CHAPTER TEN: LEAKY ROOFS

She was scared, for the first time in a long time. Since they'd arrived in Neverland they had never been apart for this long. Sure, they'd started off drifting into different crowds: Angie with the smalls, Jacob with the boys, and her with Peter, but they had never actually been by themselves for this long of a time since they'd arrived in their new home. And now it would take forever before she could even go out looking for him.

They had spent the whole afternoon at the Water House until the sun was just above the trees. Then the wind had picked up and brought with it the clouds and soon the rain. They had given it a good run home but in the end were just as drenched as they would have been if they'd not bothered to dry off at the Water House.

All throughout the night they could hear the monstrous globs of water hitting the ground above them. They heard it as they fought their way out of their wet clothes that now hung above a vine Moira had stretched across the living area. They heard it as they huddled around a boiling pot of stew and a bowl of cut up brown bread. And it continued on while they all cuddled under various blankets trying to keep warm since they were sparsely dressed.

But Jacob was not amongst them.

Tin-Tin and Book had left after Jacob and were in the Underground House when they arrived, but had not seen her brother. Knowing that Tin-Tin and Jacob didn't particularly get along, Moira wondered if he was avoiding the house until more people came home and he could skirt a fight between himself and the other lost boy. But soon dinner time rolled around and her brother, who could scarcely feed himself out in the wild, had still not arrived, a disturbing fact only overshadowed by the growing lack of concern over his absence.

Peter had so many men at his disposal but more importantly they were his friends, free to come and go as they please. It was quite backwards from most other families back in London that always needed to know where their children or siblings were at most points of the day. Aside from the few days Peter kept her Underground she was shocked at how freely she could come and go without worrying him, yet she still made it a habit of telling him her destination or plans for the day.

Peter was currently lying on the big bed with several other boys, his head dangling off the side and seeing the world upside down. Moira had crept upon him, emerging in his sight with her blanket wrapped around her head like a babushka.

"I'm worried. Jacob's not back yet," She said.

Peter took in Upside Down Moira's words, pursing his lips. "He's probably out having fun in the rain. Haven't you ever danced in it when there's no thunder or lightening?" Moira shook her head, "It's fun, like swimming but above ground."

"Do you do that often? Dance in the rain?"

He shrugged, "All the time. It's the closest thing to feeling like the mermaids do. And when you look at the sky and open your mouth," he did extended his jaw and Moira could see down his throat, "it's better tasting then any stream in Neverland."

Moira had never pictured Peter doing anything of the sort, but hearing the way his words wisped together in his own style of storytelling suddenly made her picture him doing just that. She usually pictured him flying whenever he crossed her thoughts but now she saw him spinning in a large open field, his arms extended and his head tilted back as he laughed at the sky, swallowing water and smiling.

But she could also picture Jacob running through the forest as well, lost and wet, wondering where everyone was. "I think we should go look for him."

"It's still early. The other boys have stayed out later then this and I haven't gotten worried before."

"I know but this is Jacob!" She protested.

The blanket to Peter's right started to move and a head appeared from underneath and peeked over the edge of the bed. Tin Tin's eyes squinted and then narrowed at her. By now she was learning the difference between the two emotions his eyes took, as this was his favorite face to make at Jacob and more recently at her as well.

"What about Jacob?" He grumbled.

"I'm worried he's not back yet."

Tin Tin raised one eyebrow, "Huh, I wondered why I didn't hear any whinin' since we'd gotten back."

Moira rolled her eyes, "He's not that bad."

"Are you kidding?" Suddenly his voice went mockingly higher, "Shove over, there's no room/Why do you have to go so fast/slow down/I can't eat that, it's gross!"

"Shut up—" Moira said, but Peter got into the middle of them and banished Tin Tin back under the sheets. Moira didn't know what to do except defend her brother. Peter seemed indifferent yet she spent the next few minutes saying that Jacob was different even to some boys in London, that he hadn't lived like the other lost boys until recently, that Tin Tin seemed to be the only one so openly aggressive with Jacob.

"Hey, it's alright," Peter assured, "He doesn't bother me at all. The way I see it he actually just reminds me of one of the smalls." Peter laughed a bit at that and it made Moira a bit cross.

