Never Land
“Who put salt in the sugar jar?!” the voice boomed through the orphanage.
It was late evening, and the boys were all huddled in their beds. Normally they would be drifting off to sleep, but now they cowered at the rage which was sure to follow the angry voice. Only a small giggle, coming from the very last bed in the room, broke the boys’ silence.
Heads whipped in his direction.
“Why’d you have to go and do that?” “She’s still mad from the last joke you pulled on her!” “Now we’ll all get in trouble!” The voices whined in whispers.
“Oh come now lads, I’m the only one who jokes with her. She’ll know it was me and won’t blame you lot,” he hissed back at them.
At least, he hoped so. The matron always thought he elicited help from others since some of his pranks were quite elaborate, but he was just craftier than she would ever admit.
He always got caught, but her punishments were a small price to pay for the reactions she and the other women working at the orphanage had when they discovered the prank – like when he put rats in the soup pot and the cook thought someone had bewitched the vegetables. His antics made him laugh just as it made the other boys laugh once he was found the culprit.
Here we go again.
“PETER!” she screeched and her footsteps thundered up the stairs toward the bedroom.
“Peter!” James, his best mate, whispered to him, “Go! Don’t let her catch you!”
With a nod Peter tossed back the covers and dashed to the window. Swinging the panes out wide, he took hold of the rope he had previously tied to the drain pipe. Without looking back he started to climb the rope to the roof.
It was a short distance, and his fingers were already grabbing hold of the edge of the roof by the time she stuck her head out the window.
“You get back in here now, or no supper for three days!”
He dangled from the roof by his fingertips but still had the courage to look down and stick his tongue out at her. With an angry hiss she retracted her head and slammed the window shut. He knew he had to move quickly because her next move was to intercept him on the roof.
Peter hoisted himself up, scratching his knees on the tiles that covered the roof. At least it was flat enough for him to run across. And that was critical for his next step in escaping.
He took off across the roof as the roof door opened. Peter knew that she was too slow to catch him, and her screeching proved him right.
“Get back here! Where –,” she gasped as she realized his intent. “PETER NO!”
He ran across the rooftop, marveling at all the stars he could see on this cold night. He knew that it would be dark enough that he had previously memorized the exact two stars he needed to head toward in order to make his escape – onto the roof across the alley.
Second star on the left. Second star on the left. He chanted in his mind as he raced toward the void between the buildings.
With a mighty crow he launched himself into the air. His arms spread wide and he thought to himself, I can fly!
What he had failed to realize was that the night air was so clear that more stars than usual were out. His directional star wasn’t the one he originally planned.
The cold air whipped past him as he plummeted to the ground.
“Is there anything that can be done?” the matron whispered once the doctor emerged from the bedroom.
She had rushed out into the alley as fast as her legs could carry, scooped up Peter, and screamed for a doctor. Now, many hours later, the doctor was giving his diagnosis.
“Sadly, no. The boy is lucky enough to still be breathing after a fall like that…”
“He was always playing games,” she whispered to herself. The guilt had set in immediately although she tried to explain away his actions – it was her fault Peter had tried to jump, and now his broken, unconscious body lay on a bed in a room far away from the other boys. She’d kept them away since bringing Peter inside.
“I don’t know if he will wake. Maybe ever.” His sadness made her guilt worse.
She quietly thanked him and sighed. She had to face the boys, to let them know what happened. She must be as kind as possible – most of them already hated her. Eleven teary, anxious faces waited as she opened the door to their room.
Peter had jumped off the roof. His mind had been broken, so he could be anywhere and nowhere. He was no longer on the roof, but neither was he still on the ground. Oh, Peter. The boy who thought he could fly, and hoped that he would never land.