Flying

Chapter 34: Tootles

I don't normally put notes in the beginning of my chapters, but here goes! I finally did it! I got another chapter out! Thank you so much for your patience as I have been editing like crazy. Enjoy the chapter below. For those of you who did not want to read all the edits (completely understandable), I have included a list of the major changes in the ending note for your personal edification. 

One more note:

I have been nominated by the lovely oneiric_atlas in a contest, but I need five people to comment on my nomination (under fantasy) to be eligible! If you enjoy Jimmy's story, please comment "I agree" on my nomination. Thank you so so so so so so much!!! The link to the contest is here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/170685401-1st-biannual-new-beginnings-fiction-awards-open 

An awful shrieking tears through the grey dawn. Jolting upright, I look around, drawing my swords with a swift movement. Some type of monster from another world must have found its way to Neverland. The noise screeches through the air again. I whip my head around to the direction it came from. Peter is standing with his hands cupped around his mouth, letting out the most horrendous shrieks.

"What the blazes are you doing?" I yell at him.

"Come on, boys!" Peter calls out. "Let's get cracking!"

The teenagers seem completely unfazed by the earsplitting racket. Slowly, they begin to roll out of their blankets and break up the camp. Peter approaches me with a wide grin.

"Well? What do you think of my rousing method?"

"I should have known that any sound that horrific had to come from you," I reply as I sheathe my blades.

"I can see the early morning has a charming effect on your temperament." Peter takes my hand and brings it to his lips.

I snatch my hand away before his mouth can touch it and stalk over to my sleeping area. My blanket has already been folded neatly and placed with a bundle of other supplies. I must admit that these boys are extremely efficient even though they are a pain in the neck.

"Miss?"

A soft voice catches my attention. One of the smaller boys is signaling to me surreptitiously. Walking across the clearing, I start casually tying the packs next to him. He shoots an anxious glance around, but no one is paying attention to us.

"Miss," he whispers again. "Is it true that you're going to send us home?"

"What's your name?" I ask him in a hushed tone.

"They call me Tootles," the boy replies, "because I used to play the flute. Back on Earth. But my real name is Mauricio."

"How did you get caught up with Peter?"

"After my mummy died, I didn't have anywhere else to go. I ran away from my foster family because they beat me. Peter found me, and he took care of me for years." The boy looks up at me. "But I do miss being home."

"Well Mauricio," I place a hand lightly on his shoulder, "I'm going to get you back there."

Mauricio's eyes brighten for a moment, and a wide smile stretches across his face. Suddenly, his hands begin to tremble. His bundle tumbles to the ground as his body begins to shake violently.

"Tootles!" A boy yells.

The campsite comes to a halt as the group gathers around Mauricio. Slightly wraps his arms around the small boy's body and cradles him gently.