Tiger Lily by Jodi Lynn Anderson
Peter started talking to me, where he had only ignored me before. He seemed to like my company, even though—or maybe because—I couldn’t speak back. But I knew, by listening to his blood, that it was Tiger Lily swirling through his heart. He thought of her every time he looked at me. He waited for her, and I couldn’t tell him why she didn’t come. I’ll admit, I hoped from time to time that her absence would turn his affections to me, now that he noticed I was alive. But in the end, it was neither Tiger Lily nor I who won Peter. Things don’t work out as neatly as that.
I spent most of my time right next to Peter in those days. And so did Wendy. Her visits from the ship were an increasingly unwelcome part of my days.
She loved to sing on her visits, and she had a voice like a bird’s. Whenever Peter was around, she straightened up and fidgeted with her face, moving her palms along her cheeks as if she could smooth her skin, toying with her blond, wavy bangs. Wendy’s heart beat for Peter immediately—there was no slow growing, no dark distrustfulness like Tiger Lily had had, no hesitation. Wendy didn’t believe in situations she couldn’t bend to fit her, so there was no need to be distrustful. She had the blissful confidence of someone who had never been put in a pot of turkey broth to die.
Immediately, she loved Peter, just from looking at him. His wildness, his broken edges, were just things to be absorbed and loved, too.
I hated her, of course. And I had ways of letting her know. I tried to sting her at least once a day: no small feat, considering stinging can be quite painful and exhausting for a faerie. But it wasn’t for lack of her merits that I detested her. For a girl who’d never known the woods, who’d grown up being comforted and pampered, she fearlessly threw herself into life at the burrow and caring for the boys. Where Tiger Lily saw the boys’ boundaries and backed down, Wendy liked to brush them aside with a simple sweep of the hand. She assumed I was Peter’s pet and that, because I didn’t like her, I was jealous.
How Wendy made her way back to the burrow, time and again, through a forest that many found to be deadly, I have to chalk up to a matter of luck and blissful ignorance.
She had a certainty about her that was intoxicating. It was like she took the world and everything in it and compared it to her own rule book, and anything that was out of place was quickly dismissed, and anything that fit was more proof that her system was the right one. Her smile was never brighter than when she was being observed and found pretty.
As the boys were still in the process of putting the new burrow together, Wendy threw in her hat, assuming they’d be lost without her. The boys labored under her confident guidance. They placed doors where she insisted they should go. Tootles slapped his forehead as if seeing the light at times like this, and the twins fell over themselves with how smart her ideas were, and everyone pretended they couldn’t have thought of any of it themselves.
Only Nibs seemed to be dubious of her, and I could see he was the only one who felt there might be a conflict of loyalty between exhausting themselves to please Wendy, and being true to Tiger Lily. But the other boys loved being bossed. For a group of boys who’d always taken pride in their independence, they seemed to love that Wendy wanted to mother them. And Peter, shockingly, loved it most of all.
He often turned to her, confused. “Where should I put this? What should I do here?”
Wendy flicked her finger here and there. And Peter smiled and obliged. It was like someone had figured out the answers for him to questions that had confused him for so long. The nights after Wendy visited, he slept like a log and didn’t seem to dream at all.
For her own part, Wendy had read someone named Jane Austen. She knew romance. As she worked next to the boys, she liked to imagine herself in a novel. Peter was one of the brooding heroes, and she was the heroine, better than all other girls he had ever seen. That was how she got through the days of dirt and mud and bugs. And, of course, by knowing that it wouldn’t be forever.
She wanted everyone asleep at the same time she was, two hours after sundown, because she was a morning person and liked to visit early, so the boys gave up their late nights. They loved to be muddy and messy; she forced them to swim in the river. She carried them soap from her ship, preciously cupped in the hem of her dresses.
“I have brothers on the ship, and they hate getting clean too, but it’s a necessary evil.”
