Second Light- Chapter 2 UPDATED

On the bright side, he had never felt more grateful of having a bigger, older boy like George as a friend to protect him. He had never fought anyone before, and the only way he sort of learned how to was through watching John fight the other boys, which scared him even more of the outcome. He could only hope that his confidence would come back soon, or maybe he would suddenly be bigger and strong enough to scare John away. Those were his only chances, but after passing the big window as he went through the daily routine, he thought of the most absurd option-

 Why not leave the orphanage for a little bit, and then come back later? The nuns wouldn’t mind.

His good conscience immediately retorted: Are you mad?!? Of course the nuns would notice! Have you seen how I look so different?  They would see in an instant. They know me too well anyway.

Then he realized: “Maybe Sister Deborah can help… She can make a sort of cover for you.

… Yeah, maybe…

Sister Deborah was the only nun David actually considered a “mother” and true friend. When David was a baby, he would cry a lot, so most of the nuns wanted to take care of him. Each nun tried their own methods to stop the crying, but only Sister Deborah’s method actually worked. In order to fulfill her desire of being outside of the Monastery and cure baby David of his crying, she would walk him in a carriage through the loud, bustling market place. Yet as soon as the practice became habitual, the Mother of the Nunnery forbade her from this practice, for some reason.

            As David got older, and not be able to go with her on her walks, she would bring him little trinkets from her journeys in the market, like brightly colored toys, miniature figurines of kings and queens, and once, an old pipe flute for David to play music with. But most importantly, she would bring him books. Whether old or new, they signified a peek into the world around him, and what was beyond Country Street., even England herself. He would read them all under the faint glow of his lantern, tucked away during the day and loyally gave light when it was dark. 

He decided that he would ask for her help later, as now he wasn’t sure what time was best- during a recess or breakfast. His thought processes were stopped abruptly by a sight too surprising to be true.

“George,” David asked, in a shocked voice. “Why are you putting on your Sunday clothes… on a Monday?”

George shrugged “The nuns told me that I’m meeting ‘hopefuls’ today. So they made me wear this.”  According to the boys in the orphanage, “Hopefuls” are couples that are hopeful of adopting a child, hence the name.

“When are you meeting them,” David asked as he put on his wrinkly white shirt.

“Don’t know, George said dreadfully. “You know the nuns, not telling us anything-” David nodded- “but…”- George put on the nosy and nasal accent of Sister Agnes- “‘do this,’ ‘do that,’ ‘be clean and presentable,’ ‘learn this’-”

“I get it, I get it,” David said between chuckles. “Do you have any idea as of when?”

“Maybe in the afternoon, sometime,” George said as he was putting on his shoes.

Then he realized- “They won’t come during the fight, will they?” He asked that with a sudden concern.

It was known that when “hopefuls” visited, chances were that they adopted the boy they asked for.

“I hope not. You can never be sure about this kind of thing.”

“I certainly hope not. I really need you there for me.” He was thinking more serious thoughts, though.

No. It can’t be happening. I can’t lose George, not now. I’d be so alone and have no chance against John and everyone else.

George could only watch as his friend’s eyes watered up; he knew that David wouldn’t want to lose a friend. He stood up and put his hands on David’s shorter, lankier shoulders.

“Don’t feel too bad for yourself, David,” he said, slowly shrugging his head. “You know how well you can do without me.”

David sniffled and shook his head, fighting back the tears. “Yeah, right, like the way I did before? I can’t do that, George. You know that.”

 “David, look at me. Listen, you are just as capable by yourself as you let yourself be. Don’t think you need me to help you. Besides, I can’t fight the fight for you. I hate to say this, but you’ve got to be your own fighter now, anyway.”

“Thanks for the sage advice,” David choked. “But promise me you won’t leave.” For his size he had a look of fierce determination firing out of his shiny colored eyes, something very rare to see.

Yet George still couldn’t be so sure.

“I… I don’t think I can, David.”

The room was silent. Everyone else had left, putting an uncomfortable silence put between them.

“I’ve got to go… talk to a Sister about something. See you later, George,” David said feebly, while quickly turning away, returning to his routine, pretending as if that conversation never happened. He was in such a state of distress, trying to pretend that it would all be okay, that George would stay and help him in the fight.

