Through an Innocent's Eyes
Disclaimer: I do not own James and the Giant Peach, but I do own some of the names I give to the minor characters.
Ch.1 The Beginning of the End
The ocean water was clam and smooth, like glass. The sun shone brightly out of a brilliantly blue sky. A soft breeze sprang up and blew small mounds of yellow sand this way and that. The day did not reflect anyone's mood.
A few feet away from the ocean was a small neat cottage, painted white with a red roof. The front porch was adorned with small flower pots, their contents bursting with life that would not last much longer. On a small cushioned chair sat a very small boy, staring out at the water as though searching for something. Or some one.
The boy couldn't have been older than six or seven. He had light brown hair, sincere brown eyes, and was not very tall. He was clad in a yellow shirt, a blue vest, and brown shorts. There was something about him that said he was a sweet child, a child any parent would be proud to call a son. Unfortunately, thanks to the event of the previous day, the little boy would never hear his parents paying him such a complement again.
The boy, who was called James, turned his gaze away from the water and towards his front door, which was painted dark green. From inside, he could hear the official sounding voices discussing something about closure and taxes. Being only six years old, James had no idea what they meant. He did, however, know that they were also talking about what to do with him. The little boy closed his eyes and yesterday's happenings ran through his head.
The sky growing dark, clouds moving in quickly. The sea beginning to churn and bubble furiously. A group of American teenagers, who had been partying on the beach, pausing and looking up at the sky, eyes wide. His parents, looking worried, telling him to go inside and wait for them. James did, but looked back at them first. His father gave him a lopsided grin.
"Go on, son. Your mother and I will be along shortly. I'll just help her bring in some of her plants and we'll be right in. His mother paused and smiled lovingly at him.
"Don't worry, James. Like your father said, we'll be right there. Everything will be okay, dear, you'll see."
James smiled back at his parents, then went inside and sat at the table. Outside, thunder crashed and waves pounded. Lightning flashed in the skies, causing the lamps to flicker and send strange shapes across the walls. At one point, James was sure he saw the shape of a rhino on the far wall. And still, his mother and father had not come back in.
They had not come back in.
Outside, the storm, or whatever it was, was calming down, although the sky remained dark. Slowly, James got up and pushed open the front door. Outside, a large group of people were gathered near the shore, muttering and whispering. Suddenly very scared, James approached the crowd. No one noticed as he merged with the crowd, although he recognized the faces of his friends' parents. He did not, however, see his parents. He had almost reached the front of the group when a hand on his shoulder halted him. James looked up to see one of the American teenagers, a girl in her late teens. Her long blond hair was tousled, as though by the wind and her blue eyes looked like they had seen something awful. She was wearing a stranger kind of bathing suit that left her arms and a good portion of her stomach and back bare. However, she seemed like a gentle person from the way she looked at him.
"You don't want to see that. Really, you don't," she had said. Her friends, another girl and two boys, heard her and nodded. James's brown eyes went wide.
"B-B-But my mother… and my father…" The girl looked up at her friends and they all looked away. She turned back to him and gave him a pained half-smile.
"C'mon, I'll take you back home. Trust me, you don't want to see that." She nodded back to whatever the people were grouped around. Obediently, James turned and followed the American group. But he chanced one last look over his shoulder. In a gap between the peoples' legs, he could see what he knew was his father's hat.
It was covered in blood.
That had been yesterday, the worst day of his life. The day he, James Henry trotter, had become an orphan. And while last night, there had plenty of grief-stricken people in his house, no one offered to take him in, even for the night. Oh, his friends' mothers had hugged him and cried and said they were sorry, but they left soon afterward. And then James was alone. The only other person left in the cottage with him was a small, fat, bald man in a suit who had announced himself as "in charge of his parents' affairs." He had not paid attention to James at all, his only words to the child were telling him to go to bed and be quiet. James had immediately complied and ended up crying himself to sleep. No one had come to comfort him.
The front door suddenly slammed shut. James looked up, startled. The man in charge of his parents' affairs had come back outside. He took not the slightest notice of James, merely reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a package of cigarettes and a match. The harsh smell of cigarette smoke made James's nose burn. He shrank back against the cushions and the man turned and stared at James, as though seeing him for the first time. His nostrils curled, as though disgusted.
"Go pack," he said suddenly.
"Pack?" James asked, confused.
"Yes, boy, pack!" the man snapped, as though annoyed with James. "You're going to live with your aunts and I want to get you off my hands by dark, so hurry up! And don't bring every little thing you ever owned; take only what you need." With that, the man turned away and resumed his smoking. James slowly stood up and walked towards the door, but the man took no other notice of him, so James entered his house or the last time.