I wrote this story in one shot. It's the saddest story I ever wrote. No idea where it came from, perhaps a reflection of which direction the youth our time is heading towards nowadays...
The characters are inspired in a mix of Fox Kids show "Peter Pan and the Pirates", the Disney movies and "Hook".
The * * * sign gives the time jump of several years.
Disclamer: I do not own Peter Pan...
Peter yelled and stumped angrily his feet on the ground in a vain attempt to keep his tears back. The woman with the tenderest voice he ever heard spoke to him mellow words, trying to calm down the bewildered child.
"You promised!"
"I'm not that different, Peter Pan. I'm just bigger."
These words seemed to have effect on him and Peter calmed down from his tantrum. He stared into the eyes of the young woman with suspicion. She sighed softly and couldn't help feeling sorry for the boy. It was the first time she actually saw tears in his eyes.
"Are you sure?" He warily asked. Wendy nodded. "Why did you grow up?"
"Everybody grows up one day."
"Not me." The child's voice was a mere whisper. Wendy sensed it bore the hint of something new, something somewhat darker. "So I guess you cannot come for spring-cleaning." Wendy shook her head a bit and Peter sighed sadly. He sat down on the chair and Wendy sat opposite him.
"But you can come and visit me anytime you want. I'll tell you wonderful stories, just like I used to do when we lived in the underground tree." Wendy smiled sweetly when the boy's eyes glimmered of excitement.
"You'll tell me stories about Pirates and Indians?" He asked excited. She nodded. "Oh, tell them now, Wendy! Please, tell them now!"
Wendy laughed a bit softly, got up and picked up a blanked. She placed it around the boy's small shoulders and started retelling the great adventures of Peter Pan and Captain Hook. The boy laughed and clapped of joy and in the end of the tale he sighed of tiredness and fell asleep in Wendy's arms.
(some hours later)
Peter awoke with the bright sun light hitting his eyes. He didn't recognize his surroundings but recognized the young woman sitting asleep on a rocking chair and a blanked on her knees. He carefully approached her and looked at her face really closely. He was studying her complexions, trying to difference what had changed and what had not. Wendy, sensing him, opened her eyes in a gasp. She stared a moment frozen and wondered why the boy's face was so close of hers.
"Did the boys grow up too, Wendy?" He neutrally asked, not backing up an inch, still studying her features. Wendy, feeling this closeness rather unusual, shifted and got up softly.
"Yes, they are all men now."
"They forgot me, didn't they?" Wendy stared shocked at him. His question was put out more as a statement, as an undeniable fact, with no kind of emotion attached to it. She nodded remorsefully. "Boys always forget me. I wonder why." Peter merely say, no hurt or anger in his voice, just pure wonder.
"I will never forget you." Wendy said and she crouched, so she could level herself to the boy. She caressed his cheek and he smiled faintly.
"I know." He whispered.
One cold night, when the air was icy and announcing snow, Wendy woke up with a gentle tapping in the window. She turned to her side and looked at the source of the sound and listened expectantly. Then she heard it again, the gentle knock. She looked down at her husband asleep and gently got out of her bed. She stepped silently to the window in the bedroom next to hers. The tapping insisted. She gasped when she recognized the figure outside and hastily opened the window.
"Oh come in child! You must be freezing!" she quickly got a warm blacked and put it around the trembling child, and held his small body against hers, to keep the cold away. When the boy finally stopped shaking, she sat him down.
"What happened to your belly?" Was the first thing he asked. Wendy rested her hand on her growing belly and smiled sweetly.
"A baby is growing in there." He gently explained. Peter's eyes grew wide and he looked at Wendy with great amazement. He then stared at the round belly and back at the woman, hesitant, like if he was waiting for some permission. She smiled and he stretched his arm to feel the big lump under her skin.
"How did it get there?" He asked amused. Wendy blushed and wasn't really looking forward in informing her childhood friend how babies were made.
"Well Peter, I'm married now. My husband and I love each other very much. And because we love each so much, we wished really, really hard to have a baby. That's why it's growing inside of me."
