(Josie
Sayz: This is a story that I began working on several years ago. I am finally
reading through it/editing it. This is a fanfiction piece of what would happen
if two of my favourite characters Peter Pan (from J M Barrie’s book) and Jack
Frost (from ‘Rise of the Guardians’) met, why and what adventure would they go
on. I originally wrote this story as a present for a friend. I have decided to
dig it out and plan to release each chapter as I edit it. This is Chapter One:
‘Just Keep Reading’.
Note:
I do not own Peter Pan or any of the relating characters or places to the
story; these are all owned by J M Barrie and ‘Disney’. I do not own Jack Frost
or any of the relating characters or places to the story; these are all owned
by William Joyce and ‘DreamWorks’.
Chapter One: ‘Just Keep
Reading’ can be found here: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2019/06/saving-neverland-just-keep-reading.html
.)
Meeting and
Greeting
Having
left her parents to argue over the amount of attention the other paid to their
daughter, she snuck off to her room to read. The amusing side to this, she had
told herself, was that while her parents were arguing, neither of them had
noticed that she was no longer present at the dining table. Alone in her room,
she changed into her pyjamas, before curing up into bed and continuing to read
the stories that she had been so engrossed in earlier.
The shadows in her room grew greater. The light from
outside was no longer bright enough to aid to the glimmer of her bedside lamp.
She gave a yawn, before placing both books onto her bedside table. Sliding out
of bed, she made her way over to the window. Leaning over her desk, she pulled
the curtain half open and gazed outside. With a smirk, she grabbed the window’s
handle and pulled it up. She pushed it open with a small grunt, shimmed herself
up onto her desk and poked her head outside. The wind ushered leaves out of trees,
spiralling them around the street. It pinched at her cheeks, as she gave a look
in both directions, before bringing herself back inside. She pulled the window
to, although not all the way. ‘Just in case,’ she told herself, as she glanced
over at her books, wrinkling the cold from her nose.
Once back in bed, the warmth from her body heat’s previous
position blanketed itself around her chilled skin. With the pillow patted, she
lay down her head and with a smile gave a sigh. As she closed her eyes a warm and
familiar thought travelled to the front of her brain: ‘Neverland awaits,’ it
told her. No sooner than when her head had touched the pillow and her eyes were
closed was she set into a deep sleep; her mind far away in the land of wonder,
hope and dreams.
*
Outside
the air grew chilly. The snow from earlier had ceased. Although the rooftops appeared
untouched, flakes still clung to leaves, trees and grasses. With only a few
puddles remaining and the roads clear, no snow would disrupt tomorrows travel.
The sky itself was clear. The moon shone down, with its surrounding star
companions, and the occasional satellite, helping to keep watch on the sleeping
people and animals below.
Stood on the rooftop, leaning against his trusty staff, a
boy allowed himself a laugh, as the golden swirls of magic sand swirled through
the air. “Right on time,” he acknowledged, as he glanced up to check the moon’s
positioning. He slid down the side of the roof and began walking across the
wire of a telephone pole, swiping his staff against the adjacent cable. The
cable cracked. Ice formed around it, dripping down. His feet skipped across the
wire, like a true trapeze artist, but in truth, he had never taken a lesson in
his life. As he reached the telephone pole, he turned back to admire his handy
work. Icicles spread across the cable, but there were no clouds, no rain nor
snow.
His view darkened. He frowned. Spinning around on the
telephone stand, he searched for the light blocker. He gave a gasp, staring up
at the thing before him. A ship. A wooden ship. Floating… just floating in
mid-air. It had to be the length of at least ten semi-detached houses. And with
three giant sheets wafting in the wind. Sailing towards him, the ship’s
fourteen oars on either side rowed away at the air. As it got closer, he could
see a stone merman with skull for a head, complete with eye patch and
tri-cornered hat, wrapped around the bowsprit. ‘This sort of ship hasn’t been
built in nearly three hundred years,’ he realised, gazing at it. He leapt to a
nearby roof to gain a greater look.
