Captain James Hook and the Curse of Peter Pan (9 page)

I swam to the bottom and found that I didn't have far to go.
 
Several feet down, I came to a passage much wider than I expected.
 
Four men could swim side by side through the opening.

Nearly a minute later, just as I reached the edge of how long I could hold my breath, I surfaced.
 
I coughed, wiped my eyes, and looked around.
 
I was in another cave with more dark rocky walls, but this time the water led in from an outside source. I rose from the pond and followed it.

The crashing sound up ahead told me that there was a waterfall long before I saw it.
 
This was clearly the source of the water on the island, but where was it coming from?
 
Spray from the rocks stung my face and arms as I worked my way around.
 

Once free, I turned and saw Neverland for the first time.
 

My breath fled into the noonday air as tears streamed down my face.
 
When I did breathe back in, my lungs were filled with a honey-scented sweetness. Worry, anger, and pain melted from me and I became too heavy to stand.

What stunned me was not the fantastic, but the distinguishable clarity of the common. Everything looked as fresh and vivid as a new uniform. The grass was the most vivid green. The flowers were a vibrant blue and violet. The water, however, had no color. It was completely clear regardless of depth.

I rose from my knees and took my first steps in this new world.
 
I walked without knowing that I took a single step but caught myself in time to get my bearings and see beyond the waterfall.
 
Grassy hills and forests covered the land.
 
On all sides the endless expanse of water mocked me.
 
Even here, I was stranded without hope.

I turned to head back when a rustling startled me.
 
Fearing the croc, I ducked behind a four foot mushroom and peered around the corner to identify my stalker.

The forest ceased to move as if begging me to come out of hiding.
 
The thick blood of my veins pounded in my ears with each passing moment.
 
Suddenly, a voice assaulted me from above.

“I found you, Slightly! You’re it!” squealed the upside down boy.

“Who?” I shot back.
 
His eyes opened wide with shock and he spilled off of the mushroom cap onto the grass.

“You’re not Slightly,” the boy said.

“I know that,” I told him.
 
“Who are you?”

“They call me Nibs. I’m one of the Lost Boys.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Nibs?” I asked. “What kind of name is that?” The boy got up off of the ground and dusted himself off.
 
I didn’t see the point, seeing how he was covered in filth from head to toe.

“It’s my name and I’m proud of it,” he said with a smile. “What’s yours?”

“James,” I told him.
 
He’s younger than me and smaller too.
 
The knife tucked away in his belt told me more about his life here than anything else.

“You’re not from here,” he said. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Well, if you’re not from Neverland, how did you get here?” I pointed to the waterfall and his face went white. “The croc’s cave? No one goes in there. She’s a monster.”

“I know. I’ve seen her.” I took a step back toward the waterfall and a twig snapped behind the bushes, followed by hushed whispers. “You said there were others?”

He nodded to the tree line and underbrush.
 
One by one, dirty children emerged out into the open and surrounded me.

“We’re the Lost Boys,” Nibs said.
 
I looked from one to the other until my eyes settled on a familiar face.

“Donald?” I asked.
 
“Donald Sotheby?” There was no mistaking his curly hair and dim expression.
 
“My God, I can’t believe I have found you.” But as I moved to greet him, the others raised their weapons of war against me.

“What is the meaning of this?” I said as they looked me over carefully.

“Found me?” Donald asked.
 
“I’ve been here as long as I remember. And my name’s Curly.”

“Nibs,” the one with the panda hat and blackened eye said, “where did you find this one?”

“He says he came from the cave behind the waterfall, Tootles,” Nibs responded.
 
“He says he’d seen the croc.”
 
The boys gasped all at once.
 
I decided to ignore their foolishness and turn my attention back to my old schoolmate.

“Donald, you were in my class at Port Royal.
 
You disappeared over a year ago.”
 
He looked to Nibs and then back to me.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said, shaking his head. The boys looked to one another and kept their sharpened sticks and knives pointed at me.

“Your father is a doctor in town. Mine is … was a captain.” I searched for some recognition in his eyes, but found only pools of emptiness. “We looked for you.”

A stifled “thank you” and a shrug was the best he offered in response.
 
Maybe he had some sort of accident or a bump on the head has affected his memory. I decided to use another boy as an example.

“Nibs, where are you from?” I asked.
 
His face twisted as though it were an odd question.

“What do you mean? I’m from Neverland,” he said.

“I mean before Neverland. You had to have come from somewhere.” I saw that I was going to have to guide him to the answer I was looking for.
 
“You know how I came through the cave?
 
If you didn’t come through the cave, then how did you get here? How did you get to Neverland?” His eyes lit up and he puffed his chest with confidence.

“I was brought here,” he said confidently. He then made a broad wave towards all of the boys and said, “We all were.”

“Brought here?” I asked. “Who would bring you here?” The answer came to me before any of the boys could speak.
 
Memories of endless fields of stars and moons flashed before my eyes as I said the name of the only boy I knew who was capable of bringing a child across creation, “Pan.”

A wind from the shore cut through the trees and shook tired limbs. Countless jostled birds took flight, blotting out the sun. Among their cries, I heard a rooster crow followed by the patter of two nimble feet landing fast between the boys and me. They all gasped again, lowered their weapons, and stared in amazement.

“Wow, you’ve found me,” Peter Pan called out. “I am so happy. Now we can play all we want, forever.”

“Forever?” I asked him, still stunned by his sudden appearance.
 
With the birds gone, the sun lit up his hair and features.

“Of course, forever,” he told me, “and besides, I’m tired of just playing with Tiger Lily and her Indians.”

