Peter and the Starcatchers Read Free Page B

thinking; not knowing why he did it—slipped his hand under the canvas flap, thrusting it forward until his fingers felt the smooth wood.
    “Here now!” said Slank. “What the dickens are you doing?”

    “Alf,” said Mack. “What are you doing?”
    But Alf didn’t hear them. Instantly he was lost in it al again—the warmth, and the smel s, the music and the floating—and it was so good, especial y the sweet song. There was something else in there, too, something the bel s were saying, trying to tel him…. What was it?
    “HANDS OFF THAT CARGO!” Slank yel ed. Alf felt himself yanked away from the trunk, and then the music was gone, and al the other good feelings with it. Alf was wobbly, but with Mack’s help he managed to keep his feet. Alf watched two men carry the trunk onto the ship, and he felt a sadness come over him, because he knew he might not hear the music again. He almost wept, except that a man like Alf didn’t cry.
    Then—he didn’t know why—Alf looked toward the bow, and found himself looking right into the startlingly blue eyes of the orange-haired boy.
    “Come on, Alf,” said Mack, gently tugging at Alf’s coat, concerned about his old friend’s strange behavior.
    But for a moment Alf held stil , his gaze stil locked with that of the orange-haired boy.
    “Come on” repeated Mack. “We’re casting off!” Alf turned and fol owed his friend toward the lines that held the ship to the wharf. After a few steps, he looked back, but the boy was gone. Boys gets into all sorts of trouble, he thought, his ears stil ringing from the music of those bel s.

CHAPTER 3
MOLLY

    P ETER TROTTED AFT on the Never Land’ s bustling deck, dodging the sailors making final preparations for casting off and getting under way. The forward gangway had been detached, hauled aboard, and stowed; now sailors were working on the aft gangway. When they were done, there would be no way off the ship.
    Peter’s plan was to dart down the gangway just before they finished the job and disappear into the bustle on the wharf. He figured the ship’s departure wouldn’t be held up just for him, a mere one boy out of five.
    He had no plan for what he’d do once he got off the ship; al he knew was, he didn’t want to stay on it. He’d seen enough of the Never Land to decide that it was an unpleasant, dirty place, run by unpleasant, dirty men. They were around him now, stinking of sweat, struggling with lines and sails as an officer shouted orders that consisted mostly of curses. They don’t seem like a happy group, thought Peter.
    He neared the aft gangway and stopped, looking for his chance to flee. Directly ahead, blocking his path, stood the first officer, Slank, supervising the gangway crew. Just beyond, two sailors were carrying the canvas-draped cargo that had been brought onto the ship at the last minute. Peter had watched the cargo’s arrival and the little drama that had played out on the wharf. He’d seen the sailor, the one with the big nose wart, reach under the canvas and touch something; he’d seen the look that had come over the man’s face. He looked so happy, Peter thought. Why did he look so happy?
    Peter studied the mysterious cargo now being maneuvered into the aft hold. It didn’t look heavy; the sailors handled it fairly easily. Peter wondered what was inside.
    He was distracted by a giggle, and turned to see a rare sight: a girl. He’d not seen many girls over the past few years; St. Norbert’s had had only one, the headmaster’s daughter, an unpleasant, sal ow-faced child who amused herself by dropping spiders onto the heads of boys passing beneath her third-floor window.
    This girl he saw now in no way resembled the headmaster’s daughter. She had large, wide-set green eyes, and long brown hair that curled slightly and turned to gold at the tips.
    She wore a long, straight blue dress that accentuated the slimness of her frame. She was perhaps an inch tal er than Peter, and by the look of