There is only one boy who will never grow up. Never.
But she did. Yes, Wendy did grow up. But—as she had promised, she never forgot Peter.
"I always believe in you, Peter." I told, as I looked out the bedroom window. I was married now. I had a daughter, Jane and a loving husband. I told my children stories of Peter and my adventures in Neverland. They believed.
Never—seems an awfully long time. I thought.
I came upstairs to check on Jane. "Are you ill, my precious darling?" I asked, as she was crying.
"I don't want to grow old, mummy!" Jane sobbed. I took her into my arms and rocked her gently back and forth. "I want to stay a little girl forever!"
"Have I told you of the boy who never grew up?" I asked. She wiped her tears and smiled as soon as I mentioned Peter Pan.
"Tell me the time Peter Pan cut off Captain Hook's hand!" she exclaimed.
And so I did. As I spoke the words of the adventure, she played the part of the wondrous Peter Pan and his heroic triumph. "TAKE THAT YOU OLD BILGE RAT!" she cried, slicing the air with her wooden sword.
"You will never have me this time, Pan!" I cried (as Captain Hook). "I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"
"Then! I threw Hook's hand down the crocodile's throat! I salvaged Neverland and became the world's wonderful hero!" Jane cried, jumping on the beds. "HOOK swam far out to sea, fearing the dreaded tick-tocking of the clock that I threw into the beasts' throat as well! Hi-YA!"
I laughed as Jane threw a pretend clock into the dark pit of the crocodile's throat. "Bravo!" I exclaimed. "Bravo!"
"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, but! The hour is late and I must be off to Neverland!" Jane said her voice low. "I shall be back!"
She hid behind the bed coverings.
John came through the door. It had been so long since I had seen my own brothers. "UNCLE JOHN!" Jane cried, running up to embrace him. He smiled and lifted her into the air. "I'm flying!"
"Yes, you are, Jane!" he responded as he put her down. She ran back over to me. "Now! We have more guests Mother! I get to put on a live-action show!"
"But, who is Captain Hook?!" Michael cried, running in through the door with a hook on his hand. "Ah-ha, you scurvy dog! You are mine!"
Jane jumped onto the bed with the sword in her hand. "Ready or not, Hook!" she snarled—but of course, for those who knew Peter Pan understood it was only an act.
"Get down from there boy! Fly away like a coward!" Michael played along.
"Me?! A coward?! You old bilge rat!"
"Avast, you heartless fiend of mine!"
They were sword fighting in the room as John and I sat to watch the show that Jane had prepared for us.
Jane had stuck her sword into Michael. "Long live PETER PAN!"
"Old. Alone. D-d-done for!" Michael mimicked, falling on the floor, pretending to bleed. John and I were clapping so much.
"BRAVO! What an excellent story!" John said, bowing low.
"Thank you, sir!" Jane replied.
She bowed three times. "Alright, young lady, now you must go to sleep." I told. She frowned. "Don't worry dear; he'll surely come after this terrific show."
"Good night, Mother." Jane yawned.
"Sleep away to Neverland, my darling." I whispered shutting the door gently behind me. John and Michael were visiting for the Christmas holiday and were going to stay for a while.
"She is just like you, Wendy." John spoke, as I poured all of us a cup of tea. We sat in the kitchen. Nana lies on the floor. She was an old dog now, but still wonderful to the family.
"She wishes every night so dearly to see him, John. I don't know if he'll ever come back."
"He will, Wendy. He will—because she believes in him." John told, reassuringly. I smiled.
I will NEVER forget you, Peter. Not ever. I thought. You will always be with us.
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