Chapter 3

Neverland And Surprises

"I sang a hymn

To bring me peace

And then it came

A melody

It felt so sweet

It felt so strong

It made me feel like

I belonged

And all the sadness inside me

Melted away

Like I was free..."

Happy, Marina and the Diamonds

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Neverland was a hotel headed by its proud owner, Mr. Peter Stradivarius. He had inherited this little building on a pension 15 years ago, and was at the time delighted with it. It did not look like much back then, but it was his and was placed in Manhattan, New York. Talk about winning the lottery; this was winning the jackpot! To have no sentimental ties with the dead guy, who had absolutely wanted the house to stay in the Stradivarius family, had just been the icing on the cake.

After years of working behind a desk for a company and a job he had hated, Peter had been more than glad to put all of his savings into paying the death duties and renovating this treasure so that it became a hotel, renting the bedrooms at high prices because of the proximity to all of the tourist attractions. This allowed him to live the perfect life - namely reading, eating and sleeping.

Peter had opened Neverland 10 years ago, naming it after his childhood hero at the tender age of 55. He was now 65, but something unplanned had popped up: he was tired of tourists. Everytime one crossed Neverland's door, Peter only had one thought: to strangle his soon-to-be client, who would be dull, always have the same stories, and never surprise him. Moreover, he hated their kids. Old or young, boy or girl, American or not, noisy or silent; if one came in, Peter's only wish was to throw them away with the trash.

Of course, tourists and their brats being his clients, he had to play nice with them. That was the hardest part for him: to behave in a civil manner. He was to grin, saying hello and welcoming them to the city that never sleeps. The robotic procedure would then continue as he answered their stupid questions, asking them how their day was when they returned from a day in the city. He would then finish by pretending to be interested while he wished them a safe return home.

Yep, he definitely hated his job, and he desperately needed a secretary, receptionist, and housekeeper wrapped up into one - before he ended up in jail for killing a client because said client had chosen to joke with his name: "Mr. Stradivarius? Then you must be very good at the violin, ha ha ha!"

Go to hell.

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While Peter was suffocating under his growing hatred for tourists, Anna-Grace and Bruce Banner were getting to know each other. Everyday brought its share of smiles and flourishing affection and trust. Quickly, this new situation transformed into a loved routine they were both grateful for.

They had been staying at Neverland for a couple of days, and she was washing dishes after cooking lunch. He was sitting at the table behind her, drawing with colored pencils she had bought for him the day before. She was thinking about Bruce and how he smiled at her, thanking her whenever she would do something nice for him. The last time had been with the colored pencils. It broke her heart to realize he couldn't have had lots of gifts if he was that grateful over some cheap pencils. At the same time, it was a healing process for her. Her guilt over not being able to offer Bruce something better than colored pencils was lightened, because for him they were enough. Helping a child, taking care of him, was akin to avenging her past life against Him who had taken away what was hers. Being with Bruce was a second chance, and she was determined to seize it with all of her strength, to enjoy every moment with him as she was doing now.

Her heart filled with joy, peace warming her from the inside. She had to let go of it somehow.

She started humming, like she used to in the past - some family habit her mother and grandmother had possessed, to hum when doing something tedious - until she had made the mistake to marry Him. It was some stupid modern song she had heard in the lobby that morning. Her voice was really low, but it felt good.

Then her defense mechanisms kicked in. She realized she wasn't alone, and she wasn't allowed to sing because He didn't like it. Panic rose into her chest, almost choking her, as she turned to Bruce with an apology behind her lips, ready to swear she didn't do it on purpose…

Her eyes locked onto him. He was looking at her, tiny browns curls swinging slowly from the crest of his head. Bruce wasn't scared or angry - only surprised. His sweet face softened her distress, and she smiled at him, trying to hide what she felt was a near failure. She then turned back to her dishes, her hands shaking.

Bruce's soft and careful voice filled the room:

"Why did you stop?"

She tensed. He must have felt her anxiety, because along with the sounds of a colored pencil sketching on paper, he continued extremely carefully:

"Mommy would stop, too, when Dad arrived in the house." He paused, and then whispered: "I never liked that…it was scary."

