Chapter 25: Clues
John tipped his hat.
"Princess Tigerlily…you look…outstanding...radiant …er..."
Tigerlily smiled. She like it when John blushed.
Humbly, the Indian princess twisted back her long hair. She had foregone the single braid and decorated her hair with tiny pink feathers. Now, John's ears where rouged as the feathers.
Shyly, Tigerlily offered John a long fishing pole. Accustomed to her silent gratitude, John shouldered the pole and waved out his arm.
"After you, Princess."
Please by his silly manners, Tigerlily lead the way. Straightening his top hat, John followed, sticking his tongue at the snickering Lost Boys before he left. Tonight was the night: John was determined to hold Tigerlily's hand.
As the two children walked in silence, John noted nervously that he could not have asked for a better night. The moonlit path was dotted with fairies and fireflies. Crickets were chirping, the wind was singing, and sleeping birds hummed dreamily.
John tugged anxiously at his pajama collar; two golden stars were even dancing in Tigerlily's dark chocolate eyes tonight. Wait, had she looked at him? John rubbed away the sweat tickling the back of his ears. Gulping the scented air, John took three long strides to the Princess's side.
Tigerlily lowered her arm, carefully monitoring John's face beneath black lashes. John peered tactfully as it swung idly. John wondered if that was a invitation: something he liked most about the princess was her articulation of movement. Much like himself, Tigerlily rarely took superfluous action. Everything was directed and purposeful.
John decided that Tigerlily was opening the opportunity. Closing his eyes in silent prayer, John reached for the princess's hand.
"Look."
Fingers closing around empty air, John's heart somersaulted into his throat. Switching the fishing pole between his hands to hide his embarrassment, John stared down Tigerlily's arm, which she had raised at the last second.
Tigerlily was pointing at something in the dirt. Peering through the dark, John crouched and adjusted his glasses for inspection. His nerves flared as Tigerlily knelt beside him.
"What is it?"
John rubbed the little object against his sleeve. Reaching across his arm, Tigerlily fingered the golden sapphire comb. Curiously, she looked at John.
"This…"John pushed back his top hat, "…looks familiar."
Tigerlily glanced over her shoulder, suspiciously. "It's pirate gold."
Certainly," John agreed, turning the comb between his fingers. Racking his brain, the boy said, "But it's something else too. Something…" John tapped his index finger against the comb, searching for the right word, "…something relevant. I've seen this comb before, I'm sure of it."
Tigerlily shrugged. "Little Flying Eagle hunts pirate treasure."
"Yes…"John murmured, "but he never keeps it. Always makes us burry it somewhere confounded and exotic. I remember because last time Wendy helped us find the perfect hiding—"
John stopped. Tigerlily watched, fascinated as his light brown eyes ticked back and forth, like they were reading invisible pages.
"It's Wendy's!" John exclaimed, triumphantly slapping his knee, "It's Wendy's by Jove, I remember!"
Tigerlily raised an eyebrow. "She has pirate gold?"
"Not according to her," John swelled with pride, elated that Tigerlily had witnessed his memory in its most polished form, "but Pan seemed to think so, and he was quite offended she had it. Goodness, I thought he burned this in the fireplace. He was so livid!"
John scratched the back of his head excitedly as Tigerlily studied the comb. "Although I don't see why he accused Wendy so! When would Wendy ever have interactions with pirates? Besides, Wendy told us that she received this comb from… a..oh what was it…?"
"A merman?"
John's chest deflated. "Yes," he blinked at Tigerlily, baffled. "That's right."
Tigerlily nodded, too preoccupied with the ambiguity of the situation to realize she had been one step ahead of John the whole time, "Why is it here in the forest?"
"I—errrrrr…" John's ears glowed cherry red, "…someone…must have…dropped it."
"It was buried very deep to be dropped."
"…precisely."
Tigerlily looked up from the comb. John's flushed face made the princess less eager to hunt for clues. Pocketing the comb, Tigerlily gazed at John. Then, picking up her fishing pole the little Indian princess held out her hand.
"Let's go fishing."