She loved to be looked at, and groomed herself constantly. The woods didn’t allow for her to ever be perfectly clean, but to the boys, she was pristine as springwater.
Peter liked to watch her, her curls and her lily-white skin. She interested and fascinated him. And the truth was, he wanted to forget Tiger Lily, and Wendy was a welcome thing to think about. But when he was in his bed, restless and howling inside, he thought only of Tiger Lily.
As you may have guessed already, Peter had a soul that was always telling itself lies. When he was frightened, his soul told itself, “I’m not frightened.” And when something mattered that he couldn’t control, Peter’s soul told itself, “It doesn’t matter.” So while I trained my ears and tried to listen hard to him, I couldn’t always make out where he was, or what he felt. And so each time he let Wendy come a little closer, I didn’t see what it meant, or how it would end.
By the time I returned to the village for a visit, to see what was happening with Tiger Lily, a hoard of Englanders had returned with Phillip. To my surprise, rather than pulling him away, they had come trundling in … with their exotic gifts and their maps and their curiosity. The village was a flurry of activity.
Though Tiger Lily anticipated the day that they would turn around and leave, and take Phillip and all of his ideas with them, the Englanders appeared to have other intentions—and they’d taken to the village as if it were home. From the looks of the villagers—walking around trussed up in hats and scarves and beads—the Sky Eaters had greeted this idea with open arms. A few of the older women, including Aunt Sticky Feet, muttered and took to their houses distrustfully. But all in all, it was a celebration.
The talk, on the first few days, had been about departures. And now the talk was about how many people they planned to leave behind, to continue Phillip’s work and learn more about the plants and the people, and what they could gain from them, and when they would send more ships back, and what a beautiful and exotic spot it would make for travelers and explorers.
I found Tiger Lily sitting by Tik Tok’s side, in a haze of confusion and disappointment. She wondered if that day behind the waterfall, where all people were forbidden to go, she had angered the gods so much that they had left the village for good.
Tik Tok didn’t seem to notice. But later, when everything had changed beyond repair, she wondered if he must have thought, like she did, that it was the end of their ways forever.
THIRTY-SIX
I followed Peter on solitary walks, when he traversed the edges of the area where the boys now hid and watched for pirate tracks.
We were out on one of these walks when Wendy appeared in our path. She looked like a fawn, startled and unsure.
She smiled. I didn’t like the look of the smile. It was too confident of Peter.
“The boys told me I’d find you somewhere around here.”
“Yeah.”
Peter put his arms up against a bent tree, restless, but happy to see her.
“They’re talking about when we’ll depart,” Wendy said. “I guess we’ll leave some people behind. But of course, I’ll be going.”
Peter nodded, his arms still against the tree.
“Peter, do you ever think of leaving here?” she asked.
Peter shook his head. “Of course not.”
Wendy seemed to be mustering her courage. “You could, you know. I could look after you.” She looked scared. And for a brief moment of compassion, I realized she was just an uncertain human girl, like any girl. “I could love you,” she said to the ground, her voice low with nerves.
Peter was silent for a few moments. He leaned harder again
Wendy looked up and smiled with a trembling mouth. “No. You’re wonderful.”
Peter let out a long, slow breath. Wendy stepped closer. She kissed him, on the side of his mouth. He stood perfectly still. He didn’t kiss her back. But he didn’t move away either.
Later I understood.
Over those next days, I watched her and saw it clearly. When Peter made mistakes, Wendy cheered for him anyway. One afternoon he beat her and everyone else in a race organized by Slightly. She only laughed and squeezed his wrist with easy affection and told him how fast he was. She was so undeterred by losing that it made the boys wonder if winning was exactly what they’d thought it was or if in England it was different.
When Peter got angry with Slightly later that night, Wendy sat beside him at the fire afterward and offered her support. “It’s hard to be in charge,” she said. “They could make it easier on you.” I sat on the log beside her and thought about pulling out each one of her hairs, even her eyelashes. Of course, what she said was true, but it was something Tiger Lily never would have said. Tiger Lily didn’t know how to be encouraging. And I hated that Wendy did, and Peter seemed to relax beside her.
