd seen Button make the hammock the night before, but that was nothing compared to what the fairies had constructed. With a few slender vines and some big leaves folded like origami, they had created a whole town. Miniature houses sat on every branch, complete with shutters and patios. One even had a swimming pool.

A few of the larger buildings made me think that the fairies had done some traveling. I saw a castle with a moat and a drawbridge, two Eiffel Towers, a couple of pyramids with a sphinx out front, a Statue of Liberty, and a skinny structure as tall as I was, which looked a lot like the Empire State Building.

It was completely stunning. Tink had to really love Peter and the Lost Boys to decide to live with them instead of here with the other fairies. Knowing that made me wish she liked
me
more.

Spread over the ground below the tree and its leaf buildings was a layer of what looked like fine gold sugar, a few inches deep. It glowed and glittered on its own—fairy dust. Since all the fairies lived there, their dust had collected on the ground, unused and unnoticed.

With the bucket still hanging from his arm, Prank pointed upward. It was time for me and Kyle to take our places.

Okay, I know I told Prank that his tricks were legendary, but until you saw one of his tricks in action, you really
couldn't
know how good he actually was. He had carefully plotted out every detail of mimicking a thunderstorm.

Prank stared hard at the sky, watching it lighten. He was waiting for the perfect shade of gray, the one that would look the most like cloudy sky.

Or at least, it
might
—if you were a fairy who hadn't completely woken up from a good night's sleep.

It probably would've been impossible anywhere except Neverland, but, grasping the cookie sheet firmly in both hands, I Pretended that I was the best fake–thunder maker Neverland had ever seen. My toes and fingers tingled, just like they had before. Then I flew to the top of the fairies' tree with Kyle.

Suddenly, Prank raised his arm—the signal.

Pretending as hard as I could, I rattled the cookie sheet, very gently. To my relief, it gave off a soft, echoing rumble—almost exactly like distant thunder.

With a cry like a bell, the first fairy woke.

I flew across the crown of the tree to a different part of the fairies' city and shook the cookie sheet a little harder. It sounded like the thunder had come even closer.

A dozen more fairies woke, chittering questioningly.

Prank raised his other hand. It was Kyle's turn.

The littlest Lost Boy zipped across the top of the tree with the watering can, sprinkling a few drops here, a few drops there, just as if it were beginning to rain.

I flew around above the tree making little rumbles everywhere. Several fairies flew up out of their leaf homes and started zigzagging around the inside of their tree, chiming to the rest and waking them up. More and more fairies rose from their beds and joined the others, and the excited chittering got louder and louder. Kyle started snorting softly through his nose, grinning. He was having a really hard time keeping himself from laughing out loud. I kept one eye on Prank, waiting for the final signal.

When Prank pointed at me, I knew what I had to do.

Right above the part of the tree closest to the ocean, as my fingers and toes tingled with Pretending, I smacked the cookie sheet as hard as I could with my fist. The extra-loud thunder noise made all the fairies look in that direction. I zoomed quickly out of sight, and with a sound like a thousand bicycle bells ringing, the fairies poured out of the tree toward the water, hundreds of fist-sized lights. They searched the skies and roamed over the waves like a whirlwind of glowing sparks.

Prank didn't waste any time. As soon as the last fairy left the tree, he burst forward and flew into their leaf town, using the bucket to scoop up the abandoned fairy dust.

Kyle couldn't hold it in anymore. He burst into giggles.

A couple fairies looked back. Then, unmistakably, the swarm of fairies began to head our way.

“Run!” I cried. Tucking the cookie sheet under my arm, I raced back toward the woods, grabbing Kyle's hand on the way. Dodging branches and dragging a still-giggling Kyle, I tried not to think about what the fairies would do if they caught us. If they were anything like Tinker Bell, I didn't want to find out. For a few minutes, I could hear them following us, chattering angrily, but after we twisted deeper and deeper into the trees, they gave up the chase.

When Prank caught up with us, he glided through the air calmly, his bucket now filled to the
brim
with fairy dust. “Worked like a charm,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

“That was—,” Kyle started, but he giggled too hard to finish.