Nothing more was said between them because nothing needed to be. Anna-Grace just closed her eyes for a second, trying to contain her affliction. After understanding once more that Bruce could grasp her life all too well, she marveled at his amazing ability to put aside his issues in an effort to help her.

Anna-Grace started washing dishes again while Bruce continued his drawing. She would later start humming again, instinctively, but wouldn't stop that time.

And when the dishes would be done and the drawing finished, Anna-Grace would take it, admire it - a blonde woman and a young child with curly hair - say it was beautiful, and hang it on the fridge. It may have been poorly drawn, but for them it was a reminder of that beautiful afternoon; and for Anna-Grace, that was worth all the masterpieces in the world.

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Later in the week, as Anna-Grace was cleaning the kitchen area, she came upon an empty fridge again. That kid eats for ten! I swear, he must have a black hole instead of a stomach.

She thus took Bruce and went to the grocery store two blocks down the road. They walked slowly to match Bruce's pace, hand in hand and enjoying the sun despite the cold. Once at the store, Anna-Grace quickly took what they needed before going to the checkout, where she found some rubber ducks for the bath. Swiftly, she hid them behind their groceries on the conveyer so that Bruce, who was too small to see all that was on the counter, would remain unaware. He did notice that Anna-Grace was hiding something, but decided that if she did not show him, then he didn't have to know what it was. He had learned that the hard way, having to pretend to be blind anytime - and it was often - that his father bought cigarettes on their way back home. Bruce was very good at not seeing what he wasn't supposed to.

After paying in cash, Anna-Grace again walked hand in hand with Bruce, she carrying the bags, and he, the milk. Once in their apartment, Anna-Grace asked him to go play in the bedroom. He took his colored pencils and papers and went to sit on his bed waiting for Anna-Grace to finish cooking the dinner. He had begun drawing a tree with red and purple apples when Anna-Grace came into the room.

"Hey, Bruce, I have a little something for you."

He noticed that whatever she had was hidden behind her back.

"Really?"

"Yep."

She was smiling, trying to hide her trepidation. Bruce couldn't help but smile in return.

"What is it?" he asked.

She grinned even brighter, finally revealing the item. A family of six rubber ducks met his eyes. The father was blue, the mother yellow, and the babies were purple, red, green and orange. The boy was astonished, disbelieving his eyes. It was beautiful.

"But why?" he felt compelled to ask once he at last tore his gaze from it.

"Because colors make life happier. And because they're cute," she answered him, almost laughing.

Her eyes were sparkling, and in that moment she looked so much like his mom that Bruce felt like she was telling him he had the right to be happy with Anna-Grace.

"Mommy used to say the same thing. About ducks and colors."

The blonde woman blushed. Then Bruce laughed and said he loved the ducks. She gave them to him, telling him to put them in the bath because she could hear them asking for one with him.

"Really? You can hear them?"

"Yes, of course," she stated very seriously. "You cannot yet because you have to learn their language first, and it's a very difficult one."

He was amazed. She could speak with rubber ducks!

"And with real ducks?" he questioned.

"That's harder, because they move all the time so you have to be really fast; but yes, I'm not too bad at that!"

He laughed. Anna-Grace could understand ducks?! That was the coolest thing ever!

"Now, go, go, your bath friends are waiting!"

He jumped out of his bed and rushed to the bathroom, ducks in hand. She followed him, smiling. After helping him out of his clothes, putting him in the bath, and turning the water on, she then went back to the kitchen.

While she was cooking, she could only hear small parts of what he was saying softly; but that was enough. Between whispered squeals of, "aaaaah!" and "faster!" and "green duck, go!" coupled with splashes, she knew he was finally having fun in the bath. For five days Bruce had remained motionless in the bathtub, afraid to put even one drop of water on the floor. He was now thinking about having fun, not about best behaviors. At last the bathroom floor would be flooded.

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One week had passed since Ana-Grace and Bruce's arrival at Neverland, and Mr. Stradivarius wasn't in a very good mood - again. When he heard one of his clients coming down the stairs, he thought about hiding under the counter - but it was too late. She had seen him. Luckily for him it was Mrs. Lorien, who not only had a strange name, but also a strange son. He had to admit it; he was intrigued.

Because of this it was less difficult than usual to greet her that evening, even considering his bad mood.

