The
Story Untold
I have instilled excitement and wonderment in the
hearts of thousands of children and despite what adults say, there is
a Neverland even when you become an adult. How do I know you ask,
because I've experienced it? My name is Wendy and I was changed by my
time with Peter Pan. I was only a child, really, when I fell in love
with Peter, well not totally in love but there was a part of my heart
that will always be for him. When I returned home with the Lost Boys
and my brother I felt as though I had left a part of myself in
Neverland. Unlike my brothers, who eventually forgot the magic, I
dreamt of Neverland every night. I would see Peter in his hideaway
battling a new villain, none staying long enough to be a menace but
all bringing great fun and amusement to Peter's life. He soon
gathered a new following of Lost Boys each as reckless and
adventurous as the ones I knew. There was a new hideout after the
fairies, in their effort to be mischievous, knocked over some candles
and caused some great commotion. But there was never ever another
Wendy, no girl who Peter showed the wonder of Neverland. It made me
so sad that I couldn't go back now that I was 17. I looked more and
more like my mother every day and I didn't think Peter would even
recognize me even if I found some fairy dust to fly back. I started
to feel more and more out of place, like I was living a double life,
being an adult during the day and a child in the world of Neverland
at night in my dreams. That all changed one night.
At a ball
thrown by one of my father's friends, the young son of one of my
father's friends, made a brief appearance. At the first glance I
thought I saw Peter Pan all grown up but soon the illusion died.
Chris's, the name of the young man, laughter wasn't the forced,
controlled laughter of an adult bit the full, pure love of a child,
one I had missed all these years. He soon left the ballroom and I was
upset that he had left without me even talking to him. I decided to
take a walk out into the garden and I started to cry, missing the
carefree times of childhood when I heard his voice behind me "Don't
cry, there must be something I can do to help, Wendy". Before I
voiced my confusion at him knowing my name, I saw him wink and he for
a moment he was Peter Pan and we were flying again.
In the
weeks to come, Chris became the suitor my parents were looking for
and the child I was looking for. He was a well-brought up gentleman
but there were times his smile and playfulness were unhindered by
adult worries. There were things he said about his childhood home
that were the words that Peter had spoken about Neverland. Soon, the
Peter in my dreams was less gloomy, even though I didn't realize he
had changed. In some way he was approving of my relationship. I
realized I had fallen in love when, for my birthday, he gave me a
necklace with a fairy charm that had an odd resemblance to stubborn
Tinkerbell. Eventually Chris and I were married and soon after, I
dreamt of Peter one last time. A new Wendy had arrived but this
wasn't the same Peter, he looked the same but it wasn't the Peter I
knew. It was a new boy which the new Wendy could love. I kept Peter
with me, in Chris. Once in a while I'll get a glimpse of Neverland,
in the twinkle of a fairy in the corner of my eye and the tick tock
of a clock that is like the day of Captain Hook's death but they soon
disappear and I don't feel so alone anymore as I did before. In a way
I am happy that Peter moved on, so that the is still hope for an
adult, somewhere, to still be a child at heart, long after the
childhood years are over.
