A Losing Battle {The Land of Ecstasy: Book Three}

Chapter 7

Cal

        I had carried the letters with me for a week. They had been a source of great shame to me, even if I was the only one who knew of them, other than Peter. It made me feel even more dishonest than I had already felt. I didn't want to lie to Howie and Meridia, but Peter didn't give me much of a choice. I had three options: hide the letters, read the letters myself and, after an invasion of their privacy, then decide what to do, or give them the letters and hope Peter wasn't manipulating them enough to cause them to join them. I sighed. None of them were good options, but the letters to Howie and Meridia weren't the worst of my troubles. The letters that bothered me were two: A letter addressed to a young Indian boy, Javier, and the one addressed to me.

        I had met Javier only once before. I didn't see what connection Max could have had with him. The Indians told me themselves, they had never met Max nor Doug. The one time I met Javier, he had made me feel uneasy. Despite being stuck at the age of seven, as Indians did not age, he was absolutely silent, and he seemed much more well behaved than the other young Indian boys. He had eyes that reminded me of Bix's, the way they seemed to pierce through you and analyze everything about you, judging you for everything. The kid had scared me, and it was even scarier to me that Peter had contact with him in a way that he would be one of the four people who were left letters, and that it would be Max's hammock containing it. After all, Max had been the one to pull the metaphorical trigger that had caused this war to finally come, after such a long period of tenseness and uncertainty. If Javier was connected to Max, it must be important. However, I couldn't bring myself to open the letter. I suspected the letters were both private and extremely personal, and it felt wrong to even think about opening the letters.

        The letter addressed to me was the final one, and I suspected it would be devastating to me mentally, but I couldn't bring myself to open it until that moment. That exact moment, however, I realized that I would never win if I opened the letter. I didn't know how or why it was true, but I knew it was. When I opened the letter, it was in a neat font, not the barely-readable scrawl I had come to expect from Peter. The letter read:

Dear Calvin Martin,

    You have come to mean a lot to me over the years. I don't think you quite realize, but it has been apparent to me for a while now that Neverland has not stopped you from maturing mentally, only physically. You have grown up in these past years, and I knew it was only a matter of time before you would want to leave me. But I never thought you would do this.

    I'm sure you've seen the scales of peace tipping in and out of balance of late, and, as I too realized, you knew that war was coming. It was only a matter of time, and I suspect you knew upon Max's arrival that he would be the one to fully start the war. I know you believe Max's death to be my fault, but there is much more to Max's story than you realize.

    Max was born in New York City, 2004, to his parents Lucy Ann (Neook) Fohlder, and John Bartholomew Fohlder. His parents had been filing for divorce when he turned twelve, his mother had no job, and his father abandoned them. Max had been struggling with depression, and he tried to kill himself.

        I paused momentarily, letting that sink in. I knew now where Peter was going with this, but I continued to read.

    That was when I saved him, much like I saved you from the car accident. He agreed to come with me, and for his short time in Neverland that he got to spend with Doug, his life was heaven. Which was why he had further to fall than most, and fall he did.

   When Doug died, Max had nothing left to live for. He had lost everyone he loved, and I don't think he would have ever seen Neverland the same. I won't lie to you, and say I couldn't have stopped him from killing himself. But I will say this: I couldn't have saved him from himself.

    He was bound to feel guilty, because he had a moral code like any other lost boy. He would have felt personally responsible for Doug's death, as Doug had died saving him. I knew that if I stopped Max from killing himself, he just would have tried again and again. No one deserves to live through that kind of misery. I thought I was doing the best I could when I let him kill himself, as much as it pained me to do so.

    I know you may not understand, as you have never suffered a loss quite like his. Your life has not been perfect, but it has certainly been better than Max's, or Doug's for that matter.

    I've left you a book titled "The First Lost Boy". It is my own narrative, but I did my best to keep it entirely neutral. It is the story of my first real friend, James Hook, and why he left me. I decided that it would be best kept with you, as then maybe, as the new captain of the pirates, you could understand why he hated me, and you could learn from both of our mistakes.

    Cal, please keep in mind that I do not want war. I just want to see Neverland united, something I have been trying to achieve for as long as I've been here. Maybe I failed because I wasn't the right person to do it. Maybe that person is you.

    Remember this: Whether we are friend or foe in battle, I am always willing to be your ally.

Take care,

        Peter Pan