"Hello, Mrs. Lorien."

She did not answer, as if she was lost in her thoughts. He repeated himself:

"Mrs. Lorien? Can I help you?"

She was now standing in front of him. When she raised her brown eyes at his face, her hair slipping around her own, her vacant look cleared. She blushed and laughed awkwardly:

"Hmm, I'm sorry Mr. Stradivarius, I was day-dreaming."

"Nothing to worry about," he grumbled, his suspicions raised. She wasn't day-dreaming, he thought, she acted like I called her by the wrong name.

"Well, anyway," she replied, "I'm here to extend the lease. My son and I will stay here one more night."

"Of course." Tucking at the white mustache he wore with pride, he studied his calendar and price list. With bitterness he decided to raise the cost of the night: "$100 please."

Anna-Grace paled. This was far more than she had expected - not to mention she was running out of money. But after her negligence she had to pretend everything was fine. She paid, and the owner asked her about her week. As she answered, her anxiety grew. Talking about it was only a reminder of her current situation and lack of employment. Of course, she should've seen this coming. She had only saved enough cash to last for a couple of weeks after leaving the country, and that had been when she was alone. She could've slept at a very shady place or worked off the books. But now she had to take care of a little boy, and he was eating like ten adults - and they had only been at the little motel for six days. How could she last another week with Bruce and no job? She had to find something to do, but she also couldn't leave him all alone. This was a nightmare. The logical option, to drop him off at a police station and flee the country, was each day becoming more impossible to accomplish. She was living with a sword of Damocles hanging over her head, and she knew it.

Mr. Stradivarius was now asking her about what she and Bruce did in the city. He wasn't so chatty usually, but she welcomed the slight change of subject.

"We didn't do much; Bruce likes his routines. We only went to Central Park, but he was delighted every time."

Peter noticed how relieved she was to talk about Bruce, forcing him to second-guess his suspicions. She really likes her son.

"Well, did you take him to the carousel?"

"A carousel? I didn't know there was one in Central Park…"

That was enough for Peter to know she wasn't a tourist. Had she been one, she would've looked up activities for kids in New York. The carousel was usually a favorite for young ones.

"Yes, on the corner of 75th Transverse Street and Center Drive; it was built in 1908 and is quite nice to see."

"Well, thank you. I'm sure Bruce will love it!"

"You're welcome, you're welcome. So, are you going back home soon?" Peter asked, falsely carefree.

He waited to watch her reaction and see if she would still pretend to be a tourist. He was surprised when she didn't appear to lie, instead avoiding any direct answer. "I do not know for sure yet. Bruce really likes the city."

Talking about the future brought back all that she had to resolve, and it hit Anna-Grace to the point that she could feel her anxiety coming back like a cannonball. She smiled weakly at Mr. Stradivarius, trying to avoid enduring a heart attack in front of him. After wishing him a nice day, she left for her room.

Watching her leave, Peter felt guilty. Here was, for once, a not too annoying lady, and he was not only letting her get mixed up in her problems, but also adding to her struggles. Maybe she was lying to him about her real name and being a tourist, but it was obvious she had a difficult and complicated life. He barely knew her, but that didn't mean he could act the way he was used to. Especially as she had a kid with her. Despite himself, his heart filled with compassion. It didn't happen often, and he had to admit it felt better than thinking about how he hated tourists.

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The next day when the false Mrs. Lorien and her son went downstairs, Peter welcomed them with a smile. He even offered a candy to Bruce and wasn't offended when the kid declined his gift. No, he was behaving, and proud of himself.

Somehow Anna-Grace sensed this change in Mr. Stradivarius. She guessed the motive behind his abrupt kindness; she should've felt annoyed at such a demonstration of pity, but it was cute and interesting to see a grown man's attitude change because of her difficult situation. The tough looking bear was just a teddy bear, after all. Bruce noticed the change in the man, too, but whether or not he understood why was unknown to Anna-Grace. Mr. Stradivarius might not be as nice as yesterday, but his roughness seemed more genuine now than his polite kindness. When the man had offered him a candy, Bruce had been too scared to accept it. But still, the boy had been eased by that demonstration of sympathy.