A deep voice roared. He flinched. Grabbing out for a
chimney, he steadied his balance. Shaking off his scare he turned back towards
the ship. Its pace fastened. It moved towards him. A cannon edged over the
forecastle deck. The man bellowed again. Bang! A shot fired. A huge ball of
metal raced towards him. He leapt into the air. It skimmed his right trouser
leg.
“Fire!”
he heard the voice thunder. Another blast. A second cannonball sped towards
him. He yelped, darting behind a chimney. Muffled orders were yelled. The ship
began to move. He darted out from hiding. Sliding his staff under his feet, he
used it as a surfboard, riding the waves of the wind. Metal clanked. He spun
around, facing the ship. Over fifteen cannons were aimed towards him. His eyes
widened.
“Fire!”
He
swallowed hard. As the balls blasted towards him, he clapped his legs together,
straightened up and zoomed down, grabbing his staff as he descended. Spotting
an open window, he darted towards it and flung himself inside. Gambolling
through the curtain, he rolled across the desk, before tumbling onto the floor.
*
Thud.
She flinched. Her head twitched towards the window. The curtain wafted. She
sprang upright in bed, her eyes wide and alert. The wind whistled through the
gap in her window. She relaxed her shoulders. ‘You dreamt it,’ she told herself
exhaling. There was a groan. Her spine shuddered. Her heart pounced against her
ribcage. Her knees jumped up to her chest and she clasped her arms around them.
Holding her breath, she peered over the edge of her bed. She gasped. He
flinched, looking up at her.
“Sorry,” he blurted out, reaching his right hand out
towards her. She sniffed and shuffled back against her headboard; her eyes
fixed upon him. He recoiled back his hand, his bright blue eyes transfixed on
hers. Rubbing his left hand against the back of his collar bone, he used his
right to push himself off the floor. “I really am sorry,” he told her. The grip
around her knees tightened, keeping her heart pressed into her chest, as he
took a step towards her. Her lips parted. Flipping up is staff with his foot,
he caught it in his hand, staring at her all the while. “Wait…” he said, more
aimed at himself than her. “You… you can see me?” Her eyes widened as she nodded.
“Really?” he frowned running his hand through his hair.
Examining
his tight, brown trousers, snowy hair and frosted blue hoodie she gasped, “Jack
Frost…” loosening the grip around her knees. He laughed an exhale, stepping
back.
“You,
you know my name?”
“You’re
Jack Frost,” she laughed. Grabbing her glasses off her bedside table, she slid
them up her nose and switched on her bedside lamp. Pushing herself forwards,
she crouched onto her knees. “Please tell me I’m awake,” she muttered, running
her hand across her mouth. Curling her hair behind her ear she breathed,
“You’re real.” His brow creased and his mouth parted.
“You
still believe…?” he whispered. Swallowing, she nodded. “How come…?” His eyes
widened, awaiting her answer. She shrugged. “Most kids know so much nowadays
that they stop believing before their tall enough to ride a roller coaster,” he
told her, whilst tapping his hand horizontally on his lower chest.
She
smirked. “Well, I’m not like everyone else.”
Turning away from him, she stretched her legs over the far
side of the bed and pushed herself up. She slipped her feet into her slippers
and walked over to the wall and switched on the light. As she returned to her
bed he gasped, dropping his staff. He winced as it landed on his foot. Shaking
the pain in his foot away he turned to the girl. “I know you,” he told her,
clicking his fingers as he pointed at her. She frowned.
“How?”
“Earlier,”
he began as he perched on the edge of her bed. “Outside that school… you were
with that bunch of kids…” Her eyes widened as she watched him explain. He was
wide awake, full of energy and life; watching him made her eye lids heavy and a
yawn sneak its way into her mouth. “Walking and reading a book,” he went on.
“You looked kinda sad, so I threw a snowball at you to try and cheer you up.”
Her forehead wrinkled as she whimpered.
“That
was you?” she exclaimed.
“Yeah,
and then I saw you later on at the park…” Ignoring her obvious objection to his
tale, his rambled thought- process continued, “Reading another book… again with
that same group.” His hands dropped to his sides. Staring at a loose thread on
her duvet he mumbled, “It was all my fault.” He swallowed, rubbing the back of
his neck. With her lips parted and head tilted to one side, she stared at him.