Not at Peter for comparing Jacob to one of the smaller lost boys, but at Jacob and his inability to be like the rest of the tribe. They had all adjusted to their new life quite quickly, despite having no electricity and all the toys they'd had access to back home. But Moira looked at it like an adventure, adapting to a life her own mother and grandmother had perfected before her. Though Gram probably didn't have to adjust too far, having somewhat of an ability to cook and sew that was common for girls her age back in the early part of the century.

"Thanks for being nice about it," she said meekly. "But I guess I just get worried since he's out there on his own."

"I feel your worry Madame, the same you would feel for any of your sons—"

"Brother."

"Whatever," he sighed. "Tell you what. If he's not back in the next couple of hours when it starts to get dark I'll go have a look around."

Moira knew this was the best she would get unless she physically went out there herself that very moment and started searching for him. She resided herself to it because while she got sick at the thought of Jacob being stuck outside in the rain, she did not particularly feel like going out there and getting lost herself. The more she thought about, she was probably just being silly. It wasn't dark out yet and Jacob had been outside in Neverland dozens of times by now; he would surely find his way back even though the rain sounded as if it were getting harder.

The sound of the rain hitting the earth of their home actually was beginning to thunder about them and then several things happened at once. The sound of a thousand year old tree root breaking filled their ears, followed by the pattering of dirt, root and rock hitting the floor of their home. Then came the rush of water.

Part of the earth ceiling to the right of the wall had collapsed, the dresser underneath now covered with mud and wet. Some of the children on the floor had shrieked and run when the water had fallen. Tink's apartment, just next to the dresser, had avoided the worst of it but Nibs and run over and grabbed it to keep it from getting further damaged should the roof decide to give in some more. A gush of water had fallen through the hole like a waterfall but it was starting to slow down as everyone scrambled to try and move as many personal possessions away from the spreading puddle.

Peter had flown up to inspect the damage and then called Nibs over to take a look as well. Tink's apartment was now safely on the other side of the room and the fairy had emerged quite cross and dizzy from suddenly having her home flung about like Dorothy's house on the way to Oz.

Nibs squinted up in the whole, blinking away some drops of muddy water that fell near his eyes, "Part of the tree roots must have sunk too close to our roof. Rain musta helped it along."

"Can we fix it?" Peter asked.

Nibs pushed the protruding tree root upward. It took some effort but he was able to force it back into a similar position. "If we can gather some sap, bark, and really tough clay dirt we can stuff it all around the root to keep it in place as it keeps growing. Can seal it all back up like a bandage."

"We've only got a little bit of sunlight left and this rain may go all night," Peter concluded before turning to everyone looking up at them. "Attention men, we need to go gather supplies quick before it gets dark. I need all hands on deck and ready to go in a few minutes. We'll need thick clay, sap, tree bark or anything else you can think of we can stuff into the hole and around the root to keep it in place while we get a seal over it."

Everyone got up and put on appropriate gear. Moira didn't even bother to put her nighty back on and decided to just go about in her underclothes and a shawl she'd found. She'd just picked up a bucket for whatever she'd find when she looked up at Peter who was still floating about near the roof.

"Dancing in the rain is more fun, I imagine, when it's not in your living room."

Jacob placed his bound hands over his mouth to try and control his breathing. He'd kept his eyes open, looking everywhere and nowhere in an effort to focus on something. He'd tried closing his eyes but that just made him focus on his cramping legs and the blood rushing to his head. From the sound of the voices he knew there were more than one somewhere off to his left but he couldn't tell how far away.

He stiffened and stopped moving completely when, even with the blood rushing into his ears, he heard several twigs snap just below him. The trees branched provided somewhat of a cover but when he dared tip his head back to look at the ground he saw just how badly this could go if they only looked directly up. He could see two of them clearly and he prayed that they were the only ones out there.

"Cousin you'd better hand that pole over before I find it and shove it somewhere ya don't want it!" An American voice yelled out. It reminded Jacob of westies he would watch with Tootles.

"Hold your horses, man! Only got two hands." Another similar replied.

Two men were making their way through the bush, one was taller and broader and darker than other but there was no denying a kinship between them when you really looked. Alf Mason, the ship's carpenter, was holding his hand out to his lighter haired cousin, Charles Turley. "I'll make sure you've got matching set like the captain if you've tangled them lines in another tree."

"Ain't tangled nothin'! Want them catfish as much as you do!" Turley handed one of the poles over to Mason.

