Peter didn't take girls to Neverland often. They were fickle and prissy and didn't like to play the same games that he and the boys did. But then there was Wendy. Wendy who told stories and took care of them. Wendy who made them feel special. Wendy who still didn't like to play the games, but who Peter cared for immensely. She was the only mother figure he had ever known; she was the only one of his friends that he didn't have to be brave for, but she was brave for him instead. He missed her and her wisdom.
When he could bear Wendy's absence no longer is when he found Charlotte. Charlotte was a bright and adventurous little girl. He would watch her in her nursery play-acting when her parents had gone to sleep. Like Wendy, Charlotte also told stories, but she told them to herself instead of to younger brothers. Peter thought it made her stories more...creative. She enacted stories of elves and archers, knights and princesses, and of exotic places like Morocco and Arabia.
"The Princess rubbed the lamp, like she was polishing a fine plate," the little girl recited. She rubbed the silver gravy boat that Peter somehow knew she wasn't supposed to have. He smiled at her mischievousness. Charlotte jumped back after a few seconds and stared up at an imaginary genie. Peter furrowed his brow. Charlotte stood and placed herself in the spot where she had stared, removing her violet headscarf and headband.
"I am the genie of the lamp!" she boomed as quietly as she could, "For freeing me, you shall have three wishes!"
Peter covered his mouth to stifle a giggle. Oh, she was just as entertaining as Wendy. Charlotte replaced her headscarf and head band and resumed her position on the floor. She looked up at the empty space with large, wondering eyes.
"I wish to be the greatest warrior in my father's army," she breathed. This time, she didn't get up or remove her costume, but her postured changed and Peter could tell she was the genie again.
"You are but a woman!" she proclaimed in a deep voice, and then she relaxed again.
"I know," she replied to herself, "That is why I want to be the greatest of his warriors, to show him how brave and fearsome I can be. He will be proud." Peter continued to listen intently. What else would the princess wish for?
"Then it is done!" she said in her genie voice. Charlotte resumed her role as the princess. "I also wish to go on many great adventures in far off countries!"
"It is done!" the imaginary genie granted.
"And for the greatest adventure of all," replied the princess. Peter inched closer to her window, dying to know what the princess's final wish would be. He did love a good adventure, after all.
"I wish to fall in love," she sighed.
"What?" Peter exclaimed, and he fell off the ledge of her house.
Charlotte whipped her head to the window and quickly crawled over to it. When she peered over the sill, there she saw Peter gliding his way back onto the ledge. Her eyes widened and Peter responded with a large grin.
"Hi," he said, with a little wave and floated in front of her window.
"You're flying," she said in surprise.
"I am," he responded still grinning.
"Why are you flying outside of my window?" she asked, then shook her head, "No, how are you flying. Tell me that first."
Peter laughed and sailed into through her window. "I was listening to your story. I like your stories."
"I asked you to tell me how first and then why!" she pouted.
"Do you really want those things?" Peter asked.
Charlotte looked at him warily, "What things?"
"The wishes," he continued as he floated around her room and poked at her toys and trinkets. He picked up a little statue of a strange looking elephant and shook it.
"Be careful with that!" Charlotte whined as she raced over to him, "Father brought that back from India, special, for me."
Peter looked at her and then at the statue before gently replacing it. "What's India?" he asked.
Charlotte nodded for him to follow her to another wall where there was a large map of the world. She pointed to India. "There," she said, "That's India. Father was there for a whole month last year."
Peter studied the map. He had seen one before, but it didn't mean much to him. He could tell that India was very far away from England.
"So," he began as he floated down to the floor, "Did you mean them? The wishes?"
Charlotte crossed her arms, put a fist under her chin, and stared at the floor for a moment, in thought. "Yes," she finally responded, looking at Peter matter-of-factly. Peter grinned his wicked grin.
"I can make one of them come true," he said playfully. Charlotte took a step back. She was nine and he was clearly a bit older than she. She wasn't ready for that wish to come true yet!
"Which one?" she asked cautiously.
"To go on many adventures in far off countries!" he giggled as he began to float around her. Charlotte giggled too. "All we need is a little fairy dust," Peter continued. He floated to the window and gave a whistle.
"Fairy dust?" Charlotte asked suspiciously as the little ball of light flew into her room.
"This is Tinker Bell," Peter explained as the fairy perched herself on Charlotte's vanity. Charlotte walked over and frowned at her. Peter also frowned. This wasn't the reaction he was expecting.
"Most girls think Tink's real neat," he tried to explain.
Charlotte looked over at him haughtily, "Most girls haven't done their homework on fairies." Tinker Bell turned and eyed Charlotte suspiciously before fluttering over to Peter's shoulder and making a tinkling sound.
