It can be disconcerting to meet a familiar person someplace unexpected. Jocelyn’s situation brings to mind the time I found my neighbor’s gardener digging behind the church. Of course, finding a gardener turning up earth is not out of the ordinary. However, it was past midnight and in a graveyard. He startled me so much that I dropped my shovel.

If Jocelyn had been holding a shovel, she would have dropped it as well. She rushed toward her friend, pulling him into a hug. As boys that age are wont to do, he squirmed out of her embrace and threw another berry at her. Perhaps because Jocelyn was showing such interest in someone other than Peter, the fairy ceased her attack and settled on a leaf to watch.

“Oh, Roger, I can’t believe it!” Jocelyn said. “Today was absolutely the worst day. I felt like giving up, but then I turned around and here you are. Edgar must have brought you back with him after he delivered my letter. Isn’t the Neverland wonderful? What adventures we will have together, just like you promised!”

Roger didn’t reply. Jocelyn felt a sinking in her stomach. Why was he just standing there staring at her? Certainly he hadn’t come all this way to tell her he was angry with her about being sent away from the school.

“Roger?” A world of questions hung on that single word. His reply left every one of them unanswered.

“I’m Dodge,” he said. “What’s your name?”

Behind her, the other lost boys started giggling. “Did you hear what she called him, Ace?”

“I heard her, what about you, Fredo?”

Jocelyn ignored them, peering into Roger’s brown eyes. They looked different somehow—vacant, and lacking the sparkle she was used to. “Don’t you know who I am? It’s me, Jocelyn.”

“That’s a nice name. I like it. Did Peter bring you here too?”

Ugh, him again. “Peter? That flying boy brought you? How did—”

Mention of Peter got the fairy’s attention. Jocelyn felt another sharp pinch, this one to her ear. The little devil rang out a series of alarm bells and wagged a tiny finger in Jocelyn’s face before flying back to her leaf.

Jocelyn rubbed at her sore earlobe, considering her phrasing. “I would like to know how you got here.”

“I told you: Peter brought me. I was running away from the workhouse—”

“Workhouse? What were you doing there?”

Workhouses are bleak establishments created to give the poor yet another reason to feel miserable. Picturing Roger in one of those awful places made Jocelyn’s heart ache. “Were those the ‘other arrangements’ Miss Eliza made for you?”

“I don’t know. I just remember that I had been there for a short time and I was leaving. Before that, I really can’t recall. A boy, Peter Pan, landed in front of me and asked if I wanted to have adventures. Who could refuse? Did he bring you too?”

“No, Pet—” Jocelyn noticed the fairy glaring and shaking her head. “Er, that person did not bring me here! I came on my own to hunt the Neverland crocodile. When I saw you, I thought—I hoped—you were here to help me.”

The other lost boys’ giggles turned into full-on laughs. “That girl says she’s going to fight the crocodile, Twin,” the chubby boy said.

Before either twin could answer, Jocelyn turned around and shoved the closest boy, the one in jackalope fur. He fell to the ground, tearing his hood on the brambles.

“I’ve had enough out of all of you. Get out of here before I lose my temper.”

The fairy made a laughing sort of tinkling sound and fell off her leaf. She got up with a red face and flew away, but not before she gave Jocelyn one last pinch. Jackalope Boy picked himself up and dusted his backside. “All right, all right, we’re going. You coming, Dodge?”

Roger frowned. “In a minute. I want to talk to this girl some more.”

The boys shook their heads at him but didn’t argue.

“Roger,” Jocelyn said, once they were out of sight, “don’t you remember anything from before you went to the workhouse?”

He squinted his eyes and tapped his head. “I remember…something about an explorer, with a funny name—Madge Allen, I think. He might have been a lost boy once.”

“That’s right, Magellan. But he wasn’t a lost boy. We read about him on the day before my birthday. Remember that night? We looked at the stars and you gave me a gift—well, actually more of a loan—but I’ve kept it with me ever since. Here, I’ll give it back to you now.” She reached for her pocket.

“Is it a kiss? Peter told us girls like to give kisses. I think I should like to have one.”

Jocelyn’s hand froze. Her face grew hot. “You want, er, a…”

In fairy tales, a kiss had the power to break an enchantment. Perhaps…

She looked again into her friend’s eyes. They showed nothing but mild curiosity. He held out a hand to receive her “kiss.” Roger had no idea what he was asking for. Jocelyn was struck with a desire to either punch him or sob.

Ignoring both impulses, she dug the little brass compass from her pocket and slapped it into his outstretched palm. “No, Roger, it was this.” Her voice softened. “Doesn’t it look familiar? It was your father’s.”

He held the compass close to his face and examined it. “My father’s…He was lost, wasn’t he? Was he a lost boy?”

Jocelyn felt tears welling up behind her eyes. Why couldn’t he remember anything? “No, he wasn’t a lost boy. He was lost at sea. Can you remember him?”

For the first time, the girl wondered what had happened to Roger’s father. With dawning dismay, she considered the possibility that pirates, perhaps even her own father, might have had something to do with his death. The weight of that realization added to the guilt Jocelyn already carried over Roger’s dismissal.

“Lost at sea…” Roger stared out at the ocean as if he might be able to find his father there. Jocelyn’s eyes followed his gaze. Mr. Smee was returning in the spare-spare dinghy.

“Listen, Roger,” she said, “you can come with me, back to my ship. I’ll help you remember.” He didn’t look at her, but gripped the compass hard in his fist.

“A pirate is in the harbor!” shouted one of the boys. “Come on, Dodge, we’ve got to tell Peter!” Without a word, Roger turned away.

“Roger!” Jocelyn called to him.

He turned back, giving her his jolliest grin. “Good luck with the crocodile, girl,” he called, and, pocketing the compass, ran after the other boys. Jocelyn watched, brokenhearted, as her friend disappeared into the trees.

Roger truly was a lost boy. Jocelyn had been the one to lose him.