Rough Draft Chapter 2

By the time all of Buckeye’s baby teeth grew in, Peter’s new shadow had grown in and they had moved back into the burrow, as the house suddenly missed civilization and ran back to London. The boy with the dark skin grew into the grass pants- made by the Piccaninnies for him at a young age- until they cut off at the top of his knees. His vest was a badge of honor from his first kill. It smelled of tree sap and freshly cut grass.

He learned to live in the forests, to enjoy the touch of young leaves and to tend to the forest’s every need. If a tree fell down, he would scold the other trees for picking on it. He walked saplings in little prams to help them sleep at night. He even ran with the wind and swung through the vines like the apes in the canopy.  He went on new adventures with Peter, exploring every known nook and cranny of the island. With Peter’s imagination, they joined up with birds and flying fish, the young boy riding on Peter’s back, as they rocketed into space and played catch with the rings of Saturn.

Yet nothing could prepare them for what happened next. As they rode on the Orient Express past the Neverpeaks, Buckeye noticed something on the eastern ridges or rock, riding them like they were waves in the ocean. It looked like a boy from afar, with short hair and the slim body of a child.

“He’s stepping lively, Buckeye.”

“What’s ‘lively’, Peter?”

“Excited, I think.”

“Oh. Should we meet him?” He asked questions in Peter’s accent, but the language he learned first was that of the Picaninies, then English, so he spoke like a Red-face.

“I don’t see why not. Maybe he’s friendly.” Peter looked more curious than cautious, so they slowly trotted down the mountain to meet the new person on the island. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, as the sun signed a treaty to share the sky with the night. The water was cool and refreshing as it rushed away from them.

“Oy, person stepping lively!”

The person didn’t look behind them.

“Lively person!” Buckeye’s young voice didn’t resonate with them either.

They gave each other the cue. They guessed that calling them a person didn’t seem right. They had a name, after all. They guessed the next word that came to mind to be their name. They called it in unison.

“LIVELY!”

            The person turned around. Her delicate features and big eyes gave it away.

            It was a girl?! Since when did girls come to Neverland?!

Her eyes, the blue glinting as boldly as the sea, took in the sight of two boys on a high point. Two boys standing over her was never a good sign. She turned and ran away from them, gracefully jumping the narrow ridges like a terrified deer.

       “Wait! We won’t hurt you!”

They glided together across the valley as the girl sought refuge in the forest. Her short dress dragged assorted fabric behind her, catching onto every branch that reached out. She began to panic as she heard them running after her. It didn’t take her long to pull the whole dress off and bolt for the water, to possible refuge at the rock shaped like an ominous skull.

Her chasers didn’t know it, but she found a path of rocks that acted as a bridge between the rock and the rest of the island. They were right underneath the water’s surface, so to Peter and Buckeye, she was running on water. They stared in awe as she got closer and closer to the rock. She didn’t notice that Peter could fly, so she turned around to see where they were. Thinking she was safe, she teased at them before slipping on the rocks. Her head smacked against one as she bounced off into the water. Buckeye didn’t have to tell Peter to gather her in before she drowned in the rising tide.

He raised her limp body out and into the air as he floated like a heavy goose.

“Get to the tribe. I’m bringing her there.”

The dark haired boy nodded and rushed back inland, only to remember the ridges a moment too late. Luckily the northeast bridge was operational, so he slid upwards and climbed downwards to the Indian wall. He recited the password to the guard (“primmed”, meaning “ruined” in some other language), and arrived at the meeting fire by the time Peter was waiting with the injured girl.

Tiger Lily was tending to her while another girl, around Buckeye’s age, watched her mother apply a thin papery substance dipped in oils around the girl’s head, circling it around in a delicate fashion. Buckeye stood next to Peter, narrow brown eyes flickering over their new guest. Short matted honey-brown hair stuck through the bandages like grass, while small speckled cheekbones left her eyes room to grow bigger than usual.

By the time she awoke, fully dressed in some sort of grass tunic, she was surrounded by Savages, two boys and two sparkling lights that she registered as fairies. She didn’t know whether to scream, to stare at her saviors or protest against her captors. For a second she heard gibberish, then it turned into coherent words around her. All she knew was that she was chased by the boys at some point, but nothing else.

“…Wondered when Lively was going to wake up. She hit her head hard, Tiger Lily.”

“WHERE THE HECK AM I?!?”

Her voice pierced the sky. The people near her jumped away in shock. Birds flew away in chaotic patterns. London Zoo’s Gazelles looked up in alarm.

She sat up in one swift movement and fell in another. Her throbbing head gave a dizzying headache, but the bandages felt cool on the bump that shouldn’t be there. The woman they called Tiger Lily soothingly forced her head back on the fur pillow amidst shushing sounds.

“Rest, Lively. Your wound won’t last long. You’re amongst friends now. Just rest, Lively.”

She didn’t remember anything. Not even her own name. Yet Lively sounded like a good substitute. She fell back asleep while calling herself that, bringing a smile to her exhausted face.