“Amazing,” I said, beginning to grin, and Prank looked as proud as Button had the night before. “How long until we can try it again?”

Chapter 12.
Peter Tries to Battle before Breakfast

I
'd been looking forward to telling everyone else about our early-morning adventures, but something very weird was going on when we got back to the Tree Home—weird even for Neverland. Peter, Button, and Dibs stood in a line in front of their home, their swords drawn. Tink looped and dived through the air around them, hissing and shaking her little fist.

All four of them were obviously ready for a fight.

The weird part was that I didn't see anyone for them
to
fight.

“Have at thee, villains!” Peter cried. “This is our home, and we will die defending it!”

Button and Dibs exchanged glances, looking a little queasy. It didn't seem like they wanted to die defending anything.

“Does Peter have some invisible enemies?” I asked, looking around.

Kyle shook his head. “It's the Never birds.”

I squinted at the ground in front of Button and Dibs. Then one of the Never birds flapped its wings with an angry squawk, and I saw where they were standing, ten of them. Their feathers blended into the dark brown soil so well that it was easier to see their shadows stretching out behind them than the birds themselves.

As Prank, Kyle, and I landed in the clearing, Button smiled. “You're back.”

“Just in time for the battle,” Peter said, saluting us with his golden sword.

“Battle?” I said, eyeing the Never birds skeptically. I was starting to get the impression that Peter just liked to fight.

But the Lost Boys didn't really act like it was out of the ordinary. They didn't even seem all that excited. Maybe they were used to fighting random battles as soon as they woke up, and this was just part of their daily routine.

Prank placed the bucket full of fairy dust carefully at the base of the Tree Home. “Just a sec. Let me get my swords.” He flew up toward his hiding place.

“Do you want to fight too?” Kyle asked me. “I don't think they'll need us, but I can get your sword if you want.”

“Um . . .” To be honest, I didn't really want to.

The Never birds had just helped us out with the pirates the night before. Maybe we didn't always agree on where they should put their nests, but weren't the Never birds our friends?

“That's okay,” Kyle said, guessing that I meant no. “I'll grab us breakfast, and we can watch from here.” He flew up to the branch above the others' heads, where a bunch of muffins were balanced on two tray-sized leaves. Someone must've gone to get them from the Grove of Food Trees.

Kyle tossed me one.

It was slightly warm, like it had come fresh from the oven. “Thanks,” I told Kyle, even though I wasn't completely sure I wanted to watch either.

The Never bird on the end ran sideways, closer to Kyle and me, and stopped, looking us up and down. I noticed the mark on her beak. It was Spot, the bird who filled her nest with rocks, the one younger than all the others.

She took another hesitant step closer. I was sure of it now. She was staring at
me
.

“How dare you, scoundrel!” Peter told the bird, flying to my rescue. “Attacking our unarmed Wendy girl!”

But the young Never bird didn't
seem
like she was attacking. She was just looking at me—or rather, at the muffin that was in my hands.

With a cry, Peter raised his sword over the Never bird in front of me, preparing to strike.

“Objection!” I cried. Then I remembered that Peter might not know what that meant. “I mean, wait! Please!”

To my surprise, Peter blinked at me, looking startled. “But why?”

“Maybe we can solve this without fighting,” I suggested. Peter frowned, eyeing Spot uncertainly. This was clearly a new idea for him. “Let's reexamine all the evidence. I don't think they want to hurt us.” I turned to Spot. “Is that true? Do you want to fight? Shake your head if the answer is no.”

Spot swung her beak from side to side.

“See?” I told Peter. “I'm sure we can find a diplomatic solution.”

Looking stern, Peter squared his shoulders and puffed up his chest. I'm pretty sure he was Pretending to be a diplomat. “You don't want to move back into our tree, do you? Because we can't allow that.”

The Never bird shook her head again, and seeing what was going on, the rest of the Never birds and the Lost Boys crowded around.

“Then what is it that you
do
want, Spot?” I asked, tossing my muffin from hand to hand. Spot's gaze followed it, and then she looked at me with a pleading look.