"You're going to be a real mother!" Peter spoke with great awe. Wendy nodded happily. After letting the boy contemplate this miracle of life, she finally asked why he had come to visit her. She was taken aback to see the entire child's happiness fade away at the question, eyes become sad, face become pale. He stared at the ground miserably.
"Captain Hook - He...He died." Wendy's heart sunk and she was shocked to hear those words. Her first thought was the hope Peter hadn't done it.
"How?" She asked, scared to hear the answer, but nevertheless, needing to hear it. She put both hands of the boy's shoulders. He was trembling; she knew this time it wasn't from cold.
"He became really old." He sniffed. "The magic never had effect on him, so he kept getting older with the passing of time. And then he got really sick." Wendy hugged the boy gently, glad that the pirate had died of natural causes. She let the boy weep on her shoulder for the loss of his greatest enemy and perhaps, his greatest friend ever. "I went there, this morning." Peter continued with a shaken voice. "I wanted to pest the pirates, play a trick on them, but they were all so mournful. I went into Hook's room and there he lay, breathing hard and slow. He was happy to see me. We talked about our adventures together and he laughed. He said something about living his life at full." The boy sniffed before breaking down completely. "I stayed there with him until he fell asleep and stopped breathing."
Wendy hugged the child and sat him on her lap. She sang him a lullaby and rocked him until he finally calmed down.
"I miss him. Just like I miss you and the Lost Boys. But I know, when I'll get back to Neverland, I'll forget you all again. Its how the magic works. It makes me forget everything, even the things I don't want to forget!"
Wendy was apprehensive about Peter's words and revelation. She wished she could to help the child, but all she could do is let the boy fly away back to his fantasy land and be happy again, once he forgot the pains he had lived today.
Wendy lay warm in her bed. She could feel tiredness embrace her body. Many years had passed by since Peter Pan had visited her the last time, with the sad news about Captain Hook's death. Wendy had lived a long happy life. She had a wonderful daughter and beautiful grandchildren. She grew old besides her husband, her faithful companion who had departed already some years. She smiled as she knew that her moment was close, the last chapter of her life was almost finished. She had lived a life with no regrets for what she did, her only regrets were for those things she never did.
Wendy felt a soft breeze come from her right side and looked a bit confused at the open window. She would have sworn that nurse Lewis had closed the window. She was too weak to get up and shut it, so she stretched her hand to find the switch for assistance call. But before she did it, she froze and was for moment frightened when she saw a small shadow standing beside her.
"Wendy?"
"Oh, my young lad, you came to visit me one last time?" The old woman asked in a weak voice, but gratitude and happiness were present in it. Peter pushed a chair, sat next to Wendy and held her hand with a soft smile on his lips.
"I woke up this morning and suddenly I remembered you. I had hoped you could come for spring-cleaning, but I guess that's out of question." He explained. Wendy laughed a bit, her voice rough and cracked by the years.
"I'm an old woman now, Peter. Old and spend and stuck to this bed."
"You don't look that different to me. You are still very pretty." Wendy laughed heartily at the compliment. She laughed quite a bit. She hadn't laughed already for a while.
"Oh my, that's quite a compliment, Peter Pan."
"I never should have let you go home. You would never have become old." He said as he combed Wendy's white hair with his small fingers. "Hook died, the Lost Boys died, and now you'll go soon too. Why do people have to grow old and die, Wendy?" The old woman stared a bit amazed at the child's curiosity. There was no emotion attached to his voice, just pure questioning.
"That's the circle of life. People are born, grow up, get married, have children, grandchildren and when they are old and had a complete life, they die."
"Not in Neverland." Peter stated. "Oh Wendy, wouldn't it be wonderful if the whole world would be like Neverland? Time wouldn't exist; people didn't have to grow up, would always be happy, playing around and living wonderful adventures! All the pains and sorrows of the world would be forgotten."
"Sounds like heaven to me." Wendy smiled. Peter smiled back and caressed the wrinkled hand that rested on his own.
"Wendy, sometimes I wonder. I wonder what will happen when children stop believing in Neverland. I wonder what will happen to me then." The old woman looked terrified at the boy. Never, in her long life, had she expected to hear such a grave and worrisome question come from the most carefree person she ever met. She took her hand to the boy's face. His skin was so soft and warm like her grandchildren's.
