“It’s okay,” he said. “Come here, I’ll show you, you can do it too.”
“With fairy dust and happy thoughts?” Preston asked remembering these instructions from Before.
“No,” Peter shook his head. “Just walk off the branch and if you know you’ll be okay, if you know you can fly, you’ll be fine. All children think happy thoughts, they don’t have problems, they don’t have worries, we’re all a bundle of happy thoughts and so we don’t have to start thinking them, and as for fairy dust, it’s all around, it’s in the air, it’s a part of the makeup of this place, you don’t need a special dose of it.”
“Really?” Preston asked and Peter shook his head Yes.
“Step off and see; I want to show you around,” Peter called and with that he flew away, doing a double loop and coming right at Preston, who tumbled off the branch, his eyes closed as he nearly hit the ground. Peter was there with him, ready to catch him, and with the sense of the leader’s presence, he felt safe, and it lifted him, he felt light and airy, moving through the sky as Peter followed.
They cascaded over the tree house and Preston nearly got caught up in the red bars of the Ferris wheel, but he turned at the last second, as another boy fell off and flew with them for a while. Preston closed his eyes as they dashed above the trees, soaring so he could see this entire place. It was land and it went on for miles, then there was a curve toward the water and he could see a misty lagoon, and on the other side there was a forest where a bunch of tepees stood across from a group of log cabins. Most of it was forest, all those trees separating each world from another, but one group of trees was so lit up it looked as if it was on fire, burning uncontrollably. Preston turned around, and he could see a ship in the water, a big black one that, even from far away, looked as if it was enveloped in smoke.
“Don’t look there,” Peter gasped, grabbing Preston and bringing him back to the ground. “You don’t want to see it and they can’t know we’re watching them.”
“Who?” Preston asked and though he was starting to recall everything else, things from Before, he still couldn’t heed the pirate warnings.
“We don’t look at pirates,” Peter said forcefully. “That’s all, just stay away from them; you can fly anywhere you want, just not by them. And you’ll know where they are—you’ll start to lose your happy thoughts, you won’t be able to fly.”
“So what’re we up to today?” Preston heard a voice call from behind and turned to see Starky followed by Dilweed coming out of the trees. Starky was still wearing his blazer and shorts, but Dilweed had changed and now wore nicer jeans and a black T-shirt with an emblem Preston couldn’t recognize on it.
“He’s Remembering,” Peter said, descending to the ground as everyone followed him. “I’m going to show him around.”
“You’re not going to wait for the other kids to come?” Dilweed inquired.
“Can we show him around with you?” Starky asked, eyes wide, mouth gaping open like a happy puppy.
“Of course you can,” Peter replied as if to even ask the question didn’t make sense.
“What’re you going to show him first?” Dilweed asked, seeming to consider whether he’d participate.
“I was going to show him Mermaid Lagoon first and then the cowboys and Indians and then the fairies and maybe we’d go over to the caves and the Neverbird…”
“I want to go,” Dilweed announced and Peter chuckled, holding his hands over his stomach as if to keep the joy inside.
“Is that all right with you? Do you want to see the mermaids and the cowboys and Indians?” Peter asked Preston.
“You have cowboys and Indians?”
“We have both,” Peter explained. “Sometimes they’re not cowboys and Indians, sometimes they’re policemen and firefighters, or they’re teachers and students or they’re soldiers on two sides of an army, recently they’ve been elves and hobbits—it doesn’t matter, as long as there are two groups of them.”
“Okay,” Preston responded and they moved along. Preston might have preferred to fly, he was starting to like the idea, but he didn’t mind walking.
At the edge of the forest, where the trees got thicker, so thick Preston thought it might be time to lift himself off the ground so as not to trudge through the bramble, he heard a soft, low rumbling, like the branches of trees shaking. “Holy Cow, no!” Dilweed hissed, grasping Starky, who stood bravely in front, but visibly afraid.
“What is it?” Preston asked, wondering if he had real cause for worry, since there didn’t appear to be any actual threats in Neverland when the pirates weren’t around.
“Boxwood’s here. I hope he doesn’t know about you, I hope he didn’t find us,” Dilweed replied, taking a few steps back as the rumbling grew louder and Peter stood between the boys and the woods.
A boy appeared from the trees like a wounded animal, screaming and hissing before he stopped and stared at them. At first Preston didn’t think he was seeing anything, it was as if he were watching make-believe, the child was so unchild-like. He was a little taller than Preston, though not as tall as Peter, and he slumped when he walked, back arched, feet dragging as if he, not just his feet, were broken. He was pale white, like in a horror movie, and there was blood caked on his lips and under his nose like he’d been out eating raw animals. His clothes looked very old, he had a wide gray collared shirt and a black overcoat with holes in the pockets and when he opened his mouth, Preston saw that two teeth were missing and the rest were visibly black. The boy hissed at them, first like a snake and then like a disturbed cat, he looked at the Lost Boys, but also past them, as if he knew there was something there, but couldn’t tell what it was.
“Who…what is that?” Preston asked, looking away. He wanted to fly with Peter, but none of them moved.
“It’s Boxwood,” Peter explained. “He’s been here too long. He’s starting to grow up.”
“What?” Preston asked, looking back at the boy, who did not seem a day past eleven, maybe twelve. “How old was he when he came?”
They all looked at Preston, distraught, and in that instant Boxwood, who appeared to be biding his time, ran at them, grasping Dilweed’s arm and biting right into it. “Ouch!” Dilweed cried, pulling away. The raving boy stepped back and Peter started to yell at him as if he were a dog.
“Go on! Go! Shoo, shoo! Go away, go away!” he cried and the boy shivered for an instant, looking like he might attack he was so confused, but instead he ran the other way, back into the woods.
“What happened?” Preston asked, still perturbed. He had been under the impression that if a boy could fall from a tree and be perfectly fine, then he should not bleed after another has bitten him. Before his question could be answered Preston saw a white light coming out of the forest. A few fairies danced on Dilweed’s arm until the bleeding stopped and he was healed.
“It’s like he’s a pirate,” Peter explained. “He’s been Here too long and I don’t know why the Island keeps holding on to him. Every time I think about taking him to the After, first when he was a nice little boy, a boy who had been around for a while, but still a nice boy, the Island told me not to. Then he started to go bad. First he was just cranky, but then he started doing these weird things, pulling the heads off animals, and taking knives from dinner and stabbing other boys with them. Again I wanted to take him, but the Island still said no. Then he left, he ran into the forest and now he just sort of haunts it. He’s not a pirate, and the pirates won’t have him, he’s not one of them. So he lives in the woods and whenever we see him he attacks us. But don’t worry, even if he hurts you, the fairies can heal you, that’s their job, and he won’t follow for long. He’s really afraid of loud noises.”
“He was a boy like us?” Preston asked. “What