The men were first cousins from a very large and spread out family that started in the backwoods of Georgia where Turley was born and bred, continued on toward Texas where his mother's sister had Mason, and even to California where Mason's uncles has settled. The men had met as teenagers and soon struck out on their own taking any jobs that were short and quick in the pay department. Mason's trade was carpentry, making him valuable as the ships builder as well as impromptu surgeon. When the captain had lost his hand Mason was required for days to make sure infection didn't take Hook before the rage did. They were sure that the man was actually dying from anger deep setting into his body and bones and releasing itself in putrid fever that almost threatened to take him to be with Davey Jones. Mason's pride and joy was the ship he helped keep and the hook adorning the captain that kept it. While he had training in both carpentry and blacksmithing he decided to take on Billy Jukes as an apprentice to take on at least one.

That was Jukes' graduation project of sorts, when the captain donned his hook for the first time and gave a rare smile that portrayed his malice and gratitude. Jukes was now often commissioned to make other replacements for the hook when the captain needed the appendage for other uses, like the combing of the hair and such.

Turley seemed to need it to comb out the fishing lines with how often they were getting caught on the way to their fishing spot. They knew of a stream not too far up ahead that was slow but wide, reminding them of the rivers back home—and the catfish that came with. They would set up the line and then go noodling for the fish if need be.

They continued walking through the underbrush, batting the branches out of the way. Both completely unaware of the trembling boy hanging like a bat merely yards above them. Jacob waited until the vines and the leaves became still after the brothers disturbed them, and then he waited until the birds and crickets began their music once again, and even then he waited until all the blood rushing to his head became too much.

Jacob struggled to get back down the tree, all thoughts of the direction of home being forgotten and was now concerned with going the exact opposite way the pirates had gone. He tumbled off the smallest branch and hit the ground, his red face looking in every direction as he began to take off through the forest, munching at the rope around his wrists the entire way. It must have been at least a half hour and bleeding gums when Jacob finally freed himself. But now as he looked around and tried to make heads or tails of where he was, he realized he hadn't the faintest clue.

'I know, I'll try flying again' Jacob thought. And he shut his eyes and tried to think of the happiest thought he could. When he didn't move and inch he tried singing his favorite song again, like when he and Moira had jumped off the rocks. When it still didn't work he was at a loss. What was wrong with him? He took a deep breath, wondering if he all he needed to do was calm down in order to be able to fly again. He was too stressed, too unhappy, that must be what was enabling his flight.

"I am calm, I am happy," he said as he fanned himself to try and slow his heart rate down, "I am relaxed, I am calm, I am happy." He repeated this to himself several times as he took a seat down on an overturned log. He took long and relaxing breathes. "I am calm, I am happy, I am fine." He leant farther back and almost jolted when the ukulele on his back brushed against the tree behind him, moving the strings. He slung it off his back and brought it on his lap.

"I am calm, I am fine," he brushed a couple of cords absently, "I am fine, I'm fine. I woke up this morning feeling fine." The cords began to take shape, his fingers moving as if they had always been born. "There's something special on my mind. Last night I met a new girl in the neighborhood," Jacob kept turning his head this way and that, looking for what he didn't know,

"Woah yeah. Something tells me I'm into something good."

He experimented with the strings he thought would make the right sound, noting that this would have sounded better with his guitar. Where was his guitar actually?

"She's the kind of girl who's not too shy. And I can tell I'm her kind of guy. She danced closed to me like I hoped she would."

Jacob could recall he had one, but whether it was back at the underground house, or at his other house he didn't remember. He had a name for it didn't he? Oh yes, he remembered he called it Marilyn. Looking down at his ukulele as he hummed the chorus part, he wondered if he'd ever given it a name.

"We only danced for a minute or two but then she stuck close to me the whole night through. Can I be fallin' in love? She's everything I've been dreamin' of."

He felt a bit bad for it now, poor little nameless thing. After this song he would begin walking in the general direction where he thought home was, and come up with a name for it on the way. That would distract him! He looked beyond the trees above him and for a moment the foreboding feeling of being lost dipped his stomach.

"She's everything I've been dreamin' of—Aaaaaaahhhhhh!"

He had looked behind him to see if the landscape would offer him a different clue as to what direction he should go. Whipping his head around he had come face to face the savage girl who had captured him earlier. He scrambled off the log he had been sitting on and crab crawled backward.

