The Way to Believe

I left Tanya to her piano, and new way of thinking, and made up my mind to go and explore Neverland.

I flew down the hallway, and out of the door at the end. It opened into a huge garden with vines and flowers and all sorts of things I couldn’t even name. It looked like everything a garden should look like: over grown, colourful, and wild. I heard a sound of rushing water. I flew towards it. It was a small little waterfall, falling into a pond. I could see glints of silver and gold. Koi? I felt the water; it was warm. I laughed and it echoed throughout the whole garden.

I soared above the trees. I could see everything. In the distance there was what looked like a volcano. And only a mile away from where I was now was the ocean. It sparkled blue and green in the morning light. At the edge of it, there was what appeared to be a small town and a harbour full of ships, large and small. The whole island was lit up with a golden light. It looked exactly as I had imagined it. The building I had just been in looked Roman or Greek. It had tall colonnades of sparkling marble that reflected the golden light on everything in the garden. If this isn’t paradise, then I don’t know what is.

I flew towards the town and harbour.

I could see people going about their business. Walking to and fro, from one little house to another. I didn’t know that there were that many people in Neverland. J. M. Barrie never wrote about it.

Now that I think about, Mr. Barrie must have been to Neverland. Or at least had to have talked to Wendy, or John, or Michael. If he had only talked to Wendy, then he wouldn’t have known about the people. Or maybe Wendy didn’t even know about them? She can’t have been here for very long then.

If what Tanya said was true then, Wendy must have been one of ‘Peter’s girls.’ So why did he let her go back?

…

I turned around. I could always explore the town another day. Who knows when I might get another chance to see the island?

What I really want to see are the mermaids.

I took off over the treetops. Hmmm. Where are those pretty little mermaids.

I spotted a sparkling pond and waterfall. And movement. That must be the mermaids.

I landed in a little clearing off to the side of the waterfall. I took a step towards the pond and an arrow whizzed past the front of my nose.

“If you move another meter I will shoot.”

I spun around looking for the source of the voice. It was a girl’s voice, strong and independent. My eyes roved the trees for the girl. They hooked on a shiny thing near the ground. A boot buckle.

“I can see you.” I looked straight at her. Her eyes scowled.

She growled, “I can see that.”

“Can you?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” And she stepped out. My fist impression was of a much taller person, but the girl could have only been about 5 ‘2. She had a black bandanna tied around her long wavy dirty blonde hair, dark gray, almost black eyes, peeked out from under dark lashes giving me a cold look. She wore a ripped white top, with three quarter length sleeves, corseted by black belt with a big buckle. Her capri-like black pants and knee high buckled boots were ripped, scuffed and dirty. A very worn appearance.

Thin muscular arms held a long bow pointed at my chest.

“Who are you?”

“Iris. Prewett. Tamora Iris Prewett. Who are you?”

“That’s none of your business”

“Seeing as you’re about to shoot me, it is my business. I’d like to at least know who’s going to kill me. ”

“Very funny,” she smirked, “It’s Hunter.”

“Hunter who?”

“Hunter nobody.”

“Well Hunter Nobody? What are you gonna do with me?”