That moment would stay with David for the rest of his life, because after that conversation, he never saw George again. Rumor was that George wanted to say goodbye to everyone after the grown-ups signed the papers -none involving him-, but the Nuns and his “parents” refused. He was, however allowed to write a letter to them, but his parents stopped him abruptly because they were “running late”, as if they had somewhere important to go.

            The couple’s last name was “Darling” and they seemed like anything but. They were a posh and snobby couple who only cared for 2 things in their new child: 1) That he could inherit their wealth and be a successful businessman and 2) be a high class, high ranking “gentleman”, which for them meant having posh and snobby friends, throwing posh and snobby parties and sticking that posh and snobby attitude into the noses of anyone whom they thought was lower than them. It was everything George didn’t want to be, yet he had no say in the matter.

David had found out about George too late to see him leave, during the first Bible class. He bolted for the entranceway, while two nuns chased after trying to stop him from going out the door, but as David burst through the double doors and turned the corner to catch up to the carriage, it was gone.

He stopped and stared in its direction in disbelief.

He’s gone. George is gone. I never even got to say goodbye…

Tears streamed down his face, which was now buried in his hands. He didn’t care if anyone else heard his sobs. It was the first time in his life that David truly felt alone. He would always remember that feeling, that mind-numbing loneliness that comes with not having anyone else to truly care for, or be cared by, to share secrets and dreams with or to make stories and laugh with.

The Nuns saw him come back towards the building, but he was inconsolable. He had lost his true friend, and the only thing he could think of was… running away?

So he did. He sprinted as fast as he could, away from the orphanage. He never wanted to stop. The sound of his shoes smacking the ground was the only sound he heard, the sights of only what was directly in front of him. Sometime later, he came back to his senses and slowed down, letting himself take a breather and an eye drying.

Yet the realization never escaped him that he had ran from his first fight by completely abandoning the orphanage, which was tantamount to huge amounts of trouble from a child’s perspective. To be in that much trouble, it was better that he never go back there again, which he was fine with.

Well, at least I now know that I’m ‘perfectly capable’ of doing things without George. David was amused by that statement while weaving through crowds, turning on any roads he could, all for the sake of finding a solace for himself- the marketplace he had gone to so long ago. He had known about that when Sister Deborah had told him so long ago:

“You know David,” Sister Deborah said as she tucked him. “I used to bring you outside all of the time.”

“You did?” He had asked at the time, while he still didn’t have all of his baby teeth.

“Yes. I used to bring you to all of the shops and the parks. You wanted to go, you almost fell out a couple of times. You’re very lucky that I was there to catch you.”

“Really? We went outside? So why don’t we still go?”

“Well my baby, the other nuns didn’t like that you were being brought to the outside world. And you know what, my child?”

“What, Sister?”

“They were right. I’m so happy to see you growing where I can see you and leave you knowing you’re safe. That reminds me… I have a surprise for you. One of the younger nuns told me that there’s a really nice place I’ve found in a crack-in-the-wall, on the side of the Market Square, that has great non-fiction books, and she got some for you…”

As he ran towards more populated areas of the city, he noticed something else. The world seemed so much brighter outside, like in his dreams. No more black, white and grey shades of dull; now there were bright colors of people’s outfits, of people’s flowers outside of windows, even the sky seemed a brighter shade of grey, with the sun peeking out from the clouds here and there.

“Imagine,” he thought. “I would be in class right now, instead of seeing all of this.”

This made him feel happier and happier about his decision. He couldn’t help but slow down to notice some things he couldn’t see from his window; a young mother pushing a baby carriage, a policeman walking down the road while swinging his baton, whistling an unknown tune and minding his own business, people in carriages and pushing carts moving up and down the streets and more . And this was only on one street in London!

 “This is so exciting. I wonder how much more exciting the marketplace is!”

He could barely contain his excitement. He was so happy that he forgot about everything else, including George and where he was going to live. Consequently, he left his observation spot on the side of the road and continued running in whatever direction he chose.

So David kept running, holding onto the feelings of excitement, until he finally realized that he wasn’t getting anywhere. So he walked to the coffee house on the corner across the street, chose a man who seemed nice, and approached him.

“Excuse me, sir.”

The mustached man turned around and seemed surprised that he was being asked something from the boy.