Wendy made it clear, from that first day she arrived, that she could never walk away from Peter, and I suppose this had an effect too. She applauded him, and always sparkled in her eyes when she looked at him. She was like a bandage on his heart, and she tried to be the best bandage she could be, though what she was trying to help him heal from, she wasn’t sure of. And every time she did something nice for him, his anger would say to him that Tiger Lily would never do something like that. Even his thoughts got clearer around her, and easier to read.
I began to see that Wendy had something Tiger Lily hadn’t even known she was supposed to have. Of all the things Tiger Lily had thought she might have to be for Peter—strong, brave; to be big and to keep up—she had never thought that the one thing he wanted most from her was simply to show that she believed in him, always and without fail. For Peter, who feared losing so much, this was a great comfort indeed.
After several more days, he didn’t move down the log when Wendy sat beside him. He got protective, so that when I tried to put dead bugs in Wendy’s hair, or put poison ivy down on the places she loved to dangle her calves, he swatted me away.
And then one afternoon, when they were on a walk, with me lugging a tiny piece of pollen to stick in Wendy’s nose, with a plan of inducing a large quantity of mucus to appear, she kissed him, and for a moment or two, he kissed her back. This sent Peter’s head into another swirl, and Tiger Lily reared up in his heart and all around him. I dropped my pollen.
Maybe it would have been better to stay. But I saw the writing on the wall, even before Peter did. And I couldn’t watch it happen. I made a bunch of useless, angry gestures at them both before I left, but they didn’t bother to try to interpret them. I heard Wendy saying behind me that I was going off in a huff, and it made me sound small, and petty, and pointless. But the truth was, I was choosing. I was going where I belonged.
I am glad I was with Tiger Lily that afternoon, when she walked into Tik Tok’s house and saw he wasn’t in his bed. She thought it was a good sign, that he must be up and out in the village or in the woods on his own, and her heart lifted.
But he was not out in the village, and he did not come back from the woods.
She and Pine Sap followed his tracks. They led to the edge of the river, and went in.
He’d left his raspberry dress on the bank.
THIRTY-SEVEN
She didn’t remember running to Peter’s. I tried to stop her from going. I flew in front of her eyes, I fluttered a wing into her nostril, I bit her on the shoulder. She didn’t swerve once. Her feet took her to a circular clearing near the glade.
Only one figure was there, perched on a rock, weaving something between her fingers.
Wendy smiled when she saw her, but nervously, as if she still considered Tiger Lily a wild animal.
“Welcome,” she said, like the clearing was hers and she was inviting her in. “You look awful. Is everything okay?”
Tiger Lily drifted down underneath herself. This was her one gift more than any other. Silently, she nodded. “Yes. Everything is okay.”
“The boys are out hunting,” Wendy said, looking around as if she needed their protection. The tiny tip of her nose dimpled when she smiled. “I just let them go without me. Peter is doing some thinking. And the best thing is to give them space.”
Tiger Lily nodded again, though she did not know what Wendy meant.
Wendy seemed uncomfortable with Tiger Lily in the clearing. “Why don’t you and I take a walk?”
“Okay.”
Wendy marveled at the tiniest things as they wound through the woods.
Pointing to a poisonous spiky tree, she said, “How wonderful!”
Or, looking at Tiger Lily’s bracelets, she said, “Oh, aren’t you lucky! They’re so unique!”
Mentioning that she’d heard about the wolf pup that Tiger Lily had given to Moon Eye, she exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted a wolf pup! She must love him so much! Can you get me one?”
She held her skirts against her legs as they walked, making sure to slowly avoid this tiny briar and that muddy boggy spot, for out of all the things in the forest, she noticed her dress the most.