Seeing her as he lifted his head, he went on: “I tried to lighten the
situation, you know,” With a click of his fingers, he circled his wrist and a
snowball appeared in his hand. “But it only made things worse… I’m sorry.”
Pinching his eyes shut, he lowered his head. The snowball rolled onto the floor.
“It’s
okay,” she shrugged, forcing her mouth to upturn at one corner.
Both staring at different sections of the duvet, they sat
in silence. Words, questions, thoughts buzzed around her mind, but the silence
that they had created felt unbreakable. Every second longer that they remained
muted, made it even harder for her to think of something to say. ‘What can
I say?’ her brain screamed. ‘He’s Jack Frost. Say something… anything…’
Her foot began tapping against her bed, while she rubbed her fingers back and
forth through a section of hair. The speed of her drumming foot increased,
along with her fingers frizzing at her hair and the pulsing of her heart.
“Hey,” she heard him say. She glanced in his direction.
“You’re dog’s one mighty brave warrior.” Meeting his eyes, she felt her cheeks
heat up, as she managed a smirk. “He was the one who charged in and saved the
day. I’ve never seen anyone as territorial as him.” She lowered her head,
sensing her blush burning stronger, as she smiled to his reference of Sparky as
being a ‘he’, as opposed to an ‘it’, like the many others who often angered her
when talking about dogs. “He had a little help from a few of these I might
add…” She looked up to see Jack armed with another snowball. Seeing her look
his way, he threw it at her.
“Hey!”
she laughed, brushing the snow from her hair.
Scratching
the back of his head, his eyes darted back to the loose thread on her
bedcovers. “You know, I really am sorry, err… erm…” His eyes squinted
and his brow lined as he tilted his head towards her. “Hey, what is your
name?”
“Mary
Isabelle McCormick,” she said, as she screwed her nose up. “But my mother
insists on calling me Mim.” Rolling her eyes, she groaned. The creases on his
brow thickened. “My initials… but I prefer Izz.” Pinching in her lips, she gave
a shrug. “It kinda sounds neutral.”
His
eyebrows slanted upward, as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look I’m terribly
sorry Izz.” Shoving his hands into his hoodie’s pocket he shrugged. “I really
was only trying to help. It’s just the crowd that you were hanging out with,
they looked so miserable.” Pulling a hand out of his pocket, he ran his fingers
through his hair. After a deep exhale, he cocked his head to one side. “But
something still looks different about you…” She frowned at him, as he brought
his hand across his face, tapping his index finger against his lip.
“Oh…
it’s my glasses,” she smiled. Grabbing the arm of her frames she pulled them
off. “Better?” He gave a slow nod, as his smile crept back on his face.
“But
wh-”
“I
wear contacts,” she said with a nervous laugh. “But ‘cause I don’t have them
in, I just grabbed my glasses so I could see clearly. I’m as blind as a bat
without them.”
Wafting the glasses at her side, she bit her bottom lip,
debating whether to return them to her face. Turning to her bedside cabinet,
she pulled open the drawer, shoved her glasses inside and popped open the
container to her contact lenses. “So,” she began as she poked her finger
towards her eye. Jack winced, pinching his eyes shut. “What are you doing
here?” Rising from the bed he turned to the window. He leant over her desk to
pull back the curtain.
Peering
outside her asked her, “You didn’t hear it?”
“Hear
what?” With both her contact lenses in place she turned towards him. Letting
the curtain fall from his hands he returned his sight towards her.
“The
cannons.” Izz stared at him and gripped her right elbow with her left hand. She
gave a shrug. “There’s a huge ship out there,” he told her, throwing his arms
towards the window. “A flying ship. The thing’s loaded and there’s someone on
there who was trying to kill me!” he exclaimed, clasping a hand to his chest.
“A
flying ship…” she repeated, frowning. “You mean a spaceship?”
“No,”
he said shaking his head. He gave a sigh and threw up his hands. “Like a boat,
a huge thing with three masts and sails and oars and cannons and-”
“Jack,”
she interrupted with a nervous giggle. “There’s no such thing as a flying
boat.”