“Yes, what is it, child,” he said calmly, holding his cane in his left hand.

“Do you know how I could get to the marketplace from here?”

The man looked at David strangely. “Are you from around here?”

David nodded. “Yes.”

“So how can you possibly not know where the center of town is?”

David’s smile vapourized. “Well, you know Mums like that,” David chuckled nervously. “-Keeping a perfectly capable son away from all the dangers out there, while,” -David tugged at the collar of his shirt- “forcing them to wear ridiculous clothes. You would understand.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” the man said as he took some weight off of his cane. “But I can sympathize with your plight. Now let’s see…” He looked around and pointed to the street to David’s right. He followed the finger and looked down that street.

“Take that road for a few blocks, and then make a right, then a left. It should be right in front of you. Otherwise, just look for the carts. They should lead you right there.”

“Thank you very much Sir,” David said as he turned towards the street, before he turned around to wave and say “Have a nice day!”

The man waved back, while his young assistant came out, holding a licorice.

“Who was that, Sir?”

“Someone I’ll never know, dear boy. But I know this.” The man looked up to the bright sky.

“He chose a perfectly good day to leave the orphanage. I just hope no policemen find him.”

…

David followed the man’s instructions, only making a detour when he saw some menacing-looking policeman inspecting the street. At one point he had to hide as he saw a policeman pulling a boy younger than David -with blonde hair and a weird hat- by the collar towards, seemingly, the station. This scared David to a point where he hid for a while in between two buildings, amongst some other boys, before mustering up the courage to get up and carry on his journey.

As he turned the corner he saw the carts, filled with doohickeys and produce. David was amazed; never had he seen a sight like this so up close, nor at all. He could only get what he could’ve viewed from the window of the sleeping quarters. As he followed the carts, he passed some old ladies gibbering on a faded bench. He saw bands of kids s they snatched wallets from rich men as they walked across the street. He pushed and inched through the crowds, the throngs, of people all seemingly going in different directions, just to keep up.

 He walked through the traffic, and as he got closer a look of amazement formed on his face.

He did it.

He found it.

He really FOUND it!!

David was overjoyed, the main-square opened wide in front of him, as full as ever with people and carts moving from place to place, a statue in the middle of the square -“Looks like a soldier”- looming over the populace, and noises and smells from the sellers and buyers alike.

“Potatoes, over here! Three pounds a bag! Only got the best!”

“Fruit here!! Fresh exotic fruit! Never tasted anythin’ like it! Only seven pounds a fruit!! Get ‘em before they’re gone!!”

“New toys for gi’ls and boys! Excitin’ an’ cheap! Get ‘em ‘ere!!”

As he walked further and further in, eager to take this scene all in, he was pushed by the mob into an alley way. There he saw a few things; a tucked away book store and a few little boys sharing what little amount of food they had on a dilapidated table, sitting on the matching chairs. That reminded David’s stomach.

What am I going to eat? HOW am I going to get anything? I don’t have any money on me!

 To solve that problem, David made a mental note of the alley way and continued down the other road, on which the market extended.

The market seemed to be split into various products; a produce section, a furniture section and so on. David found the produce section sat down on the curb while his eyes scanned for anyone with the money and a heart to give, then asked them for some.

“Excuse me sir, but can you help me? I need something to eat-wait up sir!”

At some points he asked himself why he would put himself through such shame, to beg for money.

“Excuse me sir, can you spare a sickle? Can you hear me? Sir, wait!”

Yet he didn’t care; all he cared about was getting something to eat.

After a while, he gave up and rested his head in his hands, all while thinking about how he was going to get some help. He didn’t even see the cart coming. It rolled down the street at an unusual speed, when it suddenly swerved to miss David at the last second and jarred the produce in the back. David had dove aside only to get up and see some of the fruits lying on the ground. Before long, a swarm of children came from nowhere and leapt at them. David had to wrestle one of the fruits away from one of the boys before doing only what had become instinctive; return the lost item back to the owner.

“Sir, wait!” David screamed at the driver, “You dropped this!”

The cart was out of sight by the time David finished. He then looked at the apple and was actually not sure what to do. Then it hit him.

This apple’s owner is out of sight by now, and there’s NO way we’ll find him! Besides, this apple looks absolutely delicious.

