"Holy shit!" Eddie blurted, a stricken look crossing his face, "I mean, I'm sorry. That's... holy shit."

He thought of all the warnings his mother had given him about kidnappers and murderers and pedophiles, and more and more often lately, he'd been convinced she was just full of shit, but maybe she was right. At least some of the time, there were people out there who wanted to steal you away and hurt you.

And make you wear deerskin pants.

Then something in his head clicked. An island, a boy named Peter. Holy shit.