Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 01 - Wendy and the Lost Boys (23 page)

“I don’t care. Did you tell them about the computer in the hollow tree?”

He nodded. “Let me go with you.”

“That would be perfect. You, me, and Peter.” I stood up. “You have a job to do. Those
Lost Boys
need your protection. I’ll be back before your private jet leaves Saint Kitts.”

“If you take the Nevis ferry the last run is at six… less than two hours from now. You could be stranded on the island.”

I smiled as I took a sip of paper-flavored water. “Roger!… Roger.”

“If there is any gunfire, get the hell out of there. And don’t bring Peter back with you.”

***

The sun touched the sea with a silent sizzle as the ferry made an easy trip across the narrows between Saint Kitts and Nevis Island. Two lovey-dovey couples hung on each other… honeymooners, I guessed. We put ashore in an intoxicating blend of lush tropical plants, white sand, and soft breezes. It was not the view of Nevis Island I had experienced just hours earlier.

I headed up the beach at a tired trot. The forested interior rose to scenic Nevis Peak, which was cloaked in clouds. Bougainvillea, hibiscus, and other brilliant flowers danced along the perimeter of the shoreline. It could be a romantic setting with the right person.

Blue and white cabanas appeared in the distance. Either it was an oasis, a mirage, or a very posh resort. I could see each of the cabanas was enclosed on three of its four sides. The fourth side of each was open to the sea. A young guy was tugging lounge cushions onto a cart.

It was pushing five – cutting it close. Creeping along the shoreline I tried to focus my wind-burned eyes. I blinked, and in blinking I saw the beach kid had copper-colored hair. He was dressed in dark shorts and a white shirt. Although I couldn’t see his face I knew it was Peter.

Suddenly I was afraid. Afraid he wouldn’t know me, or worse would be casual about our meeting. My body went cold despite the boiling Caribbean heat. I stepped toward him, my legs shaking.

He looked up in dreamlike slowness.

Silently, we stared at each other.

I could see the confusion on his face. After twenty-four years I appeared out of nowhere. “Wendy? Is it you?” Peter said. He reached out and swooped me into his arms. As he pressed me to his chest I could feel his heart beating in sync with mine. A wicked chemistry kicked in, and I wanted nothing more than to devour him. Instead… I cried. All the worries and the questions plaguing me were gone. This was my Peter, and he could never do anything wrong.

Gently he pulled me away from him. He looked befuddled as he touched a laugh-line near my lips. I felt like he was analyzing every wrinkle, every freckle on my face.

“Wendy…” Peter repeated my name first in a whisper and then crowed it to the sky. “I thought I’d lost you forever. You did the thing I dreamed of doing but didn’t have the nerve. You found me. How did you get here?”

“The ferry,” I said breathless.

The beach was abandoned. He guided me toward a cabana and gently pushed me inside, drawing a curtain in place. At that moment we were the only two people in the world. His mouth sought mine, and that kiss that sat at the corner of my lip…waiting all these years. A kiss can make the heart young again and wipe out a lifetime of tears. Stepping into the past, I willingly fell into his embrace for a moment, then caught myself. Roger’s accusations sat heavy on my mind.

“Peter, why are you here?”

He touched his finger to my lips replacing it with his mouth. A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words are useless. It was delicious. In my mind I was seventeen again and lost in the trance Peter cast over me.

As I slipped my arms around his neck, he dropped his hands to my waist.

“Now that you’ve found me, I’m never going to let you go,” he said. He was so happy, so warm. He held me in his arms as if I were a small bird perched for flight. He ran his calloused fingers over my cheekbones and down my neck to my shoulders.

Fighting his caress, I brushed his hand aside. “Have you been here all these years? Why didn’t you contact me? A simple call?”

He looked like a little boy who had been chastised. Dodging my questions, he pulled the curtain open. “See that yacht far out on the horizon? It’s my partner’s ship. I’m going to be very wealthy soon.”

I stared at the
Predator
in horror. Everything Roger said was true. Peter was a crook.

A clueless crook. His partner Hook was sucking on polonium somewhere out at sea.

“What do you do for your partner?”

He gave me a thinly veiled look of impatience. “We’re in import and export.” He nuzzled my neck as he put his hands on my shoulders.

Gaining a firmer footing in the sand, I braced myself against him as he tried to force me to the ground. “What kind of trinkets do you import to this tiny island? I can’t imagine there’s any money in it.”

“My partner sells very rare antiques. I bring him the buyers and get paid big finder’s fees. It would be hard to explain it to you. It’s complicated.”

“It’s illegal? Isn’t it?”

“Jeeze Louise!” he said as he shoved me to the ground and dropped on top of me.

His face was too close to see. I pushed him away. “Let me look at you, Peter.” I ran my fingers through his hair as I planned my escape.

“I don’t remember you being such a chatterbox.” He forced his kiss on me.

I thought of my friends back on Saint Kitts ready to jet off. I thought of Treanna who was counting on my return. Those thoughts gave me the strength to fight the lips I had welcomed mere minutes ago. I had been naïve. I might as well have shown up on Nevisland packing a tiara and a whoopee cushion.

“Be with me… after all this time… be with me.”

He’s whining.