So David went to the side of the street, back onto a calmer path of people, looked around for a place to sit, polished the apple with his shirt, and took a huge bite. It was the sweetest, most delicious thing he ever had, the fruit bursting with sweet juices and enjoyable crunches. The orphanage never supplied apples, yet he had known about them from the rich hopefuls who’d give a whole bunch to the boys. He took each bite very slowly, chewing it and relishing the delicious tastes.

He went back to the alley way, finishing the apple from top to bottom. The boys now were on their way deeper into the alleyway, and instead he saw that same bookstore, now with a worn-out sign in front of it -“Ichabod’s Books”. 

This store intrigued David because it seemed that there weren’t any book stores to be found in the marketplace, and books were one of the few things he truly loved. He went closer to the store, but as he got closer he noticed someone sitting inside, ominously, almost as if he was just a shadow. He looked like a younger man when in fact he was bent over in the way old people usually do, with greying hair that reflected from light shining from over the alleyway.

Then the old man looked David’s way.

“What’s your name, little boy?”

David was startled, and took a step back in alarm.

The man didn’t seem to move.

“I can assure you, I won’t come out,” The man said calmly, in a raspy old voice. “I don’t mean any harm.”

David suddenly felt a chill down his spine. He was too scared to answer.

“Ichabod.”

“What?” Now David was a little confused.

“Ahem, my name is Ichabod Holton.”

So he must be the book store owner, obviously.

David, in a fit of what must have been sheer over-confidence, spoke without thinking. “What kind of name is that for-“

David then realized what he said. He clamped his mouth shut with his mouth, eyes wide with terror.

Yet, to David’s surprise, the man chuckled! He stared, open-mouthed. “Is this man mad?”

Ichabod replied, “I’ve gotten that a lot. Almost everyone asks me that question. What kind of a name is Ichabod?”

He continued to chuckle in a raspy voice, calming David down immensely.

“Yet it’s as much of a name as… what did you say your name was again?”

He was much calmer now. “David.”

“Well… David what?”

“That’s it. Just David.”

“I see. So they didn’t give you a last name at the orphanage?”

“No- Wait. How did you know?”

Ichabod sat up from his chair. “Are you serious? Your outfit practically gives it away. You’re lucky you weren’t found by any policemen!”

David looked down and shrugged.

“By the way,” Ichabod said. “My name is just as much of a name as David is for you.”

The light from the alleyway had changed course, shining onto the whole corridor, as well as onto both David and the old man. Ichabod’s face looked like it was aging at a graceful pace, with strong blue eyes supported with visible bags of flesh, even from afar. His hands, as well as the rest of his body, looked like they were once full of strength and skill, but had aged and now looked frail and accomplished. Yet unlike any other old man David had seen in his life, Ichabod was smiling. He leaned back in his old wooden chair again.

“So what brings you here, boy?” 

David shrugged again, sitting down on one of the chairs in front of Ichabod’s store, across the alleyway. “I just had to get out, I guess.”

The old man gave him a suspicious look. “If so, then we at the marketplace would see more of you boys out here. This is the first time I’ve seen an orphan outside of both the orphanage and a nun’s jurisdiction.” David looked away in nervousness and gulped.

“So answer me truthfully,” Ichabod said, leaning forward in his chair. “What is an orphan like you doing around here?”

David didn’t show it, but he was too scared to disobey anyone again.

So David told him everything that had happened that day, as well as that whole week (otherwise what happened today wouldn’t make any sense), while the man, leaning to the side of the chair, listened intently throughout.

“I see. So you left the orphanage in order to escape a fight and punishment?”

David nodded in blank-faced shame, his body bent over in the chair, his head almost touching his knees, his hands gripping his hat to this head.

 “That doesn’t sound very gentlemanlike. Aren’t you taught never to run from a fight?”

David looked confused; his head rose up a bit, looking up at Ichabod’s face. “No. We were never taught that.”

“Oh.”

“It was implied though,” David said.

“I see. I might not be able to help with the punishments, but maybe I can help you with that.”

David was skeptical. “How so?”

“I can teach you to fight.”

David stared blankly at the old man. “How do you know how to fight?”