“This?” I said, surprised, holding up the muffin.

Spot nodded vigorously and squawked.

“Oh, they're hungry, that's all,” I told Peter and the Lost Boys.

“Well, then, they'll have to fight us for it—for every last crumb,” Dibs said savagely, but when no one else echoed him, he started to look a little unsure. “Right?”

“Do they have to?” I asked Peter. “We already moved them out of their tree. Can't we share a few muffins?”

Peter considered, pacing the air a few inches above the ground.

The Never birds looked up at him pitifully. The Lost Boys (well, except for Dibs) looked at him hopefully, lowering their swords.

“As long as the Never birds do not try to move back into our tree,” Peter said in a firm, diplomatic voice, “then they may eat.”

Honking with delight, the Never birds launched themselves into the air. They landed on the branches around the leaf tray and picked at the muffins.

“Here you go,” I told Spot, holding out my muffin before she flew off too. She ate it in two gulps and then rubbed her head affectionately against my legs, the same way a cat might. I smiled, petting her feathers. “You're welcome. I'm not sure if I would've wanted to fight before I'd eaten anything either.”

“There's just one problem,” Dibs pointed out, glaring at me like it was my fault. “The Never birds are eating
all
the muffins. We won't have enough for
our
breakfast.”

The Lost Boys all turned to me. Peter turned too, suddenly looking less like a diplomat and more like someone who just found out that he might have to skip a meal.

“Maybe we can eat out?” I suggested hopefully.

When we reached the Grove of Food Trees, Tiger Lily and her braves were already there. They greeted Peter and the Lost Boys enthusiastically.

“Hello! Good morning to all of you!”

“Button, my pudgy friend, you must sample this fruit tart.”

“You haven't run into pirates today, have you?”

“They've been searching the wood for Hook's hat.”

“There it is. Dibs, did you steal it?”

“No, it must've been Peter. Or Prank.”

None of them noticed me, but I didn't mind all that much. I needed a second to take in the scene around me.

Tiger Lily's tribe wasn't what I expected. The princess herself wore blue and red beads and feathers and soft doeskin leggings. She looked so beautiful and so polished that every time I glanced at her, I felt self-conscious about my torn and dirty pajamas.

Her braves were another story.

They talked with faint
English accents
and wore the most random outfits: one brave wore an orange leather jacket with green gym shorts; another wore a ripped tuxedo with bright beaded necklaces and no shirt; several just wore faded plaid shirts and cut-off jeans.

Really, the only sign that they all belonged to the same tribe were the feathers braided into their long hair and the war paint on their faces.

And then there were the food trees. I didn't see any apples and pears or fruits like that. Instead, whole meals grew on the branches. On one tree, french fries hung ripening in clusters like grapes, and cheeseburgers dotted the tree next to it. One smallish tree looked like it was covered in huge ripe oranges, but when I got closer, I saw that they were actually balls of macaroni and cheese. From another, cupcakes hung upside down from stems like apples.

One tree was covered with tiny pizzas, all different kinds—four-cheese, sausage with red peppers, supreme, a few with mushrooms, one with just broccoli (eww!). The tree even had Mom's favorite: half pepperoni and half pineapple with onion. I wondered how the cheese and toppings stayed on them, but magic must've kept them from sliding off.

I reached up, picked a mini pizza off the tree, and nibbled thoughtfully. It was delicious—much better than my last pizza at home!

With my food in hand, I glanced around the grove for a place to sit. No one looked my way.

Peter was telling the story about Hook's hat to six or seven braves, with Tink and Dibs acting out all the scenes.

Under the cheeseburger tree, Button sat with a brave wearing a camouflage T-shirt torn at the shoulder. It looked like he was teaching Button how to make an arrow while they ate.

Since the braves couldn't fly, Prank and Kyle did them a favor and picked food off parts of the tree that the others couldn't reach.

“Would you mind getting me that cupcake, Kyle? No, not that one. The one on the right. That's the one,” said one brave.

“Prank, if you could possibly reach that pizza . . . ?” said another.

I stopped in my tracks. It suddenly felt like when you go to the cafeteria on the first day of school—not knowing where to sit or where you belong.