“I
know,” he said through gritted teeth. “But-”
A neigh sounded at the window. They both flinched. Hooves
galloped. A shadow flashed across the curtain. Wind whisked past the window.
There was a scream. Jack kicked up his staff. Izz gasped, stepping closer to
him. Another shadow came into view. It got closer. Closer. Closer. Jack stood
in front of her. It filled the window frame. The curtain puckered up. He angled
his staff towards it. A pointed moss-coloured hat and red feather poked out
from under the drape. A head of auburn hair followed. A coated, tree-trunk-brown
body flew through the curtain, rolled across the desk and onto the floor. Jack
held an arm across Izz, protecting her from the stranger. He poked out his
staff and gave the boy on the ground a nudge. The boy jumped up at once. “It’s
after me,” he cried.
“What’s
after you?” asked Jack, holding his staff steady with both hands. Looking up at
them, the boy shrugged. Pushing his hands to the floor, he leapt up.
“It
was huge… this big,” he indicated, holding his hands apart at almost five times
his width. “It was horse-like, but not like no horses I’ve ever seen…” He
wavered his hands across his body, before folding them over his chest. Turning
to the window, his hands fell to his sides. His eyes widened as his bottom lip
trembled. “A, an, and…” he stuttered. “It was covered in… in… in…” he scratched
his head, wrinkling his features as searching for the right word.
“Covered
in what?” asked Jack, leaning forwards, eyes wide.
“Black
sand,” said the boy with a click of his fingers.
“Pitch.”
Having kept silent since his arrival, Izz stepped out from
Jack’s protection. Her drum rapped against her ribcage. Her tongue scraped
against the roof of her mouth. She swallowed hard as she approached him. “Peter…?”
she said, pinching her nails into her arm, making sure that she was still
awake. “Peter Pan…?”
“That’s
right,” he replied with a grin and a nod. “Who are you?” Unable to control her
fluttering eyelashes, she forced herself to swallow again.
Holding
a hand to her chest, she told him, “I’m Izz,” knowing full well that Peter
would not want to hear her full name. “And this is Jack, Jack Frost,” she held
her arm out towards Jack on her left.
“Please
to meet you both,” he said with a nod.
“Jack
this is Peter Pan…” she told him; her mouth stretched as far as it could.
“How
do you two know each other?” asked Jack, leaning against his staff, shoving one
hand in his hoodie’s pocket.
“We
don’t,” Peter declared. Sticking his nose in the air, Peter crossed his arms.
“I
know Peter the same way that I know you,” she told Jack. “Through your
stories.”
“Our
stories…?” Jack replied with a frown.
Izz turned her back to the boys and approached her bedside
table. With the ceiling light now on, she switched her lamp off, picking up the
two books that she had left beside it. Returning to her position between the
boys, she held up both books for them to see. “This is the most recent story of
Peter Pan’s adventures” she said waving about the book in her right hand.
Staring at the book’s cover, Peter gave an interested hum, while he curled his
finger over his chin. “And this is the most recent of your adventures,
Jack,” she said shaking the book in her left hand.
“Wait…”
Jack gasped, jerking his head up from the book to face her. “There are books…
about me…?”
“Uh
huh,” she nodded, bringing the back of the book up to see the blurb. “About
your adventures and playing pranks on people – especially the Easter Bunny,”
she said with a giggle. “And about when you became a guardian and helped fight
off Pitch Black, gave snow days to needy children, helped break the record for
the world’s biggest snowman… and longest snowball fight.”
“Wow,
really, but, but how?” She smirked, holding out the book. Resting his staff in
the nook of his elbow, he took the book with both hands. His eyes shimmered
over the cover, before he flipped the book over to examine at the back.
“The
Sandman,” Izz added with a grin. “He writes about the adventures of all of the
guardians, but especially you, Jack.” Glancing up from the book, his lips
parted as he gazed at her. He watched her cheeks redden as she stared back.