They came to a creek, and here Wendy made them turn around.
“I can’t swim,” she explained. “I might get swept away.” Tiger Lily thought of Tik Tok, and for a moment, she wanted to sit down, right there in the middle of the path. But she straightened again as Wendy spoke.
“You’ll miss Peter, I’m sure, if he comes with us. I don’t know if the boys will come too. I hope you won’t be too mad at me, to steal your friends like this. But believe me, it’s for a good cause.”
Tiger Lily tried to process her words. Go to England? Peter?
And it made Tiger Lily float above herself, feel outside herself. Because, wasn’t Peter hers? Wasn’t it her hand that always held Peter’s? How else could it make sense?
“He says he has to think.” Wendy suddenly looked at her anew. “Maybe you should come too. Everyone would love you. You’re not conventionally pretty, but that’s all right. You’re exotic. I live in a beautiful house, it’s a big yellow one, right on Finsbury Circus. We’re an unconventional family,” she said with pride. “You could stay with us. You’d love it.” It was so out of Wendy’s realm of imaginings that Peter could love Tiger Lily that she wanted to include her. She wanted to sweep them both up in her confident happiness. But Tiger Lily was only quiet in return.
“Will you tell Peter something for me?” she said finally.
Wendy nodded brightly.
“Will you tell him that my father has drowned?”
Wendy went still and white, and Tiger Lily nodded a goodbye, then turned and set a path for home.
In all of this there was one bright spot. In the village, the wedding had been pushed back one cycle of the moon, out of respect for the dead.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Tiger Lily’s feet took her to the lagoon. She didn’t plan it, it just happened. I trailed along behind her helplessly. I hovered near her cheek to watch for any tears I could catch for her. But of course, her eyes stayed dry. She sat on a rock. She looked at the space where they had had the dance. She watched for the jellyfish under the water. She had the half-crazy, dazed notion that she could move herself back to another evening just by sitting in the same spot.
She wasn’t paying attention to anything around her; she was moving inside her own endless space. So it took her several moments to see a pair of eyes watching her, just above the surface of the lagoon. Seeing Tiger Lily notice her, Maeryn raised her nose and mouth and chin from beneath the water and swam closer toward her. She smiled. The smile sent shivers through me, and set off ev
“You need me,” the mermaid said, turning her eyes on Tiger Lily. “I guessed you would.”
Maeryn propped herself onto her elbows in the muddy shallow water. Even in Tiger Lily’s grief, Maeryn’s beauty awed her. Maeryn gave her a searching, knowing look.
“The water swallowed your father. The fish saw it happen.” The words rattled around in Tiger Lily’s chest, which seemed to be newly hollow. “And Peter has betrayed you in your moment of need. Am I right?” Maeryn looked at her inquisitively, playing with a tendril of her wet hair and raking a piece of seaweed out of it with her fingertips.
Tiger Lily pulled her knees up to her chin and hugged them. It seemed to be all the answer Maeryn needed.
The mermaid shook her head. “It’s in his nature, like I said. Peter will always be slippery.” She sighed, and reached out to touch one of Tiger Lily’s toes. Though Tiger Lily knew better, she let the mermaid do it. I feared she might drown her, but Maeryn merely stroked her foot, lulling her. “The Wendy girl can’t stay.” She turned her murky green eyes to Tiger Lily’s face, considerately. I was the only one who saw the envy there. Tiger Lily merely shook her head, vaguely agreeing … though she probably would have agreed with any statement said by anyone at that moment.
Maeryn pulled her fingers away and dug a shell out of the mud, studying it. “I have a friend who wants the same things you do,” she murmured, glancing up from the shell. “I can introduce you, if you like. Though I think you may have met briefly before.”
Tiger Lily didn’t answer. I knew the name before Maeryn said it. I flew up to Tiger Lily’s ear and perched on her earlobe. I felt like I was on fire with the weight of what I knew and couldn’t say.