Lost Boi (7 page)

Wendi was in and out of consciousness. I knew how much she'd taken. There was no way to safely get her into one of our hammocks, so Pan ordered all us bois to give up our softest blankets so he could lay her on them. We each brought Pan the cleanest, softest of our blankets, and he sniffed each pillow to find the ones that smelled the least of hair gel, cum, or B.O. Our Mommy was wrapped in blankets and lay on a patch of floor we quickly scrubbed with the dirtiest T-shirts we could find in the clothing pile.

John Michael sat at the edge of our circle, crouched and leaning against the wall. She was scared, that was clear. When she and Pan had first arrived, she'd asked if Wendi was sleeping. Nibs, more tender than he normally is, responded that she was. This seemed to quiet the boi for a little while, but she became restless, and when John Michael asked why we couldn't wake her and have her cook for us, I glanced at Pan, who was sporting a disturbed and disgusted look in response. Curly was also mortified by this strange boi who so clearly
was not one of us. When John Michael suggested that we rouse Wendi, Curly began very slowly to explain, as though John Michael were stupid, that we were building a safe nest for her. No more would Wendi be the group-home sister who would cover for John Michael when she violated curfew. This boi had a lot to learn about how things worked around here.

I guess you could call it consent. After all, John Michael was into Pan, though I'm not sure he really prepared her for what it would mean to be a lost boi. As she helped us to build a nest for Mommy, she looked dazed, as though she couldn't quite figure out what she'd done to get here. John Michael was still thinking about what they had seen in the Jolly Roger. Pan had sneered, but she'd been turned on. The rules, legacy, and boundaries were more enticing now than they had ever seemed when she had read about them in books and blogs. John Michael wondered if Hook's pirates would want a boi like her, not knowing that this thought was pure treason.

As Wendi slept in her nest, Pan fixed coffee on the little two-burner stove. Us bois were sent away, except for John Michael, who was instructed to stay. I took Erebos outside with me. The sky was light and none of us had slept. Time is a strange thing at Neverland. None of us had a watch. Time was about the moment, not what day of the week it was or the hour on a clock. I watched as Erebos pissed in some blackberry bushes at the edge of the train tracks. I felt proud that Pan still trusted me with his dog. Washington, perched on my shoulder, had also gone outside with us. I pulled a marker
from my pocket and ripped a page out of a dry newspaper that had blown against the edge of the dumpster.

          
Dear Siren,

          
It appears that the Wendi will live. Pan had brought her, and she is to be a Mommy to all us bois. I've never had one of those before, but hopefully I'll learn how to serve her, and how to let her care for me. It appears that Pan doesn't intend to kill or banish me, and he doesn't need to know that you were here. I took full responsibility, and so long as she comes to, and I get the hang of this Mommy/boi thing, I think everything will be fine.

          
Pan's lost boi,

          
Tootles

          
p.s. I had a really good time with you today

I let Washington hop onto my fingers, put the note in my mouth, and with my free hand, opened his little leather pouch. Then I folded the note and strapped it in. I kissed the back of Washington's neck and he cooed.

“Take this to the Lagoon, please,” I whispered, and his purple-grey body took to the sky, circling me once as he gained speed, then flew over Neverland and toward the river.

When Erebos and I came inside, Pan only nodded his gratitude, but didn't invite me to stay in the kitchen. I went to my hammock. When I climbed in, the damn cock I'd thrown up
there earlier poked me in the ass. On another day, it would have been funny, but today it just made me angry so I hurled it into the cock pile on the other side of the room. I snarled a laugh, wondering what a Mommy would think of a pack of such filthy bois. I knew enough to realize that wasn't the kind of thing you should let a Lady see. I tried to stay awake, to hear everything Pan said, but when sleep came, it took me hard.