"Oh Peter, you silly boy. Don't think about it. That will never happen. Children will never stop believing in Neverland." She said smilingly, but her smile vanished quickly as the boy didn't smile back. Instead he looked so serious at her that it looked more like he was sorry for her.
"It will happen, Wendy. It's already happening."
Wendy shook her head too shocked to believe what her ears were hearing. She felt her hearth sting. It could not be true. Peter could not be telling her this. He was the always happy and carefree child, innocent and fearless of anything in this world. He could not be telling her this. He could not be talking about the end. She felt his fingers wipe the tears from her face and he kissed her on the cheek.
"I love you, Wendy Darling. I always did."
At this he lied next to the old woman and put his arms around her waist. Wendy cried silently both from happiness and sadness. She was sad because she was about to leave this beautiful world, but was happy that Peter Pan had come to stay with her in her last dying moments.
In that night, Wendy Darling died peacefully in her sleep at the age of 83. Nurse Lewis was surprised to find the next morning a garland of white daisies on the old woman's head.
"And then Peter Pan came! He took his knife out and defied the horrifying Captain Hook. They duelled a fierce battle! The Pirate was tall and strong and mean. He looked very angry, very murderous. But Peter Pan wasn't scared! He feared nothing, especially Captain Codfish!" Little children giggled as the lady told her exciting storing, gesturing het arms around and mimicking the two opponents, making the whole tale even more vivid. "Peter Pan jumped and flew over Captain Hook and knocked his pirate hat down. He laughed and spun in the air a few times until he reached the lost boys and cut the ropes that were imprisoning them. Billy Jukes was already pointing the Long Tom at them, but Peter and the boys flew high and dodged just in time from the canon bullet. And they all flew back laughing and singing merrily. The end!" The lady bowed while the little children clapped of joy.
"Mrs. Taylor, does Peter Pan really exist?" Little Mary Ann asked. Mrs Taylor was about to answer when Roger, a 9 years old boy, replied.
"Of course not! Nobody can stay young forever and certainly cannot fly! And there is no such thing as fairies." He arrogantly spoke. Mrs Taylor put her hands on her mouth knowing what the boy's words had just done.
"You just killed a fairy!" Tim angrily accused and threw his stuffed toy at the older kid.
"Hahahahaha! Give me a break!"
"Roger!" Mrs. Taylor reprehended. "You bad boy! Why would you say something so horrible?"
"Oh, come on Mrs. Taylor! You don't really believe in all that nonsense?"
"Yes Roger. I do believe. I've been there when I was 8 years old!" The woman spoke determinately, her hands on her sides. "Now go brush your teeth and go straight to bed!" Roger got up really upset and pulled his tongue out behind the woman's back. "And don't you dare go gaming with your Playstation again. If I find you with that thing on, I swear, I'll hide it for two weeks long!" The boy mumbled something but obeyed the woman. "And you, my little pixies, are all going to sleep now."
"But Mrs. Taylor! What if Roger is right?" Mary Ann asked. "What if it is all a made up story?"
"Yeah, he never comes to visit us!" Caroline pointed out.
"It's all a lie, like Father Christmas! He's not real too!" Ginny accused.
"And in the other day I saw in the Telly a man telling Jesus didn't exist." Richard spoke. Mrs. Taylor put her hands on her head. The children were now all having a discussion.
What kind of stuff do these kids see and hear nowadays?
"Children, please children. Listen. Peter Pan and Neverland - You have to believe with your hearths that it exists. Because, the magic only works when you truly believe in it. And if you do so, then Peter Pan will come and take you there to live a wonderful adventure." The woman told enthusiastically. But her smile faded almost instantly. All these little children were staring at her with suspicion. Some looked at her accusingly, like if she was guilty of an atrocious crime. Others gave her looks of pity, like if she was mad and delusional. Mrs. Taylor sighed miserably. These where little children from ages between 5 and 7. It troubled her that they were questioning her about this subject in such a young age. "You know that moment, when you are about to fall asleep? That's the moment you actually can see Neverland. Now, go to your beds, it's time to sleep." The children didn't discuss anymore. Mrs. Taylor put each child in bed, tugged them tight and gave them all a goodnight kiss.