“Trust me, David,” Ichabod said, his voice now brimming with confidence. “I can teach you to defend yourself at any time, even to stop this fear you have of fighting. Just answer me this…”

The old man was slightly deep in thought, for only a moment.

Then he looked up at David.

“Were you the avid reader that I’ve heard about from one of the Nuns that visits my store often?”

David was shocked. “Well, yes, I suppose. But how-“

Then he realized: “There’s a really nice place I’ve found in a crack-in-the-wall, on the side of the Market Square, that has great non-fiction books…”

“She had been talking about this bookstore, huh? Oh…”

Ichabod continued. “She is such a nice lady, always bringing back her books on time. She said there was a little boy who was reading all of them too, so that must be you,” he concluded, rubbing his chin.

“Then you still owe me books, right?”

David thought for a moment. “Uh, Oh, right. Yes, I do. But they’re in the orphanage. Actually, Sister Deborah took them back. I guess she hasn’t come to return them yet.”

“Tell you what Mr. David,” Ichabod began. “Forget about the book. There’s no need for you to go back for them. I can teach you anyways.”

“Really?! You mean it? Thank you! That would be wonderful!” David was overjoyed.

Now I have a place to stay AND I’m going to learn to fight TOO!

“Well, business is doing well enough to close up for the day. How about we begin your lessons right now, David?”

“But where? It’s awfully small right by your shop.”

“Come with me to the courtyard in the back. Trust me, I’m too old to hurt you. But still to fight, I’m afraid –snicker-.”

Peter was so used to listening that he followed behind him, but out of reach.

Ichabod showed him the way through his shop. The shop was FILLED with books, from top to bottom, so much so that outside a small room above the back of the store- which must have been where he slept), only accessible by a spiral staircase, was stacked with books.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have enough room for your book collection,” he chuckled, noticing David’s wide-eyed stares at the whole arrangement.

What would surprise David more was how on Earth Ichabod was going to teach him in such a small space. Yet to his surprise again, Ichabod opened a door at the back of the store, revealing a huge courtyard behind it.

 “It was meant to be for where everyone throws away their junk, but a few of us loved open spaces too much for us to leave it a heap,” he said with a proud smile on his face. 

The courtyard was huge, an empty yard surrounded by buildings and large trees, tucked away from any public view, as if it was only made for the inhabitants nearby. The ground was hard with the cold of the coming winter, but it was warmer than the alleyway, due to the sun shining intensely, breaking through the clouds for only a little bit, but enough to warm them up. Yet there was enough sun for David to notice that Ichabod was dragging a huge cylinder with him, rattling as if the cylinder was carrying-

“Swords?” David looked incredulously at Ichabod as he pulled out the two best ones.

“You’re going to teach me how to defend myself in SWORD-fighting?!?”

“Yes! Of course! Why wouldn’t we? What other fighting is there?”

Great. Now the only way I’ll be able to fight John is with a stick.

David slumped onto the cold ground. “That’s not what I meant when I said ‘fighting’…”

“Oh come on, chap! This is how everyone settles their disputes!”

“Not nowadays… Not anymore at least…”

            “Oh…” He noticed David’s disappointment, but gave a look of determination. He took one of the swords and said –

“Well, at least try it! Give it a shot!”- He held it out to David – “Who knows? You might be a natural! Besides, there’s no real way to fight now, is there?”

David looked up, sighed and took the sword from his hand as he got up. The sword was heavy, with a worn out wooden handle, but the blade was shined and beautiful, as if carefully and lovingly sharpened.

They faced each other, one a slower pro, the other as amateur as it gets. Before they did anything, he taught David the first thing before any duel; the courtesy to bow to each other.
“I don’t get it,” David said, slightly confused. “If we’re about to attack each other, why be so courteous?” Ichabod didn’t answer but did start to teach David how to swordfight.

            He showed David how to parry, to attack, to feint, to use the opponent’s strengths as weaknesses and how to stay calm mid-battle. During each quick-lesson, they would have a quick duel. After multiple small duels, David realized how much better he was getting. Much later, the duels got longer and more intense, each one getting the upper hand then losing it, only to retrieve it later. As the day progressed, David seemed to get better and better. Later on, David was winning every duel, even with tricks he couldn’t name yet.