“What about me?” asked Peter, swiping the book about him
out of Izz’s hand. Izz and Jack both flinched. Their heads jerked in Peter’s
direction. Peter’s attention was drawn to the book, as he flicked open the
pages, fanning himself. Curling a fallen piece of hair behind her ear, Izz
neared the other boy.
“There’re
loads of stories about you too, Peter,” she told him. She took the book from
his hands. His eyes squinted at her, but before Peter could interject, she turned
the book around the right way and handed it him back. “You had it upside down,
silly,” she giggled. Brushing a hand through his hair, he smirked.
“I
knew that,” he retorted with a swipe of his hand.
“Bet
you did,” muttered Jack under his breath. Izz jerked her head towards him and
wrinkled her nose. Jack shrugged in reply.
“There
are even more stories about you,” Izz exclaimed, as she revealed the top two
shelves of her bookcase. Peter’s mouth froze open. He gave a gasp as he dropped
the book and flew over to the bookcase. Pointing out different books, Izz told
him, “This is about your flights through Neverland; these are your adventures
with the Lost Boys; making peace with the natives; teasing the crocodiles;
swimming with the mermaids; hunting for treasure; discovering the Never Peak
and fighting with Captain Hook.”
“That
codfish,” cursed Peter, punching his fist across the air. His body followed his
punch as he spun towards the window.
Scratching his head, Peter spun around on his heel to face
her, “Who knows so much about all my adventures.”
“Mr.
Smee, of course,” she exclaimed, bending down to collect her book. “Captain
Hook’s right-hand man. I just loved the part about the Black Castle-”
“What
Black Castle?” said Peter with haste, leaping to her side. “There is no Black
Castle in Neverland.”
“But
Mr. Smee says that they’ve found it.” She brushed her book and returned it to
her bedside table. Grabbing a hair bobble beside her lamp, she scraped her
thumbs across the top hemisphere of her scalp and tied the upper half of her
hair up, as she continued, “Although he wouldn’t reveal the castle’s location,
Mr. Smee did say that while Captain Hook was busy trying to throw you off his
ship, a huge octopus crashed against the side of the boat, throwing it, and many
of the crew, into a deep current. After crashing against rocks and cliff’s
edges they eventually came across it.”
“But
that happened just last week,” Peter said with a frown.
“Really?”
she gasped, her eyes widening. “Wow…”
Bellowed laughter echoed through the window. Their
conversation fell silent. All heads turned towards the curtain. “I recognise
that voice,” Jack whispered. His brow puckered. Gripping his staff, he leapt
onto the desk and crouched at the sound’s entrance.
“Me
too,” agreed Peter. Leaning over the edge of the desk, he folded his arms,
flattened his stomach across the table and rested his chin on his hands.
Holding her breath, Izz tugged at the cuffs of her sleeves, pulling them around
her hands. Biting her bottom lip, she clawed her nails into palms.
“At last… I was beginnin’ to think you wouldn’t
show,” proclaimed a voice; his tone gruff and vowel sounds elongated. A second
voice gave a cackle.
“Oh
I’m here alright… I wouldn’t pass off this opportunity,” said the second, with
a hint of smugness, as he ended his sentence with a slight laugh. The
pronunciation of each of his words reminded Izz of someone of high education,
whereas the first she could have mistaken him to be mocking stereotypical view
of a seventeenth century pirate. The creases on Jack’s forehead deepened. He
moved his head closer to the window. “I just had a little… pest to take
care of,” continued the second voice. “But my Nightmare should have gotten rid
of him.” He gave another chuckle.
“Good
to know,” replied the first. “I ‘ad a little pest problem myself,” he snarled.
“Oh?”
added the second man, with a curious tone.
“Don’t
worry me friend…” he added with haste. “The cannons shoulda taken care o’ him.”
The pair began to cackle once more, when a third voice
spoke up: “Oh yes, you s, s, sure took care of th, the, that Peter Pan, sir. B,
b, blasted him into space, I dare say.”
“Smee,”
gasped Peter, recognising the stutterer’s thick Irish accent.