"Oh, she doesn't mean anything by that!" Peter said to the little ball of light. Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"Besides," Peter continued as he grabbed the little fairy's arm, "she's coming with us!" And with that, Peter doused Charlotte in fairy dust (much to the displeasure of both ladies). Charlotte sputtered and looked around the room.
"So now what?" she asked. Confused as to why she too wasn't floating.
"Think a happy thought!" Peter laughed as he zipped around the room, still dragging Tinker Bell by the arm.
Charlotte thought of her father and she began to float. She giggled uncontrollably and practiced floating around the room.
"That's it!" Peter cried as they flew in circles around the ceiling. "There's just one condition," he said as they perched themselves on the window sill. Charlotte nodded. "You have to promise to tell your stories every night!" Charlotte grinned and nodded again.
"Then let's go, Charlotte!" Peter bellowed, but she grabbed his arm before he leaped from the window.
"Charlie," she corrected, "Only my mother calls me Charlotte."
Peter nodded and together they flew off into the night.
Charlie fit in well with the Lost Boys. She told her stories and had the boys play her parts. They went on many grand adventures, and when she got home-sick, Peter took her home. She didn't stay home for very long though. Peter came back for her often, craving her stories and her company. And for three years, Charlie happily went with him. For three years, Charlie would disappear for days at a time. Her mother and friends worried. Clever Charlie always had good excuse for them though. But Charlie still aged, and her thoughts began to change.
"How old were you when you stopped growing?" she asked Peter as they walked through the forest. They were covered in war paint and mud from a mock fight with the Indians. The Indians had won this time, but they had all partaken in the massive celebration like they always did.
Peter shrugged, "I don't know. Ten? Eleven? Twelve?"
"Had you started to change yet?" Charlie asked.
"Change how?" he asked in return as he kicked a stick. This wasn't their usual train of thought. He wasn't sure that he liked it.
"Had you started to become a man yet?" Charlie asked bluntly. She'd never been a shy girl, and spending so much time in Neverland had made her even bolder.
Peter stopped in his tracks and eyed her like she was a strange bird. "Yea," he finally said, "That's why I ran away. Ran here."
Charlie nodded her head, her braids and Indian bobbing along in time. "Then you were probably twelve," she stated.
"How do you figure that?" Peter asked. He was realizing that he was asking her a lot more questions as she got older and that she often had very detailed answers for him. He didn't like that either. She was beginning to look smarter than him to the other Lost Boys.
"That's when your body starts changing to look like a grown-up," she explained.
"You're twelve," Peter mused, "Have you started changing?"
Charlie looked down at herself, "Not yet. Not on the outside."
"On the outside? You mean grown ups change on the inside too?" he asked incredulously.
"Oh yes!" Charlie exclaimed and flashed him her bright eyed smile, the one she smiled when a topic fascinated her. "That's the most important part of growing up: the changes in here." Charlie pointed to her head with both hands.
Peter shook his head and laughed. "Why would anyone ever want to grow up then!"
Charlie frowned at him, but listened as he went on.
"Changing on the outside, changing on the inside! You're not even the same person after the whole thing's said and done!" he chortled.
"It doesn't sound so bad," Charlie argued meekly, "Only grown ups can fall in love."
Peter rolled his eyes, "Yuck! Who wants that?"
Charlie grabbed Peter by the shoulder so he would look at her. "I do," she said firmly.
"What?" Peter looked at her in horror, "You don't mean that." He shook his head and resumed his path.
Charlie jogged to catch up to him. "I'm not going to do this forever," she confessed, "I'm going to change and I'm going to grow up and I won't need Neverland anymore."
Peter glared at her, his mouth a firm line and his eyes alight with anger, "Why? Because you're going to fall in love?"
Charlie smiled at him, "It's the greatest adventure there is."
Peter scoffed at her, "I highly doubt that."
They stood silently in the forest for what seemed an eternity before Peter finally spoke.
"It doesn't matter," he said angrily. glaring at Charlie. Her eyes widened in both fear and confusion, waiting for him to explain.
"You can't grow up if you never go back," Peter smiled and insincere smile.
"Peter, no," she argued, "I can't stay here. My parents..."
"They'll have another child," he replied coolly.
Charlie's eyes filled with tears, "You don't understand, they can't..."
"Then they'll forget about you and go on with their lives and get old," he snapped.
Tears began to pour down Charlie's face. Not an hour ago, Peter had been her best friend, and now he was being so cruel. "Peter, I have to go home..."
"No!" he shouted as he leaped into the air, floating high above her, "You're staying here!"
"Peter!" Charlie begged, but he flew through the tree top anyway.