“Oh,” Preston replied, wanting to know more, but wondering if he should ask.
“Come on,” Peter called, perking up, “let’s fly over to Mermaid Lagoon.”
“Yes!” Starky cried coming off the ground and twirling into the sky as if they’d all forgotten that fiasco. He was over their heads, above the trees, before Peter could catch up. Peter was the next to rocket away, Dilweed following close behind. Preston waited a second until the boys were over his head. He shook the mean, scary boy out of his thoughts and once they were gone, once the memory of the Ferris wheel and video games, of Starky and Dilweed returned, Preston soared over the forest.
He could feel the wind, it had been calm down in the trees, but once he took flight he could sense the air around him, and the shimmering sheet of gold and silver dust that sparkled in an incredible light. It felt like swimming, as if there was nothing to hold onto as Peter led them across the Island.
Peter hovered over a pond-like body of water as Dilweed and Starky followed. “There they are,” he cried, pointing down as he nosedived into the lagoon. Preston and the two boys followed, watching as Peter did not back down, cascading through the plane of water and coming up a few seconds later, after Preston, Starky and Dilweed had landed safely on a rock. “That was fun!” he cried, coming up soaking wet, his blond locks dripping as he shook them free like a dog. Peter flew high into the air, careening back down and landing delicately on the surface of the lagoon, directly on top of the water. “Hello down there,” he called. “Are you there, is anyone there?”
The mermaids came up, there could have been fifty or a hundred, their silky, wet heads emerging from the bright blue water. Three of them stayed longer than a moment, heads bobbing, placidly smiling as their fish tails splashed the surface.
“What’s down there?” Preston asked leaning over his rock.
“Stay back, only Peter can go near them,” Dilweed warned.
“They’ll pull you in and drown you if you get too close,” Peter explained.
The mermaids continued bobbing, smiling and politely laughing, as they pointed past Peter at Preston. Preston could see their forms under the water, some of them had large bellies, others were bleeding from their stomachs, though they didn’t appear to be in pain. “That’s where the mermaids live,” Starky explained. “They have a whole underwater kingdom with houses and Ferris wheels, there are even castles down there.”
“Can we go?” Preston asked, excited by the prospect of underwater castles.
“We can’t go to the mermaid kingdom, not even I can hold my breath that long,” Peter explained. “They’ll pull us in, they’ll make us stay until we drown if we let them. Not that downing matters Here, you’d wake right up again, but it’s still unpleasant.”
“Why are they bleeding?” Preston asked. “Why are their stomachs so big?”
“The mermaids came Here like the rest of you. They come from Before and they’re all going After, but they’re grownups. Everyone else is a grownup.”
“I thought this place was for kids?” Preston asked feeling a little lost.
“It is for kids,” Peter explained. “Everyone Here is somehow tied to children. The mermaids are mothers who came Here because they died during childbirth. That’s why they’re all girls and they’re the only girls Here, except the fairies of course, they’re girls as well, but they didn’t come Here like the mermaids.”
“They’re mothers who died in childbirth?” Preston inquired.
“They come Here for a while. But they’re not all happy, they want a child of their own and most of the time their babies survived, besides, babies don’t come Here, you have to be over a certain age. That’s why they’ll pull you under, they’ll drown you if you’re not careful,” Peter explained. “They don’t talk to us. There used to be a lot more of them, now we only get a few a day and they’re usually gone within an hour.”
“Why do they come?” Preston asked and Peter scratched his head.
“I don’t know, they’re just Here.”
The mermaids, who had been watching, flitted their tails and swam away. Preston could see the large belly of one as her bright blue tail flashed through the sequenced water, parting the sun as it shone off the miniscule waves.
“D’you want to see the cowboys and Indians?” Starky asked, jumping up and down.
“Okay,” Preston replied, eyes still on the glistening water. Peter rose into the air and the two boys followed. They were off on their way before Preston noticed and, not wanting to get lost, he trailed them into the air and over the forest.
They flew swiftly across the trees to a place where smoke rose through the branches. The island looked so large when Preston took it in all at once, but it didn’t take long to fly anywhere, Mermaid Lagoon had only been a few seconds away and as soon as he glided over the forest Preston landed next to Peter at a clear spot in the trees.
He could hear the sounds of drums and tambourines as the wild cries of a man’s melodic wailing rang out nearby. “That’s the Indians,” Dilweed explained, whispering importantly into Preston’s ear. “They’re always singing and dancing and having parties when they’re not hunting cowboys or us kids. Even when they are hunting us they’re having a party.”
“What do the cowboys do?” Preston asked, looking to Peter, though it appeared all the boys had the answers to his questions.
“The cowboys stay in the saloon when they’re not trying to get the Lost Boys or the Indians,” Peter explained. “They pour over books and strategize. The Indians don’t like strategy, they just do what they do and sometimes they win and sometimes they lose, but they just have fun. But the cowboys are always trying to make a plan.”
“Can we start a war with them?” Preston asked, jumping excitedly at the prospect. He could remember a game like this, only not with real cowboys and Indians, with Eva and Peyton where Peyton had been the bad guy and Eva was the princess and Preston had had to save her, but in the end Eva had had to run home for her flute lesson and the game wasn’t much fun without her. But Preston knew enough about this place to know that there were no flute lessons and no one had to go home for dinner.
“They’re at our disposal,” Peter explained as if he could read Preston’s thoughts as he watched through the trees as three grown men wearing rawhide pants and brown jackets with fringe on the sleeves danced around a fire singing. A man walked bravely into the camp; he wasn’t one of the Indians, who stopped abruptly at his arrival. He had a large white cowboy hat on and wore leather pants and big boots. Once he appeared more cowboys emerged. Preston couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a second they seemed as if they were drawing invisible weapons, the cowboys using their hands as guns, the thumbs as triggers as the Indians reached their arms behind their heads to start shooting with invisible bows and arrows.
“What’re they doing?” Preston asked as all four boys stood in the woods, their eyes glued to the battle about to be waged.
“They’re fighting a war,” Peter explained as the Indians began to cry louder, sounding the alarm as the cowboys ran fast at them, making “bang-bang” sounds with their “guns.” They watched for a while, a few cowboys fell over and the Indians dragged them away as one Indian was grabbed by two cowboys and pulled into the forest. They ran around like this, shooting and crying out until finally out of nowhere they stopped, the cowboys who had fallen to the ground got up and walked back to the other side of the clearing to their own kind, and the Indian who’d been captured walked away from the cowboys and back