Before I slept, however, I heard Pan trying to bond with John Michael, trying to connect with this boi who'd been to school and conferences, who'd taken 101 workshops, and didn't go out on dates without having every aspect from hand-holding to flogging fully negotiated with kinky checklists completed and compared. She could have joined ranks with Hook's crew, except … there was something about Pan. Maybe she was attracted to his red hair, close to silvering, or his arms encased in thick black tattoos, but I think what drew her were the adventures he promised. I doubt she was naïve enough to believe they wouldn't also come with danger.

I awoke suddenly and steadied myself so as not to fall from my hammock. Around me I could hear the shallow snores of the other bois. I squinted into the darkness and made out three empty hammocks, the two newly prepared ones and Pan's. In the quiet, I could hear someone being flogged in the kitchen.

When a boi joins our ranks, Pan likes to spend private time getting to know them. That new boi time always makes me jealous. I'm poly, so of course I don't mind him being with
another boi, but that special first night gets under my skin like a TB test, and I get all itchy and red. I was so riled, thinking about him being with that preppy boi. I didn't have to spend much time with John Michael to realize who she was; it was so obvious that she would never be part of our pack. For fuck's sake, she walked into Neverland wearing a sports jersey. I didn't give a shit if she grew up in foster care, she had snitch written all over her. I don't trust easily. It's a fault, I suppose, except that Pan is usually the same. He never told me to act any different, and he appreciated how protective I was of Neverland; he called me his right-hand boi a couple of times, when the others weren't around. John Michael might have been able to take a good beating, or at least that's how it sounded, but I knew she wouldn't last. I just hoped Pan wouldn't let himself get too attached. He says he doesn't care when bois up and leave, but I know he does.

I forced myself back to sleep, fingering the cuff I'd worn since the moment I became Pan's. It helped to keep me from crawling out of my hammock and wedging myself into the doorway to watch Pan's battle. Normally, he likes an audience to show off for, but for his first time with someone, he likes to give them privacy as they break. Pan likes to give a boi something special to remember him by.

I'll never forget my first battle with Pan. It was terrifying, overwhelming, and confusing, and yet it was also everything I'd ever wanted. Pan was wilder back then. When I first became his boi, he was flying on pixie dust every day. I didn't know
what hit me or what I was consenting to when he jumped me in. It was the hardest beating I've ever taken. I wouldn't even call it a true battle, it was so one-sided. I knew I needed to push myself because the stakes were so high. I knew if Pan wasn't impressed, I would be alone again. After that battle, I had to stay inside Neverland for a few days. Between the purple eye and the bruises that lined my arms, thighs, chest, back, and shins … Well, basically everywhere on my body was bruised. That first night in my hammock, when Pan was done with me, when I knew I had pleased him, when I knew that I was to be his boi, I knew that, for the first time in my life, I was home. It was the best sleep I'd ever had, even though it was impossible to get comfortable with all the cuts and bruises pressed against the ropes of the hammock.

The bois and I awoke to grimy sunlight fighting through the filthy warehouse windows. John Michael was snoring in her hammock, but Pan's was empty. Pan doesn't do mornings. I started sweating and couldn't catch my breath. I was worried that something bad had happened. Waking up alone, not knowing where I am, or not knowing where Pan is, always fills me with the kind of anxiety I can't deep-breathe my way out of. I needed him. Pan was usually pretty good about keeping his nose clean, but pixie dust was so easy to get, and it was always calling to him. It scared me because I knew how much he liked to fly with it. He said the temptation called to him like sweet little bells, not like the gnashing teeth of the Crocodile., and that's how he knew it was safe.

The bois and I rolled out of our hammocks to look for Pan, dragging John Michael with us. We found Pan hunched against the wall under the main window. At first, I worried he'd flown in, but then, when I saw Wendi asleep in her nest, I realized that he was watching over her. Pan would rather die than be a gentleman, but he cared for this grrrl. I'd only ever see Pan save bois, a ritual that's exacting and intense, but not especially tender. He expects those under him to be strong, to be a pack, to hold rank and honour, and to uphold his (messy) protocol. All the jealousy and frustration I'd been holding all night was gone when I saw his sleeping face, its expression both playful and determined. All I wanted was to kneel before him, to make sure that things were right between us. Wendi awoke and asked for more blankets. She must have sobered up but probably felt like shit. Did she act more fucked-up than she actually was? We brought blankets to her because she was to be our Mommy, and I wanted to make her happy. Wendi snuggled back down in the blankets and I made coffee for us all.

