Just like she had before, Maggie’s eyes opened to see an otherworldly storm causing mayhem above her head. The clouds were dark with collected rain, already downpouring upon a wild ocean. Between the storms, the full moon tried to shine her light down upon the water, but it was no use. There were onlyglimpses of the moon, only the seconds when it managed to peer out from behind the dark, approaching storm. Waves clapped up against the sides of the weak rowboat Maggie was sitting in. The wood creaked as it took on water, hardly able to stop leaks from spouting through the old boat.
The storm did not stop its onslaught for one second, even as the waves rose to a frightening height in every direction. She wanted to grip the sides of the boat to steady herself but Maggie was unmoving. It was in that moment that a shrill cry burst through the storm, one that resembled a newborn child’s relentless wail. Maggie felt the baby’s fear in her own heart as another wave rose high above her head, before slamming back down upon the helpless lifeboat. The water’s strength overpowered the boat’s, and the next thing Maggie knew, the world around her became black and murky. The ocean was in every direction, and was beginning to overtake her with a frightening chill.
Hands struck through the waves with a deadly determination. Maggie was pulled from the current’s clutches and returned to the boat, which was now full of stray vines of seaweed and a few unlucky fish. A face became clear as the moonlight finally shone through a crack in the storms, lighting up the woman’s familiar expression.
Hazel,Maggie wanted to shout.Hazel!
The witch pressed a finger to her lips as a baby cried, her face drawing nearer to Maggie. “Do not cry, my dear daughter,” Hazel cooed. The warmth of her damp hand cupping Maggie’s face filled her with a sorrow she did not understand. “I will let no harm befall you.”
The storm returned in a greater force, the moon’s closeness pulling and pushing the currents. Maggie was swaddled tightly within the boat, tucked in a way to keep her from falling out another time. Hazel’s arms reached for her to climb onboard,but the waves shoved her back, pulling a surprised shout out of her.
“Wait!” Hazel’s heartwrenching scream ripped through the air as the current fiercely stole the boat from her, the distance between her and the boat only growing. “My baby!”
The memory continued as darkness crept along the corners of Maggie’s vision. Hazel’s figure only grew further away until she wasn’t there at all, the waves growing too tall for her to see over them. Thunder crashed over head, followed by a sharp strike of lightning illuminating the distant horizon. Despite the ongoing storm, Maggie knew that she was no longer in harm's way. Perhaps Hazel’s firm words were enough to bless her to some faraway shores, to protect her even if it meant they would never be together. Even if it meant growing without knowing her, living until they could be reunited over forty years later.
The dimly lit ceiling of the treehouse came back to Maggie as she opened her eyes. At first she thought herself to be dampened by the ocean’s spray, but only her cheeks were wet from the constant stream of tears that flooded down her face. It was a feeling she had never known before – a horrid blend of despair and gratitude, shock and excitement. The world was crashing down around her while being rebuilt at the same time. Everything she thought she knew, everything she had spent years coming to terms with, was ripped apart with a simple potion.
Arms swaddled her, bringing her close to a warm and familiar chest. Peter pressed a kiss to her temple as he swiped his thumb beneath her eyes, catching the tears before they fell. “What is it, Maggie?” he asked. “What have you seen?”
“Everything,” she forced out between cries. “And nothing at all.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It was her all along,” Maggie croaked. “All along, right in front of me.”
Peter’s grip tightened around her.
“Hazel, Peter,” she finally managed to push out. “Hazel Broomlin is mymother.”
At first, the room was entirely silent, then filled with the sound of her quiet cries. Peter gathered her in his arms, pulling her onto his lap. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, soothing her in a way that made her feel safe enough to let the tears fall.
“I am here for you, Maggie,” Peter whispered into her hair. “You do not have to face this alone.”
And as the words hung in the air, Maggie suddenly believed that she would ever be alone ever again. Neverland brought her the family she had always been searching for, even if they came in shapes and sizes she was not expecting. The Lost Boys gave her more than anyone else ever did – shamelessly and honestly. Peter might’ve brought her to his island in the form of kidnapping, but with his heart of gold, there wasn’t an ounce of evil to it. In fact, his original crime gave Maggie everything. After all, it had brought her to her mother.
Maggie cried into Peter’s clothes, fisting his shirt and burying her face into the warm crook of his neck. Eventually, the tears were no longer touched with sadness. Even if she did not outrightly understand what any of the memory meant, even if she did not know if Hazel would evenwantto be her mother anymore, Maggie’s tears were that of a contentness she never knew.
17
The woods outside of Hazel’s small cabin rippled with anticipation. Even the wind felt the rising excitement in the air, whistling as it shot by the leaves and brushed through the fraying branches. Autumn was steadily approaching, and it brought a delicate chill to the gentle breeze. The colors turned burnt and fiery the further Maggie and Peter went into the woods, resembling the growing racing of Maggie’s heart.
Maggie didn’t dare waste any time in seeing Hazel after discovering her forgotten memory. She had only discovered it the night before, and perhaps anyone else would have taken more time to come to terms with something as startling as finding one’s long lost mother, but Maggie could hardly take another second of not knowing. She spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed, trying to understand what happened in her memory. There was nothing that Hazel could have done to stop the storm from happening, to stop the current from rising and forcing them to drift worlds apart.
But what if Hazel took the storm as more of a blessing than a curse? In one evening, she was rid of a daughter that would’ve grown to disappoint her. Perhaps Maggie’s life would have been different if she had remained alongside Hazel, but there wasone thing that would always remain. Maggie had no loved ones growing up. She had no one to turn to in the human lands. There wasn’t even a person she could consider to be a friend, unless Sunny was being included in the conversation. In fact, she would have to say that the stray feline was the only good thing to come out of her time in the human lands, and she'd only known him for a few years.
Perhaps the truth was in front of Maggie all along. No one wanted to be around her long enough to really love her. It was her who pushed people away, who made others decide to stay as far away from her as possible. She was a bad luck charm, a pain in someone’s side. Maybe Hazel got rid of her biggest burden that night, but needed some time to realize it. When the truth arrived on Hazel’s doorstep, she might turn away without batting an eye. She might beg Maggie to forget everything she saw.
“Why have you stopped?”
Maggie looked up. She hadn’t even realized she stopped in her tracks, only a few yards away from Hazel’s small home. Peter lingered up ahead, his expression full of concern. He stepped back toward her quickly, already reaching for her hands. They both dressed in thicker sweaters as the island grew chillier around Hazel’s cabin. The trees around them seemed to cave inwards, as if the leaves and branches and thousands of insects upon them wished to hear what it was that she had to say.
“How do we know that this is the right thing to do?” she asked.
Peter gave her a small smile. “You already know the answer to that question, Magpie.”
“But I don’t.”
“If you didn’t,” he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles, “then we wouldn’t have even left the treehouse this morning.” Peter pulled her arm to be curledaround his own, already guiding them back on the path to Hazel’s home. “What’s going on, Maggie? You seemed ready to get to her cabin a few hours ago.”