She switched off the light and peeked on the other common room to see if Roger and the other boys were already sleeping. She smiled when she saw all was dark and silent. She made her round in the different rooms and after an hour, her shift was over.
"Goodnight Jeffrey." She said to the security at the entrance.
"Goodnight Jane. Have a safe journey home."
Jane smiled and entered her car after looking at the building with the capital letters where it read London's Central Orphanage. She drove back home to her family. Her children were finishing High School and they too, had stopped believing in Peter Pan and Neverland for some years. Even her oldest daughter Moira, who had been in Neverland with her little brother and sister, forgot the fairy land. Their world now was school, fashion, celebrities, playstations, Ipods, Ipads, Facebook, Twitter, you name it. Jane was becoming each day more convinced that all the modern media and technologies were making children too aware of life and the world around them. She did her best in bringing Peter Pans' stories to the orphans, but it was becoming daily a more difficult task. There was even a girl that pointed her out the real name of the second star at the left. Science and technology offered an answer to everything. And so, children had an answer to everything and stopped believing in fairy tales.
It was a lovely autumn day. The sun shone bright on the yellow and red leaves, the air smelled fresh after the rain fall. Jane took the day to clean up the garden and when it became dark, she settled in and made herself a nice warm soup for supper. She had moved into a smaller house after her divorce 20 years ago, when all her children were grown up and had their own lives established. Everywhere were pictures of her children and of the orphanage's kids. Here and there were objects related to the many children she helped to give and find a home, some were even handmade. They were all gifts as gratitude for her kindness. After supper Jane sat down on her couch, with her cat on her lap and read a book. She almost jumped of fright when she heard a loud noise coming from the roof. The cat ran off the living room and Jane got up apprehensive. She grabbed the closest heavy thing she could find and slowly climbed the stairs to the first floor. She stopped midway as she heard the noise again. She reached the first floor and followed the sound that came from her bedroom. Her heart bounced even faster when she saw the window open wide. Then she saw a shadow in the room and quickly switched on the light.
"Don't move or I'll call the police!" She yelled but was silenced immediately and almost screamed of shock when she saw a boy in ragged clothes standing in the middle of her room. He was extremely pale, thin and seemed to be seeking his balance. "Oh my God! Peter!" She gasped and ran to the boy. She took him in her arms and laid him down on her bed. "Peter what happened?"
"Jane? Is that you?" He asked, his voice faint. The woman nodded. "You look older."
"I'm 68 Peter. I would be surprised if I didn't." She put her hand on Peter's face expecting to feel him burning up, but instead he was cold. "Peter, what happened?"
"I don't know. Places in Neverland are disappearing. And I can't find Tink. Nor the Indians or the mermaids." Jane looked shocked. Children didn't believe in Neverland anymore, so it was vanishing.
Jane took Peter Pan under her care. She gave him a warm bath, dressed him with an old pyjama from her son and gave him a warm meal. Peter looked a bit better afterwards, but he complained still for feeling weak, dizzy and his body hurt everywhere. Jane feared for the worse, so the next day she took the sick child to the hospital. She remained there for hours, taking the boy from one department to the next, putting him under all kinds of exams. In the end of the day, a doctor came to talk to her, while Peter was sleeping on a hospital bed.
"Mrs. Taylor." He began.
"Oh no, please, call me Jane."
"Jane. You claim to have found this boy yesterday, correct?"
"Yes. He came stumbling to my house."
"And you have no idea who his parents are and where he comes from?" Jane shook her head. The doctor sighed. "I normally don't give this kind of information to strangers, but considering this situation and the gravity of the boy's condition..."
"Gravity! Oh doctor, please tell me what's wrong with the boy." The doctor gave her the saddest look.
"I'm afraid this boy is dying. He has been diagnosed with an advanced form of marrow cancer. It's already spread over his body. I'm afraid it's too late for him. Any treatment will ineffective in his case. I'm sorry."
Jane could feel the tears run down her face. She heard the doctor saying she had to report the finding of the child to the police and asked if she needed help in finding him a place. She thanked the doctor for all his help and attention and told him she would be fine. And with that she took the boy in her arms and headed home.