“Ten minutes won’t change the future, but it may complete our past. You owe me.”

I owe him?
That was when I was sure I had to clock him.

He pinned me to the ground. I hate feeling trapped. This was getting to be a habit.

“What is it with you men?”

Thank God she gave men man-berries to level the playing field for women. I thought about it for half a second then brought up my left knee with a power-thrust.
I’m going to have to get knee-guards if this keeps up.

As Peter howled and hugged himself, I was pretty sure I’d written the end of the tale of Wendy and Peter Payne. Now I knew the only thing I ever loved about Peter was the memory of him. He was a binky. A comfort when I felt lonely or controlled. It was time to let go of something that never really existed.

As I stood up, Peter made a grab for me. “Please don’t go! If you stay with me, Wendy. You’ll never grow old… older. It’s magical.”

“How old are you Peter?”

“Seventeen.”

“You’re forty-two,” I said.

Peter was visibly shaken by the number, almost as if I had broken some sort of trance. He became arrogant. “You always thought you were so smart – hot shit,” he said. “As long as I stay here in Nevisland I will remain seventeen.” He looked confused, like a toddler whose balloon was losing air. “I never wanted to grow up. You resented me for that. It was always all about you. I was just one of your memories.”

“Not anymore,” I said as I stepped out of the cabana.

I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes until the last ferry. Time flies when you’re kneeing old friends. I dashed along the slippery sand. Every other step sent a stabbing pain up my left leg, but I distracted myself by imagining the look on Treanna’s sweet face when I handed her Tinkerbelle. It would be love at first sight.

For Roger and me, not so much at first sight. We had some fine-tuning to do.

The ferry waited for the screaming, waving blond woman… me. I made a klutzy, crashing leap from the shores of Nevis Island to the boat. I knew Roger would be frantic and probably waiting on the dock at Saint Kitts.

The narrows between the islands turned mean, teasing, delaying me. I worked my way to the bow of the rickety ferry. A small crowd stood on the Saint Kitts’ side – greeters for the last load of tourists, honeymooners, and shell seekers.

Crackling recorded music was playing from a loudspeaker on the dock. Someone was singing about
seeing his smiling face
, I smiled at the thought… I spotted Roger jumping up and down and waving. He looked like a happy puppy.

I ran down the gangplank and almost into his arms. At the last minute, he pulled away.

“They’re holding the plane,” he said.

I peeked at those yummy long lashes and smiled. How often does life hand you an archeologist with Johnny Depp eyes?

“Let’s go find that thirteenth boy!”

The Gulfstream soared through the clouds, its nose aimed at Miami.

Sometimes the promise you keep is not the one you made.

The End

~

About the Author

Barbara Silkstone is the best-selling author of
The Fractured Fairy Tales
series that currently includes:
The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland, Age 42 and Three-Quarters
;
Wendy and the Lost Boys
; and
London Broil
.

For further giggles and a touch of true fiction try:
The Adventures of a Love Investigator, 527 Naked Men and One Woman.

Silkstone’s writing has been described as “perfectly paced and pitched – shades of Janet Evanovich and Carl Hiaasen – without seeming remotely derivative. Fast moving action that shoots from the hip with bullet-proof characterization.”

Wendy and the Lost Boys
topped the charts in comedy, climbing over Tina Fey, Sophie Kinsella, and Ellen DeGeneres.
The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland, Age 42 and Three-Quarters
has been a consistent best seller in comedy. Both
Wendy
and
Alice
have been in the top 20 Amazon comedies at the same time. Silkstone has been fortunate enough to take part in writing workshops with Stephen King, Robert B. Parker, and James Michener.

Barbara Silkstone loves to hear from her readers.

You can write to her at:
[email protected]

Or visit her at:

Barb’s Wire eBooks & More

http://barbswire-ebooksandmore.blogspot.com/

~

Fractured Fairy Tales by Silkstone

Criminally Funny Fables

The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland, Age 42 and Three-Quarters

This author has a unique narrative voice, and reading the story is like taking a smooth slide into Alice’s surreal world. The premise is outstanding – a classic we all love, with a contemporary, intelligent twist.

~ Elizabeth Lindberg, author Upper West Side Stories

Purchase for your Kindle at:
Amazon

Wendy and the Lost Boys

Be aware, this is not the Peter Pan story you want your kids reading. It is clearly intended for adult readers. Yet it appeals to the childlike part of us that loved the classic original stories. Combine that childlike love with modern politics and technology, and you get this smart, snarky, hilarious mystery. The story is richly developed and leaves you guessing until the very end. I am liking this grown-up version of Peter Pan even more than the original.

~ Tiffany Harkleroad for Tiffany’s Bookshelf

Purchase for your Kindle at:
Amazon

London Broil
— the sequel to
Wendy and the Lost Boys

The snarky Python sequel to Wendy and the Lost Boys. A murderous rollercoaster ride through London during a killer heat wave.

~ Ravan Reviews

Purchase for your Kindle at:
Amazon

Zo White
– coming 2012

Bonus excerpt from
London Broil
the sequel to
Wendy and the Lost Boys

Chapter 1

S
unlight ricocheted off the waters of Biscayne Bay piercing my tears like painful daggers of light.