The Pan of Neverland

Chapter 7: Curly

The setting sun cast long shadows across the outfield as mosquitos started to rise into the cool evening air. A boy, leading off first base, turned his head towards the mound and shouted, "We want a pitcher, not a belly itcher!"

Beads of sweat pooled on Henry's brow as he crouched behind home plate, flashing signals to his pitcher and throwing some jaw at the nervous batter. "It's a curve, don't swing." he taunted.

The ball snapped from the pitcher's hand, and the batter stood frozen. He glared back at Henry after the ball soared across the plate. "Hey! You said not to swing." he whined.

With a disbelieving chuckle, Henry said "Why would you listen to me? I'm not on your team."

The next pitch came in right away, and once again, the batter froze.

"You're out!" yelled the pimply-faced umpire, sparking protests from the home team dugout.

"That was only strike two!" the batter argued.

The umpire nonchalantly corrected, "Oh, my bad. Strike two!"

Henry called for another fastball from his pitcher, high and inside, and delivered another quip before the pitch was released. "If my dog was as ugly as you, I'd shave his butt and train him to walk backward."

Having enough of Henry's jeers, the batter turned to punch him but ended up taking the fastball to the shoulder. Wincing in pain, he began walking toward first base.

"No way, kid. You leaned in. That's strike three, you're out. That's the ball game. Tomahawks win; time to go home." the ump declared unenthusiastically.

Henry grabbed his bag from under the bench and shared a few words with the pitcher, congratulating him on the win and laughing at the last batter.

"Next week, playoffs!" the pitcher shouted as Henry took off toward the parking lot. He turned around, shooting both fists in the air, and confidently yelled that they were gonna crush it.

After the game, Henry's mother instructed him to run straight to the parking lot entrance, where she would pick him up. Their plan was to see his grandfather before visiting hours closed. Henry cherished the little time he got to spend with his grandfather; they both shared a deep love for fantastical stories. His grandfather had regaled him with wild tales of a magical place he visited as a child, where he could create with imagination alongside his enchanted friend, Nirian.

Henry adored his grandfather's stories more than anything in the world. The sad truth is, had he not traveled to Neverland that day and forgotten all about his family, he would have learned the horrible reason behind his mother's truancy in picking him up. On that very day, his grandfather had passed away, but Henry would never know.

As the sun began to set, casting an orange and pink hue across the sky, the parking lot emptied out as parents took their children home. Henry stood alone, still waiting for his mother to arrive. The coach, whose car was the last in the lot, pulled up beside him, accompanied by his son, the pitcher.

"You alright, Henry?" the coach asked, concern touching in his voice as he scanned the road.

"Yeah," Henry replied. "My mother is just running a little late. I'm sure she'll be here soon."

The coach furrowed his brow. "Well, I have to get to the rink to pick up Josie, so we can't wait with you. Why don't you let me give you a lift home on the way? I don't feel right just leaving you here."

Henry hesitated, contemplating the coach's offer. "My mom won't be at home," He said, "We're going to Elmhurst to see Grandad. I better just wait. She won't be happy if she shows up and I'm not here."