I buried myself in the foliage by the path and waited forever to make sure none of the other Lost Boys had followed me. All I could hear was the breeze and there wasn't any sign of anyone, so I figured I was safe. I crept through the brush, being careful not to break any branches or bend any twigs that might give someone an indication of which way I had gone. Even Tigger had admitted I'd gotten pretty good at being able to hide my back-trail. The last part was the roughest because it was a dense thicket full of thorns and thistles. I managed to squeeze through them and came out the other side pretty much unscratched. In front of me was the best swimming hole ever. It was fed from a hot spring that was always a perfect warm temperature, had a great beach, and there was a small waterfall that came from somewhere which also fed the pool and made the most awesomest splashing sound.

Normally when Lost Boys go swimming, we just jump in, pelt and all. Of course swimming usually happens in the summer so it doesn't get cold or anything and the sun dries off the pelt pretty quick when we get out of the water. This was spring, though, and it was extremely windy and cold outside. I could have jumped into the lagoon, but I'd have frozen in a few minutes when I got out. I'd found this place last fall when I was running away from an enraged lizard. It was a very big, very ferocious, very vicious lizard and I barely managed to escape in time. I hadn't paid any attention to where I was going when I clawed my way through the thistles, but carefully made note of where it was on my way back out. Since none of the other boys had asked me if I'd ever found a perfect place for swimming in winter, I guess I forgot to tell them about it.

I sat on the beach for a long time making sure, once again, that I was alone and that no one had followed me. It's not that any of the other Lost Boys made a habit of tagging along behind me, but I was a little paranoid. After waiting a little while longer, I stripped off the bear-pelt, dropped it on the beach and plunged into the water in my small clothes.

The water felt wonderful and I splashed around, swimming and diving for a long time. After doing that, I turned over on my back and floated. Red says I can float in the water better than anyone. I'm not sure he really means it as a compliment, but it's basically true. Between the floating, the sound of the waterfall, and the mist that was rising off the pool where the warm water met the cold air, I must have dozed off for awhile. I don't know what I was dreaming about, but I suddenly tried to stand up and sputtered as water went up my nose. It looked like it was late afternoon, so I figured it was time to start heading back for Hangman's Tree. I waded to where I left the bear-pelt and stood there stupidly looking at the place where I'd dropped it. The place that it wasn't at now.

For a moment I started to panic, then took a couple of deep breaths. I'd probably just forgotten where I'd dropped it at. It wouldn't be the first time my muddled mind had managed to forget something. I jumped back in the water because I was getting very cold and took a careful look all around the pool. There was no sign of the pelt at all. Braving the cold, I walked out on the beach and did a loop all around the pool. Still no pelt. I stood there shivering in my underwear and then jumped back in the pool to warm up. I couldn't figure out what had happened to the pelt. It was possible some animal could have taken it, but I figured that I'd have heard that. Maybe an elf or a dwarf or even a pixie snagged it. It was probably too heavy for a pixie to lift, but if a lot of them had decided to take it, it would have been manageable. For a minute I wondered if one of the other guys had taken it. I'd been very careful though, and I was pretty sure there would have been some teasing involved if they'd taken it.

Those sort of thoughts ran through my mind for awhile, along with ideas of what to do. I thought about staying in the pool forever, but that sounded too much like taking a bath for some reason. I was also getting a little bit hungry and there was definitely not any food around the pool. I came up with a few ideas that involved wishing or teleporting, but figured none of those were going to happen anytime soon.

By this time it was beginning to get dark and I figured I'd have to come up with a real plan. I thought about just running back in my underwear, but the thought of anyone seeing me terrified me. Bad enough for one of the other Lost Boys to see me, it'd be horrible if an elf saw me. That'd be one of those stories that would end up living forever. While pondering that undesirable event, I noticed the vines. There were tons of them hanging down the rocky sides of the banks of the waterfall. I stood and stared at them for a moment and then tried to remember that rhyme I'd been taught. "Leaves of four, touch no more?" Leaves of four, you'll be at Death's door?" Neither one sounded right. "Leaves of three, you can touch for free?" "Leaves of three, safe it be?" Those didn't sound right either, but at least they didn't sound as wrong. I chose the vines with the three leaf clusters and began to pull down as many as I could. Once I got all the vines pulled down, I started wrapping them around myself. I eventually ended up wrapping myself in green from armpits to knees. I looked down at myself. I looked a little bit… okay, a lot weird, but it covered everything.

I crawled back through the thistle patch and picked up a ton of scrapes and cuts, but none of them were too deep. I took a quick look around and then started heading back for the path that led to the Tree. By the time I got to the path, I was freezing, I had scrapes all over and my feet were killing me. I wondered how I was going to explain the lost pelt to Peter. I pushed through the last bit of brush and stood on the trail. I carefully checked both directions and was relieved not to see anyone. I had taken two steps along the trail when I saw it flapping in the breeze. Tied to a tree branch about a hundred feet above the ground and fifteen feet away from the tree trunk was the bear pelt. I looked at it for a few seconds and sighed.

