Disclaimer: It has come to my attention (several years ago, in fact) that I am in no way connected to the Chronicles of Narnia or any of its characters. Only the ones (namely Newkirk) that are my own creations belong to me.

Newkirk was striding purposefully toward the train tracks to wait for his train when he heard what sounded like an awful fight.

Pushing to the front of the crowd, he looked down, and amid the flurry of arms, fists, and legs, he saw the last person he expected to see—Peter Pevensie himself, being pummeled by at least two boys. Edmund came hurtling out of the crowd and managed to get one boy distracted from Peter before the police arrived.

Newkirk stationed himself as close to the Pevensies' bench as he could to hear their conversation without being seen.

"You're welcome," Edmund told Peter, eyes angry and troubled.

Peter looked down at his brother in disdain. "I had it sorted." He stood up and wandered over to the track to look for the train.

"What was it this time?" the older sister asked, annoyance and disgust in every word. (Newkirk reflected that the Pevensies never mentioned that they had a good-looking sister.)

"He bumped me," Peter replied, as if that explained everything. Newkirk reached for his notebook—this was a golden opportunity to add on to the Pevensie Watch List: 'starts fights because others bump into him.'

"So you hit him?" the littlest Pevensie asked, her voice disbelieving and her face disappointed.

Newkirk was so busy writing down this new development that he only came back into the conversation when Peter said, "Don't you ever get tired of being treated like a kid?"

Edmund said exactly what Newkirk was thinking. "Um, we are kids."

"Well, I wasn't always," came the reply. Peter went back to sit with his siblings, defeated. His youngest sister (whom Newkirk thought was kind of cute) stroked his arm, understanding. "It's been a year," he went on, his voice catching. "How long does He expect us to wait?"

"I think it's time to accept that we live here," the older girl said practically. At least, it would have been practically had any of what they were saying actually made sense.

Then the train roared in, stopping in front of them. The Pevensies were on their feet in an instant. But there was something different about them, somehow. Peter was no longer the selfish, grumbling boy he had been. The girls and Edmund looked almost older, as if they had aged in their talk with Peter.

They all stood there for a moment, almost dazed, before another boy looked at the oldest girl and said, "Aren't you coming, Phyllis?"

The foursome looked at each other and hurried to join the train. But as he looked for a seat, Newkirk heard Ed say, "Do you think there's any way we could get back? I left my new torch in Narnia!"

They all laughed heartily at this, as at a joke only they could understand.

Perhaps this was right, because Newkirk could not understand at all.

Dear Diary,

It's been a most extraordinary three months since I wrote here last, even though it was only last night. We went back to Narnia. Apparently Caspian called us out of our world by blowing Su's horn.

I had always loved the stories of Arthur's reign, especially the endings that said that he would return one day. Now, I have nothing but pity in my heart for the poor king when he does return.

It's been 1300 years since we left. The Telmarines took over and drove the Narnians into hiding. It's ever such a long story, so I'll only write down the most important parts.

. . . . . . . . . .

(Twelve pages later)

. . . . . . . . . .

And that's the story. We walked through the tree and found ourselves back at the station. I am sure that his talk with Aslan did Pete worlds of good, for when someone purposefully smacked into him on the train, hoping to start a fight, all he did was smile and say, "Sorry." Ah, it's nice to have the old Peter back.

"So, Pevensie," Newkirk said casually after football practice, "I hear that you've not always been children."

Pevensie looked at him curiously and chuckled. "And why do you say that?"

"Why, you, you said it."

"I said it?"

"Peter said it."

"What, exactly, did Peter say?"

"That he wasn't always a child and it's been a year and 'how long does he expect us to wait?'"

"How long does who expect us to wait for what?" Edmund asked. There was a reason he was Master of Rhetoric during the Golden Age.

"He didn't say."

"Newkirk, tell me, is it logical to think that Peter would say that?"

"Well, no."

"And when did Peter say this?"

"Right before the train arrived."

"Oh, he said it on the train?"

"No, no, he said it while you were waiting for the train."

"Really?"

"I think so."

"Newkirk, have you ever thought of getting your ears checked?"

"No."

"I suggest you do. Wait until Peter hears that you heard him say this!" He chuckled and made as if to run off.

"Pevensie," Newkirk said, suddenly pleading, "don't say anything about this, to anyone!"

"Are you sure, Newkirk? I could get a lot of fun out of this."

"I'm sure."

"All right." Edmund decided that on the whole, the conversation had been a success. They would have no trouble from the Busybody Society for at least a week.