She was just leaning against the tree that had been at his back. When he had gotten enough distance between them he clumsily picked himself off the ground, poised to run or fight depending on what she did. She kept his eyes on him for a moment before casting them downward, then climbing over the overturned log in a cat-like manner that both impressed and scared him. But it wasn't his direction she went for, but for his ukulele he had dropped on the ground in his fright!

Oh holy fish fingers no!

Surprising himself with how quickly he dove for the one possession he seemed to have in Neverland, Jacob was able the grab the ukulele with one hand, land on his opposite shoulder and barrel roll into a stance that would impress any of his sports teachers back in England. Upon standing he then crouched and held up the instrument like a bat, ready for the savage girl if she took one step near him.

But she didn't.

In fact she was in complete juxtaposition to him, all relaxed and casually looking at him like she wasn't afraid at all. She probably wasn't, knowing she could already disarm him if she really wanted to.

But she didn't.

It had been ridiculously easy trailing him through the forest once she got her bearings. He had left a trail of broken branches and footprints that reminded her of a trampling babe just out of his papoose. She was just honing in on him when something else caught her eye: footprints, BIGGER footprints.

She had stood stiff straight, her hands ready to go for the dagger at her belt. Only her head moved as it rotated, letting her hawk eyes take in everything she saw in the forest. Her ears tuned in to listen to sounds no white man had ever been taught to listen to.

Expect the loud, gruff voices of pirates. Even pale-faced lost boys could pick up on those. She followed the footprints carefully, the voices becoming more distinct the closer she got. She had no intention of taking on grown pirates, instead her purpose now was just to observe and see what direction they were heading.

There were two of them. They cackled and spoke in such a way that told Lily Pad they were not in the woods with the purpose of hunting her tribe or Peter's boys. They carried fishing poles and were heading in the direction of a nearby river. She silently retraced her steps and then decided to head in the opposite direction from which the pirates came. She took in the darkening sky, the day not even half over but the foreboding clouds moving in with the wind would bring heavy rain. Declaring her hunt a failure she resigned herself to begin heading closer to her village.

Then she heard something. At first she thought it was a strange song bird but the music it was making was unlike anything she had ever heard. It drifted through the forest and beckoned her closer, her curiosity peaked as she then heard a human voice singing along with the bird perfectly in synch. And that's when she came upon the boy from earlier.

He was sitting on a log, completely oblivious to anything around him for a moment. She didn't see a bird, but instead saw him brushing his hands against the wooden thing he had had strapped to his back earlier. Thinking it was some kind of weapon she had dismissed it for anything special, in fact she thought it was a badly made bow. But now he was holding like a baby, brushing his hands against what looked like four tiny strings attached to the top and bottom and they produced sharp, jovial sounds she had never heard before. It was a music maker!

She didn't mean for him to see her but as he continued singing and strumming, she found herself getting closer, wanting to see how it worked exactly. How did he make that string produce that sound? Was it really thin rope? What was it called? And what was the name of that funny song he was singing?

When he took notice of her and screamed she didn't take offense to it. She was mad that he had stopped playing. He now held it like a weapon at her but she didn't want him to break it! When he had dropped it she thought he would run away without it, meaning she could take it. But he had taken it back so quickly she knew he cherished too much to leave it.

"Play," she said

The boy looked stunned, "What?!"

She rolled her eyes and put her bow over shoulder with the string across her torso. The arrows safely in the sack she shouldered as well. She was done hunting today and wanted him to know it. Then she sat down on the log he had just vacated, and mimicked with her hands the strumming motion she had seen earlier.

"Play."

Well FINALLY I have updated and Jacob's story is about to get interesting. I have started putting away specific times a week to get any writing projects done (Besides this fanfiction I am also working on starting a blog and little short stories) so hopefully it won't be a YEAR between updates anymore. It's amazing how focused you can get when you leave your apartment and go to a café to focus for a few hours.

The song is once again "I'm Into Something Good" by Herman's Hermits

Little recap and thoughts on the plot developments:

So tension is growing in the house and even Moira is getting irked by Jacob's reluctance to assimilate into Neverland as quickly as she and Angie have. Some of the lost boys have issues with him (and it seems with Moira as well) but that's going to come to head much later on. In the next chapter Jacob is going through his 'coming of age' as a lost boy