2.
"John!" Wendy lunged forward, hauling him to his feet. The young boy blinked, his glasses askew on his face. "Don't you ever try that again!" she couldn't stop her heart from racing beneath her night gown. It hammered against her ribcage, as if threatening to burst through her bones. It had all seemed so real! Peter and the boys, everything! How was it possible that it had never happened?"
"Do you think we imagined it all?" John whispered glumly.
Wendy didn't answer right away; she chewed on her lower lip, thinking it through. And then, she shook her head. "No, that's impossible; we couldn't have possibly all had the same dream! That doesn't happen in real life!" the two boys stared at her, their eyes searching hers for truth. She stayed as confident as she could, pretending that she herself believed everything she was saying. In truth, Wendy was having second thoughts. Sure, they all knew about Never Land. But there really wasn't any proof to show what except that they think they saw.
"It did happen though, right Wendy?" Michael pleaded, tugging on her nightgown hem. "Tell me it happened."
"I remember everything." John said confidently, nodding to himself. "It must have occurred because...well...because I remember. The sword fights were real because these blisters on my fingers are probably from the sword handle! And the Indian Party happened because I have a sort of migraine from the loud music." Wendy wished she didn't have an explanation for those both, but she did.
"John, you sweat during your sleep; maybe that's where your blisters came from, after an exciting dream. And your migraine could also be explained from the rumpus you and Michael were creating last night, when father got mad and yelled at you. There really isn't any proof that it happened."
He narrowed his eyes. "You think we dreamt Never Land?"
"It is possible." She admitted.
Michael shook his head defiantly. "We can't all dream the same dream!"
"I'm too tired to argue. Let's go down stairs for breakfast."
Neither of their parents believed a word they said. "And then," Michael continued, ignoring their amused expressions. "John flew from the highest pole on the Pirate Ship and speared the Pirate with his sword!"
"I did not!" John corrected him. "I knocked his sword out of his hand and kicked him into the water!"
"Oh right, yes, my mistake. And then, Wendy was flying with Peter because she almost got pushed off the plank, but he saved her!" Michael looked to Wendy, who was silently nibbling on her dry toast without meeting anyone's eye. "Remember that, Wendy? Remember how you almost drowned but Peter swooped you out of the water?"
Her parents turned their amused stares to her. Wendy blushed, and shook her head slowly. "No, Michael. I've never jumped off a Pirate plank and been saved by a flying boy in green tights." She tried not to feel enormous guilt at the hurt look she was receiving from her brothers. "It sounds like they had some wild dreams."
Her parents laughed, and nodded. "Quite the dream." Mother agreed, sipping her tea.
"Don't you think it's odd, though, how we both had the same dream?" John pressed.
Father shrugged. "I'm sure it's likely; you are brothers. Too bad Wendy didn't dream this, as well."
"Oh but she did!" Michael exploded, leaning across the breakfast table. "Tell them, Wendy!"
Again, everyone looked at her. Wendy placed her toast back down onto her plate, and gave her brothers a cautious smile. "I dreamt not of Pirates and boys in tights, but rather of my school teacher dancing in the classroom with a stout man." It sounded preposterous, even to her, but that was what dreams were; full of imagination. Mother and Father laughed, but John and Michael stayed solemn.
"You're lying, Wendy." John said quietly. "You know all about Never Land just like we do."
"Do not accuse your sister of lying, young man." Mother scolded him sternly. "Lying is not lady-like."
Wendy looked away guiltily, her cheeks flaming. "Yes, mother is right, you know."
In the den, the grandfather clock chimed, telling them all it was no 8 o'clock. "Oh!" Mother exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. "You will be late for school! Come now, let's get ready." John, Michael and Wendy trudged up the stairs and to their bedroom. Once safely inside, Michael turned on his sister.
"Why are you lying to our parents, to Peter?"
"There is no Peter." Wendy mumbled, tears filling her eyes. "Just like there is no Never Land."
All day at school, Wendy kept herself busy by sketching drawings of Peter in her commonplace book. She made sure to get his striking eyes, practically piercing the page if you looked at them directly. When she began on his clothing, she borrowed her desk mate, Elizabeth's coloring pencils to shade in his green shoes and hat. Seeing the picture of him made her even more depressed, wishing that she actually had gone to Never Land. On another page in her commonplace book, she sketched the layout of Never Land. She made sure to include the Pirate Ship wadding near the docks, the cave, the forest where all the Lost Boys lived...
One of her friends, Jillian Margaret, sneaked a glance at her commonplace book during lunch break, and snatched it from her hands, gigging at the pictures. "Look at this!" she pointed the drawing of Peter out to the other girls in year ten. "Wendy has drawn a boy in tights! Someone's having some wild fantasies!"
"Give that back!" Wendy reached for her book, but Jillian pulled it away, laughing.
"Oh and here's a picture of 'Never Land'! What's that, Wendy? Imagination land?"
"I said give that back!" again, she tried to retrieve her book, but Jillian was still showing it off.
"Can I go to Never Land, too? I'd sure like to meet Paul Pan!"
"It's Peter!" Wendy cried, silencing the laughter. Her friends looked at her with confused looks, probably thinking that she had finally cracked. Her chest heaving, Wendy managed to get her book back, and ran inside the school to spend the rest of the lunch period inside the girl's lavatory.
When she got home, Wendy found out she wasn't the only one getting in trouble about Never Land. Michael sat at the table with his parents, squirming in his seat and giving his parents nervous looks. Wendy stopped in the kitchen doorway, alarmed. "What's going on?" she asked. "Is everything alright?"
"Go to your room, Wendy." Father ordered. She retreated, but rather than go to her bedroom, Wendy stayed hidden behind the doorway, listening as her parents argued with Michael.
"Now, tell us why you got in trouble, Michael." Mother said calmly.
He took a deep breath, sucking in practically all the air in the kitchen before speaking. "Today at school, Ms. Lillian asked me how come I was telling people about Never Land. When I told her about it, she told me to stop lying. I tried telling her that I wasn't lying, but she didn't believe me. And then Timothy James asked me about Never Land, so I told him, and then Ms. Lillian found out and sent me to Mr. Burke's office."
"You need to stop this 'Never Land' nonsense." Father said sternly. "It was amusing this morning but now you need to stop."
"It's the truth, though!" Michael protested. "It really did happen!"
"Stop it, Michael!" Mother pushed back her chair. "It was just a dream."
Behind Wendy, the front door opened, and John staggered inside, closing it behind him. "John?" Wendy frowned at him, unsure whether it was a black-eye or a shadow she was seeing on his face. "Did something happen to you at school today?" she noticed something was missing. "Where are your glasses?"
"Broken." He mumbled. "They broke them and hit me when I told them about Never Land."
"Them?" Wendy repeated, alarmed. "Who are you talking about?"
"The boys at school." John explained tiredly, touching his eye and then wincing. "They made fun of me, and then hit me." Without another word, he moved past his sister and into the kitchen. Wendy listened as her mother gushed over him, and then stated the same argument father had with Michael;
"You need to stop this 'Never Land' nonsense!"
The two boys argued for a few moments, until Father stepped in and began threatening them. That's when Michael and John gave up, retreating to their bedroom. Wendy stayed outside the kitchen for a moment, her hand resting on the door frame as if steadying herself. Once upon a time Never Land was as real as real can get; and now...now she just wasn't sure anymore.