            This went on for a couple more days. Ichabod would wake up David before sunrise, and they shared tea while the sun rose. Then they practiced some more, until Ichabod opened up his store. At that point, David would explore more of the marketplace, discovering new places, including a train station nearby. Then they dueled later on, while everyone was too busy closing up their stores. To the both of them, it was the most exciting time; for one of them it was freedom, the other an anchor from being free for too long.

By the second day, he had begun to love sword fighting, to the extent that he would get up before his master to enjoy himself and his new talent. During the duels he jumped, swiveled, and constantly reinforced every trick he learned. He learned to recognize tricks he didn’t understand, with newfound grace and force he never knew he had before. After one of the later duels, instead of David getting winded and exhausted, the roles were switched. Now Ichabod, given his expertise, was the one panting, a look of disbelief and pride, while the other showed off his brand new confidence. David never felt so tall in his life.

“I knew it! You’re a natural, David!” He exclaimed happily.

 “I am? Well, I guess I am!” David couldn’t help but be amused at his discovered talent, feeling incredibly poised as he rebalanced the sword in his hand. Then he had another crazy idea…

“May I ask you of a favor, Sir?”

“Of course,” Ichabod said while still breathing heavily. “What is it?”

“Do you have any daggers that I can use?”

“What? But you’ve barely begun the sword yet.”

“Really? You really think so,” David said with an arched eyebrow.

Ichabod looked at David, then gave a smug look.

“Okay, David. Though it’s only been two days,” He said as he took out a smaller sword from the cylinder.

“Let’s see how you do with a smaller weapon. I’ll cut down that confidence to size,” he said as he gave David the dagger. To him, it felt much better than the sword, with a lighter and shorter blade than before.

To Ichabod’s, and David’s, surprise, the dagger did wonders for him, allowing the student to practically dance circles around the teacher, swinging, clanging and twirling with the utmost of ease and skill. He ended the duel in record time, immobilizing Ichabod in minutes. Ichabod was very impressed, while hiding a sense of embarrassment over losing to a young boy who just learned how to swordfight.

The sun began to set as they both sat to rest their aching bodies.

“Well, that was a fantastic lesson, dear David. I must say you are one of the finest swordsman I’ve ever trained in only a few days.”

“Thank you kind sir.”

“How about a treat? After supper, I’ll bring you to a play.”

“Thank you sir, but what’s a play?”

“Hmm, well you are very ignorant, my dear child. Now you must come. I insist that you will love it by the time we get back home.”

After a small supper, Ichabod led him into what looked like an average store, except they weren’t selling any produce or toys, but… tickets?

“Here you go. Oh, you’ll love it boy. If I could only have three passions in this world, it’s shows, sword fighting and books. Come, the show is starting.”

“What show?”

“This is a small theater company, David. They make plays off of what’s popular, see? The play they are doing now is ‘Peter Pan, or the boy that never grew up’. Great! I have yet to see that. Here are our seats. Hmmm, I expected the audience to look older…”

Some of the people around them weren’t posh and snobby people that David had expected, rather teenagers, young couples and some bigger families. Their energy filled the room, and he could feel something that he wouldn’t understand until later, when the laughter and excitement of the crowd would come up again throughout the show.

The audience was only slightly bigger than the stage, which seemed crammed with colorful clothes and pieces of wood. The stage was the only thing that was lit, with two bubs shining on both corners. When they dimmed slightly, the audience instinctively knew to calm down. As they reach their seats, one of the actors steps onto the stage, dressed in clothing that he had never seen a man wear; a bright red robe, shiny green boots and a blue hat, with a gold feather in it..

“Dreamers and lovers of fine art, I welcome you to our beloved theater company. Usually we have a more…well, a greyer audience (he stopped for the ensuing chuckles), but we’re so happy that everyone else heard about this play, so we will not let you down. All we ask, as you all know, is to do what we call the audience’s creed:

Behold, you may be seated, you may feel the wood of the chairs under you, but your mind will be soaring into another world. That is the world of imagination. Behold, as you hear our parts, you must keep an open mind. From the young to the old, one thing we can always trust is our ability to make our own fantasies, and even turn them into realities. So when we say we’re in Neverland, imagine that for yourselves, and we will bring the fantastic to you. Tonight, we shall hope to inspire you to imagine, and amaze you all at once. Thank you fellow thespians, and enjoy the show!”