As Anna-Grace was putting her black woolen scarf around Bruce before going out, as the day would be extremely cold, Peter asked her if they could have a private word. She glanced at Bruce, smiling to reassure him and asked him to sit at the waiting area in front of the counter while she talked with Mr. Stradivarius. Bruce obeyed, walking over to sit in one of the chairs, his feet swinging above the floor - half because of their shortness and half because of his own slight anxiousness. Anna-Grace and Peter went to the counter, which should've been far enough from Bruce to keep him from hearing the conversation. Except that Bruce was not just any kid, and he could hear everything. He tried not to listen, of course, because he knew he wasn't supposed to, but even with Anna-Grace's scarf around his head, he could still hear them.

"…Mrs. Lorien," Mr. Stradivarius was saying, "I have a confession to make."

Anna-Grace's eyes widened, clearly taken aback. Before she could answer him, he continued,

"I know you gave me a false name."

Hearing this, Bruce's heartbeat quickened. He wanted Anna-Grace to deny something, but she just looked at Mr. Stradivarius, afraid. Again, the man talked before she could answer him.

"I don't care about that; it's none of my business. But I used that excuse to double your room's price, knowing you had no other choice than to pay or to leave, even if you had found out the truth."

The woman was still surprised, but she didn't try to talk now. She just waited for Peter to finish his speech. Bruce was now extremely anxious. Something was going on that he did not understand.

"I apologize. It was unfair to you and to Bruce. I hope you will forgive me. And I intend to make things right." He paused, waiting for Anna-Grace to speak.

"Well…I don't know what to say…" she said, sounding uncomfortable and surprised.

"Ask me what I intend to do to make up for it."

She chuckled, and Bruce relaxed. Anna-Grace seemed more at ease, which meant things were resolving.

"What do you intend to do, Mr. Stradivarius?" she asked, smiling softly.

"I want to reimburse you the difference and offer you a job."

Anna-Grace's smile fell. What is going on? thought Bruce.

"Is this a joke?" She was almost angry now, "Because I have no time for such cruel tricks!"

"You don't understand," answered Peter hastily. "I'm extremely serious. I want to pay you back because it's your money, and I want to offer you a job because I stole from you - and also because I could really use an employee."

Bruce's protector was now looking suspiciously at Mr. Stradivarius. She clearly wasn't convinced.

"Please," Peter said, "hear me out before making any decision."

"Alright, what do you have in mind?"

"I've been renting rooms in this building for a long time now. On this floor, there are two independent apartments. I renovated one before opening Neverland, thinking I would renovate the other one in my spare time. Except that over the last 10 years, I've never had the occasion to."

Anna-Grace was now considering Peter with interest. Bruce still didn't understand what was going on, but if the woman was relaxed, it meant he had nothing to worry about.

Mr. Stradivarius continued,

"My offer is this: work for me as a receptionist and secretary so I can work on renovating the apartment. In exchange, you will have a small salary off the books. Whoever is after you won't find you because of me. I can also let you stay in the apartment for free. I only need a couple of days to make the changes necessary for it to be habitable, but I need more time and someone living in it before I can rent it out. It'll be a win-win situation. Your living in the apartment will keep it in good shape, and I'll have time to renovate it completely if you do the work I do now. Of course, we would need to sign a contract first."

Bruce watched Mr. Stradivarius for the entirety of his speech, understanding something big was going on but not grasping the whole picture. His heartbeat had quickened again, but not because of fear anymore. No, it was trepidation. When the man had finished, Bruce looked at Anna-Grace. She was staring at Mr. Stradivarius, speechless. She blinked, her hands shaking, overwhelmed.

Softly, Mr. Stradivarius said:

"I'm serious about this, Mrs. Lorien."

Bruce looked back and forth between Anna-Grace and the man. When Anna-Grace heard her false name, she relaxed and chuckled lightly, her eyes watering. Her hands were not shaking anymore, but her arms were crossed as if to hug herself. She was smiling, and Mr. Stradivarius laughed.

"I also have to admit I would be very thankful for you to agree on this offer because you would be the one talking to tourists, and I can't handle those anymore."

Anna-Grace chuckled again.

"Well, how could I refuse then?"

Mr. Stradivarius offered his hand and they shook on it.