“So this truly is Neverland?” I asked him.
 
Pan looked at his boys before they all doubled over in laughter.

“But of course it is,” Peter said, still rolling on the grass. “Where else would I be, silly?”

The question was a bit naive after everything I’d seen. It just seemed that since the first night we met, Pan had shown me the impossible.
 
If I’d only been able to fly that first night, perhaps I’d have seen many more wonders.

At that moment, my eyes caught Donald’s gaze.
 
Again, I searched his face but there seemed to be nothing left of my friend behind those eyes. My mind raced to the only possible conclusion.

“I don’t know, perhaps taking children from their homes?” I sneered.
 
The question took Peter by complete surprise.
 
His face grew stern as he rose to his feet.
 
I pointed to Donald.

“His name is Donald Sotheby and he was my schoolmate,” I told him.

“Curly?” Peter asked, annoyed.

“He disappeared the night we first met,” I continued.
 
“You took him because I couldn’t fly, didn’t you?”

“His name is Curly and he wants to be here,” Peter said, now hovering inches off of the ground.

“He wants this, does he?” I asked. “Mindless? Dirty? No memories? Is this what you would have me be, Peter? These boys have families. They have mothers and fathers.”

“What’s a family when you have Neverland?” he said, soaring over our heads. The boys, Donald included, watched in wonder. “Battles and adventure! Treasure and games! It’s an eternal childhood.”

“It’s an eternal servitude,” I called out to him.
 
Peter did another loop in the air to the boys’ delight. I turned to Donald and grabbed his wrist. “Come, I’ll get you home.”

Seeing this, Peter stopped his show and swooped down between us.
 
He landed on the mushroom cap, drew his short sword, and raised it to the sky.
         

“Lost Boys! Fall in!” he commanded. Like an obedient dog, Curly left my side and took his place in the formation.
 
They stood at attention and awaited their next order.

“You’re all fools!” I shouted at them. “Without your memories, you are truly lost.” I turned back to the waterfall and Peter flew around to block the way.

“Why don’t you stay with us?” His voice was soft and kind again.
 
“Aren't you lost, too?”
 
Something ancient and unnatural stared back at me from behind his eyes. I didn’t know what he truly was, but Peter Pan was no mere boy.

“I am not lost, Peter. I’m stranded. There's a difference,” I told him.
 
I moved again to the cave and he again moved in my way. The temperature dropped suddenly. Clouds rolled in and the sky became dark.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked him.
 
“With a thought, you could send William and me back to our homes.
 
I have to get back and if you are not going to help me then I will have to do it myself.” With inhuman speed, he placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned in close.

“You won’t survive as you are,” he said.
 
“If it isn’t the croc, it’ll be something else.” Whether this was a threat, a warning, or a trick, I knew he was right. Our stores of food were running low and William and I risked starving within weeks.
 
One look back to the Lost Boys gave me all the answers I needed.

“I’d rather die as I am now than live for centuries like them.” With a deep breath, I pushed past him and into the cave, leaving Neverland behind.

Chapter Eighteen

The storm passed, causing little damage.
 
Its wake, however, devastated us.

When the skies finally cleared, we emerged from the cave to downed trees and upturned beaches.
 
Paths we had walked for months no longer existed and in their place, new paths were carved.
 
I used these new paths to check on my father’s grave site.

William set up the fire in the mouth of the cave to keep burning while we were out.
 
As large as it was, this croc was not as bold as to attack while we were together.
 
Still, we made our way with caution.

The tree with the carved words was split in half down the middle.
 
Nothing of the old Spaniard’s words remained.
 
Thirty paces east, my fears were abated as we found my father’s grave undisturbed.
 
The breath I released carried with it more worry than I would have thought.
 
My shoulders slumped and I allowed myself a second breath of respite.

“James!” William called out from behind the brush.
 
My heart leapt again into my throat and my pulse pounded with the fear of what might be.
 
Pistol drawn, I pounced on William’s position.

I approached William who was hurriedly digging a mound in the dirt. He called out to me again and began to bang at something hard. Wood splintered and creaked as he tore the lid off of an old chest, revealing gold as bright as the sun and speckled with gems like the night’s sky.

“James!” he cried. “We’re rich!” His face broadened with a grin brighter than all the treasure in the royal court.
 
Bile churned in my stomach and I lost the battle to compose my temper.

“We are wealthy men,” I bit. “With that kind of money, maybe we can charter a ship home?” His eyes dimmed as his folly was laid bare.
 
He got up and kicked the chest over in a rage against his own foolishness.

Three weeks passed and every day was a struggle.
 
William and I carried on by dodging the croc and fishing when we could.
 
Both of us were needed to stay alive and we became quite good at knowing what the other was thinking.

One morning, it ended in shouts and gunpowder.

William shook me from sleep.
 
His eyes were wide with panic and he was out of breath from running.

“The far side… of the island…” was all he stammered at first. His next breath made real the fear we’d been desperate to avoid.
 
“Pirates.”

We leapt from the cave and climbed up the vines onto the overhang above the mouth of our new home.
 
From there, we could see the far shore.
 
Off in the distance was a colossal three-masted frigate with a black flag above the crow’s nest.
 
I didn’t need to look at the design of the flag to know that William was right.

“How far off are they?” William asked. I reached into my pocket and flicked my father’s watch open.

“They’ll land in fifteen minutes,” I told him.
 
“If they head straight to us, it’ll take them another ten.”
 
I snapped it shut and stuffed it into my pocket.

“Why come at us?” he asked.

“We have their treasure,” I told him.
 
A smug look overtook his face.
 
“The gold has value to those who can use it.”