CHLOE THINKS SHE HALLUCINATES
Chloe looked up at the moon hanging over the Port Authority bus station. It was bitterly cold, and her legs were cramping in the pink Spandex shorts. Chloe wondered if it would start raining. Last night had been a horrible, freezing drizzle.
If a nice or even halfway nice customer came up and she could dive into his warm car—but the johns weren't really out tonight. Chloe looked up again, and rubbed her eyes. She was wearing her contacts, Phillip insisted, so she'd "look like a little girl" but they didn't work so well in the foggy February of Times Square.
Still, Chloe thought she was dreaming. Sailing in the air, just above the Midori Melon Liqueur ad, seemed to be a kid…dressed like Robin Hood. (Chloe recognized the outfit—there were two or three rent-boys in it over on Eighth Avenue, them, the cowpokes and the fake sailors.)
Damn, there he goes, arms out gliding by the Astor Pharmacy…Chloe couldn't be the only one seeing this, black Vernelle with the Dolly Parton hair (and fake boobs) was watching, too.
Robin Hood-boy alighted on a double-parked Honda Civic right outside the Gaiety Theater. Sliding off, he smiled at Chloe. She smiled back, inadvertently. If her mind was going, she might as well be polite. He looked to be about twelve or thirteen, about a year or two Chloe's junior.
Healthy looking, like the Junior Varsity basketball players at Truman Middle School back in Fort Wayne, one had asked Chloe to a dance when she was still Anna Gertrude Skarlovski. Little pudgy Anna, trying to evade her stepfather's wandering hands in the trailer. Sigh.
PETER LOVES TO MAKE NEW FRIENDS, WHAT AN ADVENTURE!
Peter Pan looked curiously at the girl. He remembered the photograph—photos were such cute things, not with much imagination like the oil paintings of old. This was not the Gwen for whom he was searching.
The girl, and some of the others on this ugly street—they were so oddly dressed for such a cold night—though Peter was wearing tights as well—they all were looking at him as if he'd grown a third head. Perhaps it was the flying. That still didn't go over so well this far from Never-Never Land.
The girl, walking carefully in short pants that would better suit an elf, and that elf with glowing tastes, approached Peter warily.
Peter admired her shadow, and his own, still attached after all these years. Wonderful Wendy! She was the first of his Mothers…there had been 33 of them, until Alyce had informed him that Gwen, who had so looked forward to going for her first Spring Cleaning, had disembarked for this curiously foul place.
"So uh, kid. Don't know how you did that hang-gliding without the wings thing, but it's impressive." Vivid Shorts said to Peter, with a reluctant half-smile.
"I am a clever beast!" Peter crowed this, and admired his reflection in a glass advertising "EROTIC SEX, HOT AND WET, and SUCCULENT".
"But you—you don't want company down here, do you?" The girl cocked her head, and one of her bright red locks fell to one pale shoulder.
Peter's hair was a coppery red but nothing like Vivid Shorts, who probably would not need the light of the moon to guide her home. Between her hair and her raiment, she had enough glitter to be spotted by a drunken mole.
"I mean, you don't want action here, not that you'd spend for?" the girl repeated. "You look a little young."
"I love action!" Peter said, and did a somersault in the air. "And I am glorious at it. Or so Tiger Lily says. She says I am as wily and exciting as any of the Indian tribe."
"Hope she has a casino to employ you at." Vivid Shorts uttered mysteriously, and sighed. "You don't look like a blackjack expert."
"Black Jack?" Peter scratched his chin. "I think you mean Black George. He was Hook's Bo 'sun. I am here in search of Gwendolyn…or Gwenny."
Peter reached into his tunic and produced the odd photograph. He still had trouble handling it, and of course Tinkerbell had tried to hide it…bad Tinkerbell! But Tink knew Cascaden, the old wizard (actually Tink's second cousin by magical marriage) who had guided Peter to this odd place…but why would Gwenny come here, across the Atlantic?
He handed the photograph to Vivid Shorts, who apparently had long red claws at the end of her stubby fingers (yes, Never-Never Land would be so good to get back to, creatures weren't as unusual) and the girl stared at it.
"Oh, you mean Peaches, the foreign girl." Vivid Shorts said excitedly. "Yes, she was brought here last week…I heard she was one of Phillip's snatches from over in the U. K. Usually they're shipped from Malaysia, when they're caught but…"
"Taken away?" Peter looked stunned. "I left my nurse independently, just left, because I didn't want to grow up. No one took me."
"Yeah" Vivid Shorts said sadly. "Me too." Vivid Shorts paused. "Hey Peaches!"
At the sound of her shout, a girl of about eleven with dyed curly blonde hair, wearing a ruffled pink dress and carrying a rather vulgar rubber doll-baby wandered up.
"Hallo, Chloe" came the lilting English accent. "I hope Phillip isn't dismayed with me…I've not found any new friends as of—" But then the child saw Peter Pan and jumped up and down in excitement, and Vivid Shorts smiled a little wearily as she watched the two children dance in each other's arms.
"You were going to come for me this April for Spring Cleaning, you bad boy!" Gwen said, laughing and crying at the same time. "I'm so sorry, my tutor—was a very bad man, and he took me away—how is Mummy?"
"Your Mummy is fine, and we will go and see her immediately—"
"And a doctor, too, while you're at it, Peaches may—"interrupted Vivid Shorts…
"And then off to Never-Never-Land!" crowed Peter, laughing. He looked at the girl with the vivid shorts and nodded. "Would you like to come?"
"Peter, I'm afraid I'm kinda stuck here" the glowing raiment girl said a little ruefully. "Besides, someone must explain Peaches um, disappearance to Phillip. She cost a lot."
For a moment Peter looked sad, and Gwen/Peaches ran up and gave Vivid Shorts a hug goodbye.
Then, just as the rain began to start, the two children rose in the air, and flew over the Gulf-Western building and past the moon…