Ch. 4: Not For Me ...
"I have had it up to hear with all your shenanigans! Do any of you have any idea what kind of damage you have done to this family!" Aunt Millicent had been going on like this for about fifteen minutes. She barged in through the front door, screaming for all the boys to line up from smallest to tallest, and so Michael, Erick, Erin, Nibbs, Slightly, Curly, Tootles, and John scrambled from all directions to stand before her.
"Three of you are nearly fourteen!" she bellowed as she looked at John, Tootles, and Curly, "and still you act like barbarians! John, I expected more civility from you!"
"Auntie, I"
"No! You do not have permission to speak! You will have that when I am done laying out perfectly clearly the consequences of your actions to your family, and most importantly, to Wendy!" She breathed hard as she stared down at every single boy. "Did any of you take her well being into consideration?"
"But of course, we did it for her" Tootles said weakly with his head bent down, forcing his eyes to look up at Aunt Millicent.
She gasped, her mouth hung open, and turned to face Tootles who was second to last, next to John. "For ... her?" she asked with an eerie calm.
"Yes, it was all for her," Erick added, the twin closest to Michael.
Evident that she was about to lose whatever patience she had managed to maintain, she softly ordered, "Explain."
A moment of silence passed as they all searched for the right words, before Nibs finally spoke out, "Well, we don't think any of those boys ... were good enough ... for her ..."
She closed her eyes as she strove to breathe and retain her calm, while rubbing her temples with her fingertips. "Wendy," she paused momentarily as she opened her eyes, "is fortunate indeed to have so many proper, and wealthy young men come to court her. Why would you say that they are 'not good for her'?"
Nibs opened his mouth to answer, but realized that he had no words with which to respond. They all furrowed their brows and remained silent as they searched their minds for the reason for their driving away all suitors, until Slightly finally spoke up.
"Because, mother," he said as he rose his head to look at her with the strongest and most assured gaze, "no ordinary boy will do."
After a stern lecture, all the boys were ordered to the nursery, which was now occupied by Michael and the twins only. They trudged up the steps with their heads drooping, as if they'd been sentenced to the guillotine rather than just to an early bedtime for two weeks without play.
"I still say we did nothing wrong," Slightly mumbled below his breath as he closed the nursery door behind him.
"Of course we did!" John said firmly. "We've chased away some very important people's sons. Father could have made some very worthy acquaintances had their children not run out of this house like the devil was at their heels."
Michael giggled, "It was pretty funny how we made 'young Thomas' almost relieve himself in his own trousers when we told him our home was haunted by our deceased aunt, and even funnier when she actually roamed the halls!"
"Aww, yes, 'tis was my best performance yet," Slightly grinned remembering the whole devious charade. "Ohhh," he moaned, "my curse will fall upon all members of this familyyyy ... ohhhhhhh!" he moaned in a low voice as he dangled his hands high above his head. The twins and Michael giggled, while the older boys tried their best to suppress their smiles, but in the end, they gave up and joined in on the laughter. "Put another notch on our tally, Nibs," Slightly said as he sat down on the bed.
Nibs walked over the chalkboard placed to the side of the window, which the twins and Michael used for arithmetic problems and grammar studies. It stood on two legs and rotated vertically, allowing use of two sides. He turned it over, revealing the words "Proper Suitors" with a crudely drawn face blowing raspberries, and twelve strikes of chalk below.
He picked up a piece of chalk from the tiny tin bucket below the chalkboard and placed one more strike. "Thirteen" he said, nodding his head, "not too shabby."
"Blimey, I wasn't aware it had been so many."
Every single one of them gasped and turned quickly to look at Wendy, who had quietly entered the room. "Wendy, um...," Nibs said as he stepped in front of the chalkboard, trying to conceal its contents.
"It's alright, Nibs," she said as she closed the door behind her and walked towards the center of the room. "I just came to see how you were all doing. After being disciplined by Aunt Millicent, I usually felt like crying for days."
The boys gave a forced giggle as Wendy's concern overpowered their sense of triumph with shame. "Wendy, have we truly ruined your life?" Erick asked, hugging his toy soldier and cast his gaze down to the floor.
She turned to look at him, her heart warming by the sight of his remorse. "Of course not," she replied softly. She smiled and sat down next to him, hugging him close and running her left hand through his ash brown hair. "To be honest, I did not care much for the young Thomas Quiller Couch, or for any of those others that you all managed to run out of the house." She tilted her head and raised his chin to make his eyes meet hers. "You were right...they are not for me."
Smiles formed on the boys' faces, as they realized that Wendy was not upset at all. "Wendy, would you favor us with another story tonight?" Curly asked.
"Of course, every night," Wendy replied, smiling brightly at her little brother "and I know which one I want to tell tonight." She waited for all the boys to find a seat, on the floor, near the window or draped over the beds, wherever they could find a comfortable nook, before she began.
"There once was a boy who lived in a land of dreams and wonders beyond our eyes. He held golden sunshine in his hair, with eyes of perfect green, and a smile that promised mischief and fun. He lived a charmed life, soaring high through the endless skies, with no wings at all, but the power of his own joy. His only task in every day was to fight the pillagers of a child's dreams, and defend the purity of innocence. He was the father and child of his land, protecting it as it, in turn, protected him, embracing him in its loving arms, and keeping him forever safe in childhood. He visits us all, in the night, while with closed eyes we still see those wonderful visions that, when awake, will never be.
"Now, this land of joy was not all brightness and light. It had a dark side, a most evil villain that tried night and day to be rid of the golden boy and everything he stood for."
Wendy continued her story, moving her hands in gestures to show the brightness of every sunny day, and imitating the motion of flight, which she knew well from the dreams she had every night. As she told them of the final battle between the dark lord and the golden boy, she danced the steps of a swordfight, ending in the latter spiraling into the air, after defeating his adversary.
"So forever, the golden boy, flies through the night, crowing to alert all the children of his arrival, so that they will wish in their hearts, with all their might, for a chance for magic, fun and flight. Such is the story of the boy ... who will never grow old."
She spoke her last words, smiling as the visions of her dreams drifted in her mind.
"That was wonderful Wendy," Erin said as he sat cross-legged on the floor, resting his chin on his knuckles.
"But why did you not use Peter's name?" Michael asked.
Wendy turned to face him, a bit surprised by his comment. "His name?"
"Yes" he replied with an innocent look on his face.
"Have I...ever told you this story before?" she asked a bit confused.
Michael moved his lips, about to respond when John quickly chimed in. "But of course, a long time ago. I know I've heard of it."
"Yes, except then you included us all, and this time you did not," Nibs added.
"No," the twins said in unison, looking around at all the boys. "It was not a story!" one said. "Peter really did come!" the other added.
"Yes!" Michael exclaimed, relieved that some one else shared his knowledge.
"Please .,. you have obviously confused reality with a fantasy," John said as he took his glasses off and cleaned the lenses with a cloth.
"I'm telling you, he's real! We were there! We were all there," Erin exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
"That kind of thing cannot be real!" Slightly rebutted from across the room.
"Of course it can!" Michael screamed back at him. Soon enough, the nursery resonated with arguments between the older boys, stating the impossibility of such a story being real, and the younger boys exclaiming that they knew it was. As words were exchanged, Wendy walked towards the window and leaned against the sill, looking up into the heavens, for a familiar sight. A far away glow twinkled bright as her eyes rested upon it. Peter Pan couldn't possibly be real, could he?