“Peter
Pan?” Jack whispered, confused by the Irishman’s observation. ‘It was me
they were blasting… and Pitch’s Nightmare… that was-’
“With
Frost and Pan out of the way,” spoke the second voice. Upon hearing their
conversation continue Jack flinched, shaking his head. “I don’t see how our
plan could possibly fail.” Izz and her two new companions gasped.
“Did
you ‘ear something?” the first man blurted out with speed. Izz clasped her
hands to her mouth, as Peter pushed himself up from the desk and Jack withdrew
from the window. Backing away from the desk, both Peter and Jack turned towards
her.
“Sorry,”
she mouthed, even though they too were to blame for the noise. Jack shook his
head at her, placing a hand upon her shoulder.
Peter
neared her other side, nudged her with his elbow and whispered, “It’s not your
fault.”
After a moment’s pause, the conversation outside
continued. “Aye,” came the gruff remark from the first man. “The destruction o’
Neverland and all children’s hopes an’ dreams is a go.”
“This
time tomorrow, Hook, you and I shall rule the skies,” beamed the second. “There
won’t be a child who doesn’t fear us.”
“Oh
dear,” mumbled the Irishman. “B, b, but c, cap’in-”
“Smee!”
bellowed the one known as Hook.
“Ye,
ye, yes sir,” came his reply.
“Tell
Starkey t’ set course,” Hook ordered. “We’re ready t’ take off. To Neverland!”
“Aye,
aye c, cap’in, yes sir.”
Wind gushed against the window. The curtain blustered in
the breeze. “Row you blithering idiots,” came a distant shout. Running a hand
through his hair, Jack began to pace.
“Did
you hear that?” he exclaimed, turning towards Izz. “That was Pitch-”
“Hook,”
Peter cried over the top of him. The two twitched their heads in the other’s
direction and squinted their eyes. Scrunching up their features, they held
their glares for a couple of seconds, before breaking away. “They’re going to
destroy Neverland,” Peter wailed, gripping Izz’s upper arms and shaking her.
“I
know,” was all she could manage to reply. Her heart thudded against her
ribcage. Forcing herself to swallow she pinched her eyes tight, trying to hold
back the stinging water that was attempting to creep over her eye’s rim. Her
bottom lip trembled as she stared at Peter. ‘Destroy Neverland,’ her brain
repeated. ‘It’s real. It’s all real…’ Her stomach spiralled, swirling
her insides around her body. Her legs began to tingle, as though spiders were
crawling up her skin. She shuddered.
“Neverland?” she heard Jack exclaim. “All of children’s
hopes, wishes and dreams are about to be destroyed and you’re busy worrying
about-”
“Neverland
is my home,” Peter shouted back, chest pressed out, his fists clenched and face
red. “It’s where the Lost Boys live and the fairies an’ mermaids an’ animals
an’ redskins…”
“It’s
a place where all children dream, Jack,” Izz interrupted, sensing the tension
rise between the two boys. She passed them as she spoke and neared her
bookcase. Crouching down, she removed a narrow, but large book that lay at a
horizontal angle on the bottom shelf. She sat on the floor, curing her legs
around her and laid the book out in front of her. “Here,” she spoke, as she
lifted the front cover. With a slight creak the spine of the book turned. Paper
propped up, forming a three-dimensional image. “This is a map of Neverland,”
she said pointing at the leaning star-shaped island, spread out across the
double page. Staring at the book, Jack sat beside her. Peter perched on the
edge of Izz’s desk to observe. “Of course, every child’s Neverland is
different. They each add to the land in their dreams… making it their own.” Staring
in the top left-hand corner, she led Jack through the many parts of Neverland,
naming them all as they went along: from the Redskin Camp they past Pixie
Hollow and crossed Cannibal Cove. After passing Pegleg Point and clambering
through the Neverwood, they arrived at the Never Peak, before sliding down to
Hangman’s Trees. After that, they swam from Marooners Rock, which soon led to
Mermaid Lagoon, before finishing upon Skull Island. “Neverland is such a vast
place, meaning many things to many children,” she said as she traced their
venture. “Without it…” She exhaled as she looked up, first and Peter, who
nodded, then at Jack beside her. “There will be no dreams.”
“Only
nightmares,” Jack added.
Closing her book, Izz slid it back in place on her shelf.