Jane did a vain attempt in visiting the orphanage where she had worked years, to convince the children into believing in Neverland again, but it was futile. The older children simply would make the younger ones doubt and her efforts didn't pay off. Jane did the only thing she could think off doing and decided to take care of the boy until the end of his days.
Jane treated Peter Pan as any good mother would take care of her sick child. She bathe him, fed him, tugged him in bed, read him stories and tried to give all the possible comfort and love she could give to this boy. The one thing Jane never did, was to tell him about his condition. She thought it was too horrible to tell the child he was going to die soon. Two weeks passed by and Jane witnessed the boy weakening day by day. The pain in his body afflicted him so badly that sometimes he would cry, begging her to make it stop. And sometimes she wondered if it was not the best if she just ended his life. But when she saw him, so small and helpless, lying in her bed, sleeping so peacefully, her hearth banged. She couldn't watch the boy suffering, but she couldn't put an end to it either.
"Jane." Peter's faint voice called her in the room.
"What is it Peter?"
"Neverland is dying. So I'm dying too." Peter brought it as a fact, no hint of fear present in his voice. "Children don't believe in Neverland anymore. They changed. Why?"
"I don't know." Jane whispered.
"Yes, you do. You just don't want to say it. Why?" Jane looked at him a while in thought and caressed his soft hair.
"Children grow up quicker nowadays. They get to see everything good and bad in the world from a very young age. And so they find it difficult to believe something that they cannot find proof in. Do you understand?" The boy nodded and looked sad. He then contorted from the pain, something that was becoming more regular. He shut his eyes, tears streaming down his face and then relaxed when the pain ceased.
"I remember everything now." He said. Jane frowned wondering what he meant. "I remember every child I took to Neverland. Their name, their faces. I remember all the adventures we had together. I remember them growing up. Boys always forgot me first, most girls remembered me. But the best memories I have, Jane, the best times I had, were with Wendy and the boys. The days we spend together when we lived in the underground house." Another wave of pain came and Peter twisted and moaned hurtfully. Jane tried to comfort him by massaging his body. Once the pain went away Peter continued. "Those were the best days."
"Shhh. You should rest." Jane whispered worriedly, but Peter ignored. There was a strange glow in his eyes.
"There is no more magic. It was the magic that made me forget everything! But now there is no more magic and I remember it all! Wendy, John, Michael, the Lost Boys! I remember the day Wendy lost her laughter and when she almost merged with the crocodile...When the mermaids kidnapped her...When she went away...she grew up...grew old..." Jane was crying. Peter's eyes were blurry and unfocused as he spoke. She put her hand on his cheek and it felt cold, his breathing was becoming heavier. Peter gasped at another wave of pain, tears slipping out of his eyes.
"Wendy!" He cried out. He breathed a few hard gasps and then silenced. His face relaxed again.
There was no more pain. There was no more suffering. Peter ceased breathing, his heart stopped beating. Babies and little children all over the world started crying, parents not knowing why. The second star in the right became dim.
Jane cried over the body of the child. The eternal youth was gone. Neverland died. Peter Pan died. Because children didn't believe in fairies, in mermaids and that children can fly when they are happy. Children knew too much. They saw images of war, poverty, crimes, violence, sex and death every day. The news, the internet, the movies provided too much knowledge to children. They learned too soon about the cruelty of the world. Children grew up too soon. They stopped believing in Neverland.
Innocence was dead.
A/N
The jumps in time were written in purpose. In his few journeys outside Neverland, Peter Pan gets to learn more about life and death and reflects about it. You could say that he too, in some way, was growing up. He was confronted with the new changes in the world. And slowly became aware of his fate and of his magical world as consequences of these new changes.
I purposely omitted Tinkerbell in this story. I love the little fairy, but her presence would end up being distraction. I preferred to focus the subject of changes in Peter's interaction with Wendy and Jane.
Both Wendy and Jane played an important role. They are sort of "guardians" of Neverland, the women that keep telling Peter Pan's tales and making sure children won't stop believing in Neverland. Above all, they are symbols to two generations and the changes that society brought during their lifetimes.