The audience didn’t clap though. They nodded and thanked the actor as he returned behind the bright red curtain.

“Ichabod, what did he mean by ‘making our own fantasies into realities’?”

“Hush boy. The play is to begin.”

It was then that Peter recognized some of the boys from the street, and they were sitting in the stands. Two of them were even in the play, acting as the boys named “John” and “Michael”. A girl played “Wendy” and another girl, slightly older, played a boy named “Peter Pan”, which David learned not to care about. Yet from the moment the play began, David was , quite literally, hooked, fascinated by the fact that there was a place called Neverland, and the only way to get there was through a second –something- to the right.

Some of their lines were in fact very intriguing, even laughable, which caused his overactive brain to ask questions: Lagoons flying over flamingoes? Happy thoughts can help someone fly?  There are still pirates out there? What is ‘good form’? Crocodiles that ate clocks? A home underground?

Yet he clapped so loud when Peter asked the audience if they believed in fairies. He cheered when Hook was defeated, and clapped when the play was over, and gave a standing ovation when Peter took a solo bow. Ichabod even whistled as the audience gave much appreciation to the crew.

He had never seen anything like it, and he wouldn’t understand it at that point, but it struck a nerve with him; Peter never grew up, never had parents, and never had to deal with people telling him what to do. Even better, he wasn’t forced into something that he didn’t really want to do. How can I stay young forever?

The only reason why David himself was going to be a priest was because they never let him do anything else… except for Sister Deborah, whom gave him books that were nothing like this, well maybe the one with the blaxburt. Yet as he sat in his makeshift bed of a couch and a large blanket in a side room while his teacher read on the other side of the shop, he couldn’t get over of how incredible that experience was; to fall completely into imagination was an experience that he kept talking with Ichabod all the way back to the store, and he would never forget.

Then they both heard knocks at the door. He heard Ichabod mumble incoherently as he came up to the door.

“AHUM-Who is it?”

“Sister Deborah of the St. Augustine Orphanage. Is David there?”

He shot up from his bed in complete surprise.

SISTER DEBORAH?! How on EARTH did she find him here?

“Um, uh well, uh- He’s not here.”

“Oh, is that so? Why, though, did it take you so long to answer?” Ichabod was getting frightened by her soothing voice.

“Well, he’s not here ‘here’, you know? He’s somewhere else…”

“Please let me in, Ichabod Holton.”

He knew to never disobey a nun, unless you want instant Hell.

She came into the house and called for David. The boy knew that once you are called once, the second time means a stronger punishment. He was already in enough trouble as it is.

“H-H-Hello Sister D-Deborah.”

He shook as he stepped out of the side door, and was immediately scooped up by his mother.

“My darling child! I was worried sick about you! Why did you leave? Oh, we must get you back to the orphanage! Look at you- you’re filthy! Oh, I guess you’ll have to bathe tomorrow. Come, we must go.”

“Why can’t I stay here? What about my punishment?”

She looked down upon his flushed cheeks and bright eyes- the ones she fell in love with. “Punishments? My dear, if you come back with me, you won’t have any punishments to deal with. No paddling, no dungeon, nothing. All you need to do is come with me.”

Now David was torn- between the new life he loved, and the life that he was used to; the world that begged others to use their imaginations and the other which preached one straight path that only a few could ever finish.

…

As he left with Sister Deborah, after a short goodbye to Ichabod, he immediately tried to distract himself with memories of the fun he had before. He thought about how he was going to fight John and maybe chase him far away, so his life could get better.

Maybe he would swing him over the big grey fence in the playground.

They arrived at the orphanage around the time late at night, and came in through the broken side door.

So David, did you at least have a good time?”

“Oh, yes, Sister. The marketplace was HUGE, and FILLED with people. I met the man from the bookstore you always went to. He taught me how-”

“Now- now, sweety. That’s enough. Go upstairs to bed, we’ll talk about it later.”

“Yes, Sister. And thank you!”

After she turned the corner again to go to her own quarters, he climbed the stairs more slowly now, tired and exhausted from his amazing adventures. He quietly dressed into his pajamas, and, with a satisfied grin and more confidence than ever before, fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, but only after realizing that his 12^th birthday was in 6 days.