Tiger Lily! I could sit with her!

I flew up into the air a few feet and searched the grove for the princess.

There she was, across the clearing, between the macaroni and cheese tree and the cupcake tree.

She had the same look as the most popular girl in school. She didn't dress like anyone else. She dressed better—the deerskin gown fit her exactly; the beading stitched on it shone in the sun. The feathers and beads braided in her hair were like carefully chosen accessories. She looked over the scene with a calm, cool confidence. She was royalty, and she knew it.

Then she glanced in my direction. I was almost sure of it. I smiled and flew toward her.

But right before I landed, she turned away and started talking to the brave beside her.

Surprised, I abruptly lost my happy thought.

I fell to the ground so fast that my heels stung.

I really
wanted
to think that she just hadn't seen me. She
was
the only other girl in the grove. Wouldn't she want us to stick together?

It certainly didn't look that way.

Maybe Tiger Lily didn't want to be my friend.

“Wendy girl! Come over here! I want you to meet someone,” Kyle shouted.

He was sitting at the base of a tree covered with chicken tenders that hung in bunches like bananas.

The smallest brave knelt next to him. He wore a sleeveless shirt, which showed off the red stripes painted all the way down his arms. He had also painted a red smiley face on his cheek, which didn't seem very warlike.

I flew over, grateful that
someone
wanted my company. “Hi.”

Smiling, the little brave moved his bow and quiver out of the way so that I could sit down beside them. “I am Pouncing Squirrel,” he said with a deep nod. He had an English accent too, but he sounded a lot more formal than the others.

Personally, I thought that if he was going to be a brave, he was going to need a name more intimidating than Pouncing Squirrel, but it would've been rude to say so. “Nice to meet you. I'm Ashley.”

“A pleasure,” said Pounce.

“He's Tiger Lily's brother,” Kyle told me, and he took a huge bite of his cheeseburger. Pounce gave Kyle a sharp look. I guessed he didn't like to be introduced like that. “The second in command among the Indians. What is it that you guys call yourself now?” he asked the brave. “The Forest Walkers?”

“Nah, that was last week,” said Pounce. “Now, we're the Cubs.”

“Like bear cubs?” I asked, confused.

Pounce shook his head. “Like
Tiger
Lily's Cubs.”

“Not buds? Or seedlings?” said Kyle in a sly, teasing way, and I pressed my lips together, not wanting to laugh in case it offended someone.

“Yeah, right—how scary would that be? Tiger Lily and her Fearsome Seedlings!” said Pounce. To me, he said, “Kyle has been telling me of your adventure. I am very impressed.”

I smiled, feeling proud of myself. I'd already had a
ton
of adventures. “Which one exactly?”

“The fairies, this morning,” Kyle said through a mouthful. “Pounce and I tried once before.”

“I wanted some fairy dust. To be the first brave to fly in Neverland,” said Pounce. “Kyle offered to help me. Unfortunately, it did not go as we hoped.”

“That's why Prank didn't want to bring me,” Kyle explained. “The fairies knocked us both off the cliff.”

“Without fairy dust,” Pounce added with a rueful smile.

“Ouch,” I said with a wince. That cliff was pretty tall.

“We climbed back up—the hard way,” Kyle said. He and Pounce exchanged glances and smiled at the memory.

“I have also heard that you stole Hook's hat, Wendy girl,” Pounce said. “That is a great feat.”

I'm a sucker for compliments, just like the rest of them. Right then, I decided that Tiger Lily didn't see me earlier. She couldn't be so mean, not with a brother as friendly as Pounce.

Just as I glanced around, looking for her, the princess slipped into the trees at the edge of the clearing. She carried her bow and quiver across her shoulder.

I jumped to my feet. I didn't want her to leave before I tried making friends one more time. “Where's Tiger Lily going?”

Pounce shrugged. “Who knows? She is very odd, my sister.”

“Quick—what's her favorite food here?” I asked.

“Cupcakes,” said Kyle.

“Her tooth is quite sweet,” Pounce agreed. “Why do you ask?”