When Wendi's eyes opened again later that day, all of us bois dropped to our knees before her. I didn't say anything, but secretly I worried that she wouldn't want us. All us lost bois looked nervous, except for Nibs and John Michael. Nibs couldn't meet Wendi's eyes; he looked instead at the dark, angry line of dried blood on her ankle and scowled. I was afraid that she would get up and climb out the window and leave us before we even had a chance of getting a Mommy. Or
worse, that she would remember what I had done and would banish me, deciding to Mommy only the other bois.

What happened next felt like a desperate yet irresistible flirtation between us bois and our new Mommy. Wendi sat up on her makeshift bed and ran her hands through her hair, taming it, as she looked over each of us in turn. There was not a boi who could prevent a deep blush from crawling across their cheeks and down into their shirts. It's not polite to say, but I knew that each of us grew incredibly hard and/or wet, depending on our orientation, under her gaze. We had presented ourselves to her as best we could. I turned to look at Pan and saw that not only was he looking at us approvingly, but he'd also made attempts to comb back his hair and tuck his paint-splattered T-shirt into his sagging pants. Watching him present himself made me queasy. Please don't misunderstand; it's not that I have a problem with switches. My own role in Pan's world is too complicated for that. But to watch Sir present himself to this grrrl was a lot to ask of any of us bois. In fact, it was too much to ask of Nibs, who pulled away from the pack and walked right out the door. Wendi tried to act humble and surprised by the attention we lavished on her. She turned to us bois and Pan, all on our knees. In unison we said, “Oh, Miss Wendi, please be our Mommy, please stay!”

She twirled her hair in the most seductive way, her eyes big and wet. “Oh, I'm just not sure! You bois are so sweet, but being a Mommy is such a lot of work, and I'm only a little grrrl!”

It was only Pan who dared answer; the rest of us held our
breath. “Please Wendi, we'll be good to you. Please stay and tell us stories!”

I didn't want to care, to admit it mattered to me. Us bois had managed just fine without a Mommy for a long time. I wanted to rise and say, “We don't need this pretty grrrl, this wannabe Lady, wannabe grownup,” and yet, I'd caught Pan's Mommy fever. Despite myself, I needed this Wendi Lady to be my Mommy, to patch my pockets, to tuck me in. I hated myself for it, but I wanted nothing more than to bring her trinkets, rusted and tarnished bits of jewellery, and to steal bouquets of flowers for her from the cemetery.

Our first unspoken order was that we bois had to work together to convince Wendi to be our Mommy, to stay in our world, and most importantly, keep us as her own. Pan's confidence and pleading made Wendi smile, bat her eyes, and primp up her hair. I don't like to stick my nose in where it doesn't belong, and I didn't really know how Wendi felt about me or the rest of the bois, but it looked like, right away, she wanted something different, something romantic from Pan. She motioned for all of us to get up off our knees. I thought that she was going to issue some kind of a speech, but her words were forgettable. The gist of what she said was that she would stay, be our Mommy. I watched as Wendi kept trying to catch Pan's eye, but he was beaming and looking proudly at us bois.

That first night with her was a special one. Wendi spent the day inspecting Neverland, making note of what was out
of place and what she needed to turn it into the kind of place that she could think of as home. John Michael seemed in a daze. She'd had her special time with Pan, and it's none of my business, but I'd guess she forgot all about Wendi while she lay in her little nest sobering up. Now, though, John Michael saw that she truly was just one of us bois, and all the shit she'd done, her good grades and conferences, didn't mean a thing. She seemed like she was in shock. Pan had given her a night, and in the afterglow she followed him around Neverland, trying to please him and get more of his attention, but it was no use. Pan had eyes only for Wendi that night.