Chapter Seven
No way, no way, no way.
Tink looked at me, her eyes curious.
"No way," I finally blurted. "You listen to Linkin Park?"
Peter grinned. "My favorite band."
"No way, they're my favorite band." Gosh, now I had to dump my favorite band and find a new one. I hate life.
Peter Pan smiled, his eyes glowing cheerfully. He hovered above the ground, his feet perfectly together, and sailed backwards to his seat. I just stared. I forgot he could fly.
"Stop showing off, Peter," Tink laughed.
"Faith, trust, and pixie dust," he replied, bowing low, his hat in his hands. His red feather swayed as he floated just above his seat before slowly sitting down. It was so unfair.
"Now that we have great music," began Peter. I waited for him to finish, but he did not.
It was pretty awkward while he was there, but finally after much talk and a few bites to eat he stood up, or rather floated up and bowed low, tipping his hat to Tink.
"Thank you, my fair lady, and of course, her, um," he faltered, "very good friend," he managed. "This was a very splendid morning, but I must go off and find the lost boys. I let them hide the treasure this time." And with that, he was off.
"Faith, trust, and pixie dust," I said softly to myself, "faith, trust, and pixie dust."
Captain Hook's POV
"I want that treasure and I want it now!" I was getting very tired of dead ends and if that was all my crew was capable of I would have to do the job myself. Why did it seem like I always had to do the job by myself?
"Well, Mr. Hook, Captain, Sir," sucked up Smee," if you were to be patienter our plan might work."
"Patient! I've been patient for too long. It needs to work, not might, needs!" I sighed and sat down on a step the led to one of the upper decks. I looked off the ship to the mainland. Neverland looked so peaceful, why couldn't it actually be that way?
"Here you go, Captain," said one of the hands. He was tall, clumsy, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember his name. All well, it probably wasn't important.
But the treasure was. It was very important. And so was Peter Pan, dead that is. Alive he is just an annoying flying brat that can't figure out when a pixie dumps him. But dead, oh when he's dead….
My train of thought was interrupted by a familiar sound.
"Captain, Captain!" cried Smee. "Look, look," he pointed franticly. I sighed and looked over the edge of the ship into the clear blue water below. I saw nothing. How frightening.
"Did you see it?" he asked.
"Yes, this time of year the water can be ever so dangerous. NOW GET BACK TO WORK!" I ordered.
"But Sir," he tried.
"The deck needs cleaning, get to it."
"Sir, in the water."
I looked over the edge again, and this time I saw something dark and big under the surface. Then a ticking sound came up through the water and into my eardrums.
"Oh, no," I moaned. "Not again."
The crocodile smiled at me, licking his lips. Why couldn't he just eat Peter Pan? Why me? I was not a codfish. Really, I wasn't.