Standing up, she stared ahead at her books, her expression frozen. Clawing her
fingernails into her palms she admitted, “I’m afraid, I believe Hook and Pitch
have been planning this a while,” she confessed.
“What?!”
exclaimed the boys in unison.
“How
could you know?” asked Jack, although the harshness in his tone made it sound
more of a demand than a question. Tugging at her sleeves, Izz turned around.
Without looking at either of the boys, she walked straight past them to her
bedside cabinet. Picking up both of her most recent novels about the two boys,
she sat on the edge of her bed. She felt her chest quiver, as she took in
short, shallow breaths. Placing one book on her pillow, she flicked through the
other, shaking her head all the while.
“Here,”
she murmured; her voice no louder than the squeak of a mouse. As she pointed to
a place in her book Jack sat down beside her. Peter wandered towards them and
stood over her. He looked down at the book, scratched the back of his head then
returned his sight to Izz. “In his last book that The Sandman wrote-” She
paused. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, trying to stop the tremble in her voice.
“He told of how he encountered Pitch.”
“What?”
Jack gasped. “Where? When? Why didn’t he tell-”
Izz
shook her head. “He didn’t think that it was worth bothering any of you. After
all, North is busy planning for Christmas, you have the northern hemisphere to
freeze, Tooth is always busy, and he probably didn’t think that the
Easter Bunny would believe him.” Jack opened his mouth to object, but Izz
continued, “It was only briefly. The Sandman said he spotted him speaking to
another man… one dressed in a long red jacket, with a tri-coned hat. His Nightmares
were nowhere in sight, so the Sandman decided not to look into it too deeply… just
monitor the situation.” Looking up at Jack she gave a weak smile, wrinkling her
brow.
She closed her book and swapped it for the other. Jack
rested his hand on her shoulder as she shuddered. She turned to him and forced
the right side of her mouth to smile, before returning her eyes to her book.
Brushing her thumb across the pages, she fanned the book in front of her. As
the book landed open, she licked her thumb and flicked back several pages.
Raising her head to Peter she said, “There’s evidence of Hook too.” With his
hands on his hips, Peter nodded, awaiting the report of Hook’s part in the
plot. Tracing her finger across the page, Izz revealed, “Mr. Smee mentioned
something to do with trying to trace Neverland’s core.”
“Core?”
Peter tilted his head to one side as he stared at her.
“It’s
like a centre,” Izz explained. “The heart of Neverland. Captain Hook
seems to believe that it’s some form of mineral… and they’ve been out searching
for it, for ways to get hold of it.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him.
She blinked hard, several times to try to stop her eyes from filling up.
Staring ahead at the window she told him: “He’s searching for what Mr. Smee
believes to be the Philosopher’s Stone.”
“How?
Why? He can’t!” Peter objected. As he spoke, he levitated towards the ceiling.
“Without that… Neverland…” His eyes began to twinkle and his bottom lip quaked.
Scrunching his eyes shut he spun away from them. Pressing his feet together, he
folded his arms.
“I
thought so, Peter,” Izz mumbled, bringing a shaking thumb to her face to wipe
away a drip of water that trickled down her cheek.
She sensed Jack turn from Peter to her. She forced herself
to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, before attempting to explain
what she knew. She turned to Jack. “The Philosopher’s Stone… it’s a legendary
rock, which is supposed to hold eternal life to the owner, once it’s in their
possession. Others believe it can turn lead into gold. People have searched for
hundreds of years for the Stone, but no one’s ever found it. Many believe that
the Stone is what keeps life frozen in Neverland, for no one who lives there
ever grows old.” Jack’s mouth froze open, as he stared at her. She felt his
eyes burn against her skin, as she returned her sight to the pages of her book.
“Up until now, I thought they were just stories…” Izz sniffed. She pinched her
eyes shut and slammed the book tight. “Now I see the connection between them.”
“We have to stop them,” Peter declared, as he spun around
to face them. Once Peter had lowered himself back to the ground, Jack gave him
a firm nod. “Come on,” he said holding his hand out to Izz.
“Come
on?” she repeated with a frown. “Come where?”