Bruce ran to Anna-Grace, and without thinking asked her:

"So, are we staying here?"

To say that Anna-Grace and Peter were shocked was an understatement. How could Bruce have heard all of their conversation?

It wasn't a complete surprise for Anna-Grace, she knew Bruce had excellent hearing according to what she learned about him during their flat-sharing week. She knew he was a special boy in many ways. Moreover, Bruce had just shown spontaneity, and he wasn't afraid. It meant he trusted her enough to act freely around her - not to mention someone he didn't know well - and that was worth a thousand surprises. Warmth invaded her more than it had in years, and she smiled at him, answering positively before he understood she was shocked. No way was she going to let him be withdrawn, thinking he had done something wrong. If I ever find the bastard who made him like that, I swear I'll kill him. This thought had often come to her that week - but at least this time she could smile at Bruce and be happy to see him recovering whatever trauma he had suffered in his early childhood. She knew well that it did not mean Bruce would now be an extrovert child and never fear being spontaneous, but it was still a small victory.

She held out her hand to him, and after he took it with a smile on his face, she turned to Peter.

"So, why don't we visit our new apartment?"

Peter was still in shock over Bruce's incredible hearing, but seeing how Anna-Grace was looking at him, silently asking him to get over it, he smiled and opened the door on the left of the stairs, thus leading them toward the apartment.

The place was dusty and was, indeed, in need of renovation; but, as Peter said, only a few changes were necessary before it would be livable.

"So, as you can see, on your right you have the kitchen, one bedroom, one bathroom; on your left, the living room, the second bedroom and bath."

Bruce was clinging tightly to Anna-Grace's hand while they visited their soon-to-be apartment. It was considerably bigger than the apartments upstairs, having more than 2 rooms, and was bathed in sunlight. Noticing the windows in every room, she was glad to see they would have light during mornings and evenings, an important detail in winter and its short days. After some clean up, it could really be lovely, she thought.

"So," asked Peter, "should we sign our contract?"

"Why don't you tell me first what my job will entail exactly?"

He grinned at her abrupt answer, explaining,

"Well, mainly welcoming the new clients between 4-7pm, as you know, and taking the key when they leave, between 7-10am. I have a cleaning lady, so you won't have to do the rooms. Neverland has only four apartments on each of the two floors, so we don't have that many clients. Besides, the service is poor around here, and people know that. Just smile and be nice to the kids, that'll be enough. They might have questions, but usually if they do they come to the counter during the leaving and arriving hours."

She was quite surprised.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"Yes, I have to admit I don't do a lot. My patience diminished with the years, and I never liked waiting on people."

Anna-Grace studied the room, taking the time to weigh her decision, even though she knew she didn't really have a choice.

"I agree," she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back, indicating the back room with his hand.

"Good. I wrote the contract yesterday, just in case, so let's go to the lobby to sign it now."

Mr. Stradivarius obviously wasn't one to procrastinate, remarked Anna-Grace to herself.

She followed Peter to the counter in the lobby, Bruce's hand in hers. The child had been quiet since his outburst, looking silently at the apartment. However, he didn't appear to be afraid or sad, so she decided to deal with this later.

Peter drew out papers from under the counter, signing and handing them to Anna-Grace. After reading it carefully, she signed it too, knowing she would never be able to uphold it. She felt hopeful, though, even optimistic. This may be our chance, she thought. While her new boss was putting the contract away, he asked her where they were going.

Puzzled, she realized she might have to cancel her plans if she had to work today.

"At the carousel," she answered, with false nonchalance, even though inside she was disappointed. I was so thrilled to show it to Bruce.

Peter raised his head to look at her, seeming to sense her discomfort.

"Well, given we just signed this contract, why don't you and Bruce carry out your plans to celebrate today?"

Anna-Grace didn't know what to say. Again, Bruce surprised her. He tugged on her hand, silently asking her to bend over, telling her with timidity:

"Can we go? I really want to see the horses in the carousel and the ducks in their pond."

He almost sounded guilty, having the nerve to ask her something; Anna-Grace couldn't help but smile to reassure him unofficially congratulating him for his bravery. She got up and turned to Peter, thanked him, and she and Bruce, hand in hand, left for Central Park.