The Fall of Never(118)

“No,” she stammered.

“Oh.” He shifted positions in the tree, sending a wave of leaves fluttering to the ground. His swinging foot moved out of the way and Kelly noticed that something had been carved into the bark of the tree, just above her reach. They were initials, she saw: K.K. + S.S.

“Did you tell him about me?” Simon said, and she looked up at him.

“No.”

“Why not?”

She sidestepped the tree. “I have to go home,” she said.

“I don’t like being by myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not,” he told her. “You ignore me, just like your parents ignore you. You’re just as evil.”

His words hurt her. “That’s not true!”

“Let’s go to the house,” he said, “the gingerbread house.”

“I can’t,” she told him. “I have to get home.” The truth was, she’d been having a difficult time seeing the gingerbread house lately. It no longer existed for her.

“You’re supposed to be the Princess of Never,” he muttered, hiding his face behind a pall of leaves. “I’m supposed to be the Prince.”

“Some other time,” she said. “I have to go.”

Not looking back, her head down, she pushed on through the forest toward home. And although she didn’t want to think about Simon, Prince of Never, she could hear him yammering in her head: You’re just as evil as your parents, Kellerella. You left me. You left me.

Go away! she thought, and ran the rest of the way home.




Gabriel’s birthday was in the fall, and two days prior to it, Kelly slipped down into the forest to hang a newly made swing from the tallest tree she could find. She’d wanted to do something special for him and, having never had a close friend, she didn’t want to disappoint him and scare him off. Not that she thought Gabriel was like that. Would it be possible to ever scare him off? she wondered.

After much searching, she finally decided on a large oak that sat crookedly on the sloping valley floor. It would be difficult to climb it and tie it up there, she knew, but there were plenty of branches to grab and handhold, plenty of places for her to step around—

She heard someone behind her. Turning, she nearly tumbled down the hillside, but managed to grab onto a tree branch at the last second. Simultaneously, she felt a rumbling in her groin, felt the hot urgency of urine rush through her. Uttering a sharp cry, she dropped to the earth, knocking her head back against the tree.

Half-masked by foliage, Simon stood in the valley below, staring up at her. His eyes had mutated, were now a startling blue. He stood huddled like a hunchback, his slender form contorted and misshapen. For the first time, it occurred to her that her ignoring him had begun to twist his physical presence. The less she thought about him, the more deformed he became.

“Simon,” she heard herself whisper.

“You came back,” he called up to her, only his own voice did not rise above a whisper. Mostly, she was hearing him inside her head.

“You scared me. I didn’t hear you coming.”

“I’m quiet.” He moved along the valley floor, remaining concealed by the shrubs. “Never’s been quiet without you, too.”

“Sorry,” she said, “I’ve been busy.”

“Growing up,” he said.

She nodded slowly. “What’s the matter? What happened to you? You look funny.”

“Funny,” he snickered. He coughed and spat onto the ground. “I’ve been busy too.”

“Have you?”

“Want to see?” She could make out a grin. “I’ve been busy for you.”

“What is it?”

“Something I found. I’ll show you. Like old times, right?”

She swallowed a hard lump of spit. Absently, she found that her sudden urge to relieve herself had vanished as quick as it had come. It was Simon’s power over her, she knew. He possessed what she possessed. He had powers of his own.

“Come,” he said, and turned his back to her. He began ambling through the thicket, his gait hindered by a slight limp.

Setting the tree swing down at the foot of the giant oak, Kelly crab-walked her way down the hillside and jumped down into the valley. Upon hitting the ground, the world seemed to shift all around her, to take on the bright, plastic colors of the fairy tale world she herself had created. And for a moment she was no longer Kelly Kellow, but Kellerella, Princess of Never.

No, she thought, and shook the notion from head. That’s not me thinking that. It’s Simon, taking control of my mind. He wants me to think it.

Her legs pushed her forward through the forest. Ahead of her, Simon snaked along, his form flickering in and out of the foliage as if he were deliberately trying to elude her. After several minutes, she emptied out onto the cleared path and got a better glimpse of Simon. His skin had soured to a dull gray, the comb of his spine a series of crooked protrusions weaving down his back. Cobwebby strands of silver hair fanned out from choice places along his back, neck, scalp, arms, and legs; they undulated with each step he took.

He’s no longer perfect, she thought. Without me to regulate him, without me thinking about him, he can be and look like whatever he wants.

They reached the embankment to the gingerbread house and Simon turned to face her. His face looked small and flecked with minute scales. His lips were dry and cracked, laced with fine threads of blood vessels. A stench clung to him—foul and corrupt, radiating from him in moist waves. She recoiled at his sudden proximity, which made him crack a ghoulish grin.