“Where?”
Peter laughed. “Why, to Neverland of course. We need to stop Hook and his new
evil companion from destroying it.”
Jack
stepped forward. With his elbow bent and one hand facing the ceiling, he
shrugged. “But how d’you get there?” he asked, letting his hand drop to his
side. “I’ve been all over the world and I’ve never seen it.”
Turning
to Jack, Peter cocked a grin on the side of his face and said, “Second to the
right and straight on ‘til morning.” He took a leap towards the window and
tugged back the curtain.
“Second
what to where?” Jack whispered clawing a hand through his hair, as he watched
Peter at the window. He turned to Izz and forced a smile, as best he could, but
his raised eyebrows refused to lower.
“Only
Peter knows,” she whispered back with a shrug. She turned to Peter, unable to
remove the smile that stretched across her face.
“C’mon,” Peter groaned, curling his arm towards himself,
trying to wave them over. Crouching on Izz’s desk he shoved the window as far
open as its hinges would allow. “We’re wastin’ time.”
“But
Peter, I can’t go with you,” Izz told him. She shook her, as her mouth turned
down at the corners.
“Why
not?” he asked whizzing around to face her.
“We
need you,” Jack told her. “You’re the only one who knows both Pitch and
Hook. And better yet, you know about this Hook’s hideout – the Black Castle.
You can’t not come.” She looked from Jack to Peter, their eyes pleading for her
to join them. Pinching her lips together she turned away from them. Feeling her
chest jitter, she held her breath.
“I
can’t,” she repeated. “I can’t go, because I can’t fly.”
“Of
course you can,” said Peter, leaping from the desk to her side. Placing a hand
to her shoulder, he turned her around to face him. He curled a finger under her
chin and lifted her head up towards his. He gave a cheeky grin and she smirked
back. “That’s better,” he said as her smile returned. Taking her left hand in
his right he told her, “Just think of a wonderful thought.”
“But
Peter-” she began in protest.
“All
you need is faith and trust.” He squeezed her hand tight and brought it up,
close to his chest. She felt her cheeks redden.
“You
forgot pixie dust,” she giggled. Peter clicked his thumb and fingers on his
left hand. Letting go of Izz, he turned away to the window.
“Of
course,” he groaned. “I forgot… I don’t have any…”
“Forget
the flying,” Jack snapped. Peter turned back, facing them both. “I’ll carry
her.”
“But
you can’t possibly carry me all the way,” she objected.
“Then
we’ll take turns,” Peter told her. “Now let’s go,” he said as he hopped back
onto the desk.
“Wait!” Izz cried. The two boys turned towards her. “I
can’t just go. What about my parents, or Sparky or school tomorrow? Who knows
how long we’ll be.”
“Don’t
worry,” Jack told her with enthusiasm. “Leave it to me.” Leaping onto the desk,
Jack soared through the window. Holding his staff above his head, he shouted,
“Snow day!” Billions of snowflakes cascaded down from the sky. Izz and Peter
gasped in awe, as they leant out of the window frame. Holding their hands out,
flakes of snow danced on the tips of their skin.
“Wow,”
Izz breathed.
“Snow,”
whispered Peter, unable to believe what Jack had just done. “Actual snow.”
“I
know,” Jack laughed, settling into a seating position in mid-air beside them.
“This
still doesn’t do anything about my parents,” she reminded him. Jack gave a
shrug.
“They’ll
never know you were gone.”
Backing away from the window, her eyes rested upon the wood
of her desk. Staring at a knot her thoughts rushed back to teatime with her
parents. ‘They barely notice me when I am here,’ Izz acknowledged, recalling
how her mother had suggested that she invited Susie and Marissa over, as if she
were friends with them. She gave a slight hum. ‘Maybe Jack’s right…’ she
thought. ‘And… he did say they need my help.’ Inhaling, she looked up, first at
Jack, then Peter. She gave a nod. “Okay,” she told them.
“Yes,”
cheered Peter, shooting out of the window and into the night sky. Jack smiled
and held his hand out towards her.
“Welcome
aboard Izz.”
- Josie -