I moved towards the tree in what started to be a walk, but ended up being some sort of ill-conceived skipping maneuver. The path was thickly strewn with rocks and the area between the path and the tree had a ton of burrs and stickers. The skin on the soles of my feet had gotten pretty thick, but not thick enough to resist thistle punctures. When I got to the trunk of the tree, I spent a minute picking pebbles and burrs out of my feet. The tree was one of the tallest pine trees I'd ever seen. It wasn't big around, it just seemed to reach towards the clouds. I wondered exactly how whoever had gotten up the tree since it wasn't a real good climbing one. The first branches started way above my head.

I suppose it was a good thing I had ended up with bare feet. I put my arms most of the way around the trunk and started digging at the bark with my toes. I got a few inches off the ground when one of my feet slipped and I ended up on my rump back on the ground. I stood up, picked the thistles from my rump and tried again. When I was a kid in the 'real' world, I used to have to try and climb ropes and poles in gym. I hated it for the obvious reasons and was beginning to feel the same way about this tree. It took me about a dozen attempts before I finally reached the lowest branches. By this time my outfit of vines was beginning to look well worn and I was beginning to itch all over. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I had messed up on the way the rhyme was supposed to go.

With a lot of grunting and groaning, I climbed to the branch that my pelt was tied to. I was beginning to feel a bit dizzy because the trunk of the pine tree was so slender that my weight was causing it to sway back and forth with every movement I made. My admiration of whomever had tied my pelt to the end of the branch grudgingly went up. The branch it was tied to was very slender and started to bend as I started out onto it. There was no way it was going to be able to support my weight. I looked down to see that the branch below it was a lot thicker. Unfortunately it was about six feet below it as well. I made it back to the trunk and climbed down to the branch below it. This branch looked sturdier, and didn't creak or bend nearly as much as the other branch when I eased out onto it. The problem was, there was no way I could get to the branch that my pelt was tied to because I wasn't tall enough. I watched as the bear pelt flapped just beyond where I could reach, as though it was daring me to come get it. I looked down at the branch I was on again, judged how far the pelt was hanging down and had an idea.

I took a few deep breaths, took another look at the pelt and then lumbered along the branch as fast as I could manage. I made it to the pelt as the branch below me made a large cracking sound. It didn't quite give way before I lost my balance on it. I managed to throw myself forward and grabbed the pelt. For a moment I hung in mid-air suspended by the bear pelt. There was a ripping sound and the lower leg of the pelt that my left hand was holding was no longer attached to the pelt. The hole in the knee had ripped all the way around the leg. I dropped an inch or two. There was a moment of silence, and then the branch that the pelt was hanging from parted company with the tree. I fell straight down, and somehow managed to land on the branch I'd gone across on. I windmilled for a few moments and thought that a miracle of balance was occurring. The miracle didn't last long as the branch that had broken from the tree hit my head and bounced off. It wasn't a really heavy branch, but it did cause a few stars. Before they cleared, the branch I'd been standing on had enough and also parted company with the tree. I was the ball in a pinball game as I bounced from branch to branch. I landed front first, but had managed to hold onto the bear pelt. I let out a groan as I slowly rolled over to discover that there were a couple of long strings of vine trailing from the branches above to where I was lying. I looked down to discover that I was no long wrapped in the vines of what apparently was a noxious plant since I had welts and a rash all over my stomach and chest. I was also lying next to a tree by a trail in nothing but my underwear and one or two vines. I decided to fix that as soon as possible.

Fate isn't a thing that Lost Boys are supposed to be subject to. The few times I've had conversations with one of them or their minions, they let it be known they weren't happy with this state of affairs. Yet sometimes I thing that if Lost Boys aren't subject to Fate, it at least has an influence on us. Why else, before I had a chance to even stand up, would a couple of elves come tramping down the path. I hoped if I closed my eyes that they might not see me, but was rewarded with the stomping of feet suddenly stopping.

"What do you suppose that is?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps it's some sort of mural that's being done. Maybe a theme of poison ivy humiliation."

"Why do you suppose he has those vines trailing from the tree to where he's lying?"

"That probably signifies the eternal struggle of the balance between nature and Lost Boys and how if the scale tips too far, one can only be held by a thread."

"You believe that to be true?"

"No."

"Are you sure he's a Lost Boy? He doesn't have one of those pelt things."

"Of course he is. Look at those feet, they're filthy. His hair is disheveled beyond belief and his face is dirty."

"I see. You're absolutely right. Mayhap do you have canvas and paint? Such an attempt at art should be memorialized forever."

I didn't stay to hear anymore. Moving faster than I'd have thought possible, I managed to jump up, grab the pieces of pelt that were under me and take off like the wind. I stopped just long enough once I was in the woods, to put on the bear pelt that had one long leg and one short leg.

Once I was sort of clothed, I slowly wandered back to Hangman's Tree. I wondered who had stolen the bear pelt and hung it in a tree while I was swimming. After pondering for a long time, I shrugged and figured it must have been a group of pixies who had stumbled across the swimming hole while I was in it. I squeezed through my trapdoor and dropped into the common room. There on the table was a piece of paper. On the piece of paper was a needle and a ball of brown thread. I looked around, but there was no one to be seen. One of them had not only pulled the joke, but had watched everything that happened after. I sighed. Payback on this was going to be very difficult.