Wendy lives the old times. Disney places her historically during the Second World War (Peter Pan: the Return to Neverland) as a young mother, so she lived her adulthood from the 40's till the 90's.
The post-War period is a time of relative innocence. Despite the horrors witnessed during the Great War, later on Vietnam and other conflicts in the globe, her world still lives with limited informative resources. There is no internet, no cell phones, the television is a recent invention and the State determines what is broadcasted. Most of the information came from the radio and newspapers, its general public were adults (children read mostly children's books and comics). Science and technology are quickly emerging and playing a greater role in society, but its impact on people's (and children's) ways of thinking is limited.
Wendy lives the standard life style that our grandparents lived. She marries in her early 20's, haves her first child before she's 30. A time when divorce was the last resource and the reason that most couples remained together until death actually departed them. The life rhythm was slower, children played safety outside, on the streets and used mostly their fantasy and imagination for their games. They were actually innocent children until they hit puberty. (note the concept of "teenager" only emerges in the end of the 50's and in the 60's. Until then they were or big children or young adults).
Jane lives the modern times. She grows up in the time of Elvis Presley and is the first generation to be labelled as teenager. She accompanies the development of major changes in the word of politics (Vietnam, Kennedy, the Cold War, the Fall of the Wall in Berlin); and of society (hippies have a great impact in the western world's emancipation of women, drugs, spirituality through music, movies, literature).
Jane lives the era of the rise of technology. The first landing on the moon. The first computer. The first mobile. The first digital photo-camera. The birth of internet. And then the dizzying speed of the evolution in the digital world. DVD, Blue-Ray, 3-D, I-pad, I-Phone, E-Reader, Tablet, Social Media, Selfies, Trollies, Instagram. Instantaneous information. What happens in the other side of the world one minute ago is already world spread through internet.
Jane's children (our generation) grow up in this golden era of science, of knowledge, information and awareness. Worldly knowledge has never been this easily accessible. But it can also be too much. How shocked are we today if we see hungry children Africa, crying from pain in their skin and bones? How shocked are when we see wounded people shown in the news, victims of another dubious terrorist group? Bandaged, under blood, bruised and sometimes missing a limb. How shocked are we when dead bodies are shown in the news? Do we still feel compassion for these people? Of course we do. But does it impact us like it should? No. Because the moment a commercial starts, we already forgot about those horrific images. Why? We have seen them too many times. We are not becoming cold-hearted. We are being taught to consider these images as the normality. (I'm speaking in general terms).
The Media tells us we have the right to know what's going in the world. Liberty of expression. But I don't remember asking to see a corpse lying under blood in Syria. We have been fed with this kind of images since children and it's getting worse.
So, what about this new generation of children? They end up becoming immune to these images. They are already used to see them. It has already become the normality for them. These images don't shock them anymore. No more than they should shock us. The news is filled with more details, more blood, more death. It has to, otherwise it will not shock us, right? It has become a sensation. Alas, the more we see these images, the more used to them we'll become. So where does this leads us to?
Anyway (before I ramble even more) and to conclude: Wendy lives a time of naivety due to limited information. Jane lives our parents' generation. The transition period, when many taboos have fallen, the right of speech and information expands through the Media and the arts. Jane divorces and lives an independent live like many do (something unthinkable in Wendy's generation). Finally, Moira (Jane's only mentioned daughter) lives our generation.
Peter Pan, makes a journey through the consciousness of changes in time and in life and society. Wendy and Jane are his temporal links to this journey. Together, they journey through the different questions that surround life and death.
Peter is the seeker. He questions about life and death and even points out some hard facts. Wendy is in denial. She's our human part that doesn't want accept the reality, even if we know it. She knows there will be an end to everything, but she doesn't want to accept it or confront it.
Jane is the one that accepts the reality and accepts that everything must have an end, as painful as it can be.
Questioning, denial and acceptance.
Uhm, this was quite a reflection. I'm feeling quite philosophical today.
Hope you liked the story (even if it was the saddest one you've read for a while) and my reflections.
Oh, one last thing.
Peter loves Wendy.
Always.