Chapter 53: Red Feather. Earring of Gold.

Wendy figured it out in the shower.

"Oh. Wendy." Closing her eyes, she murmured. "Of course."

Washing, drying, and dressing, Wendy donned John's pajamas and climbed into bed. Sitting quietly at the edge, she fingered the dreamcatcher. Her thumb grazed the willow hoop, webbing, blue, pink, and white beads, and the single red feather.

"Of course." she repeated, rising from bed and walking to Jim's room. "Peter. Why didn't you tell me?"

The hallway was dim, save for the white light spilling beneath Jim's door. Wendy glance cautiously to Sarah's bedroom; Sarah had reprimanded her six ways to Sunday for breaking curfew. After a round of "I'm sorry's" she bade Wendy goodnight, and promised further discussion in the morning.

Wendy didn't blame Sarah. She was being a good mother, that was all. Wendy knew she would have acted similarly, and she was sure her own mother would have reacted much worse.

Carefully, Wendy raised a fist to Jim's door. She didn't want to provoke Sarah's anger. "Go straight to bed" meant 'go straight to bed,' – not 'go straight to bed after confronting Jim.' Sarah's orders were not designed for interpretation.

Wendy knew she had best be quiet.

Softly Wendy knocked. There was no response.

"Jim?" she breathed, eyes on Sarah's bedroom.

Nothing. Wendy knocked again, just a little louder. "Jim?"

Again nothing.

Wendy bit her lip. Was he asleep?

She double-checked under the door. Yes. The light was on. Was Jim ignoring her? Or had he just forgotten to turn the light off?

Indecisively, Wendy turned the doorknob. After calling Jim's name without receiving a response, she slowly opened the door. Eyes averted (in case Ariel was inside) she slid through the crack.

"Jim? Jim are you..."

Again Jim did not answer, but Wendy heard rap music. The rapping was thin and distant, as if through headphones.

Wendy looked. Jim was lying in bed, feet at the head and head by the foot. Bulky headphones were blaring rap music into his ears. Wendy mused: No wonder he hadn't heard her.

It was impossible to tell if Jim was asleep or awake; a book covered his eyes, and an arm was slung over the book. Side-stepping for an improved view, Wendy silently read the title. 'Photoelectric Effect: Mechanics of Solar Suffering.'

Reminiscently, Wendy smiled. He must have read that book a dozen times.

As she assessed Jim neither noticed or budged. He was stagnant, but Wendy read his body language clearly.

Rap music: he's frustrated.

Reading: he's trying to calm down.

Not reading: he can't.

Resisting the urge to comfort him, Wendy approached the bed. Gently touching his shoulder, she whispered.

"Jim – "

Jim jerked, inhaling sharply. Removing the book, he blinked groggily before focusing on Wendy.

"Wen." Jim lowered his headphones. He seemed surprised to see her. "Hey."

"I'm sorry." Wendy said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, no. You didn't. Just dozing. One sec..." Leaning, Jim killed the stereo. The rap music faded as he groped for his alarm clock.

"Wow, it's late. Did you just get back?"

"No." Wendy lied.

"You okay? Nightmare?"

"No. No I..." Wendy eased onto the bed. Sitting cross-legged before him, she displayed the dreamcatcher. "I have this."

The comment was unanticipated; Jim didn't have time to hide his reaction. Sagging, he released a relieved sigh. Wendy waited for his confession. But Jim hardened, feigning ignorance.

"What is it?"

Wendy set the dreamcatcher in her lap. Disappointedly she stroked the red feather.

"It's a dreamcatcher."

"Dreamcatcher."

"To catch nightmares."

"Good. That's good."

"Peter made it."

"Hmm."

Wendy looked up. "It was your idea."

Jim was motionless. "No. Pan made it. He gave it –"

"I'm not twelve." Wendy said. "I know it was you."

Jim rubbed the spine of his book. "Did Pan tell you that?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

Wendy remembered something Jim had shouted during their fight.

"I can read you like a book. James Pleiades."

Silence.

"Thank you." Wendy said.

Jim nodded. "Yeah."

"It was kind."

"Didn't want to get puked on tonight."

"But it was very kind." Wendy stressed, frustrated at his humility. "Jim. Thank you."

"...you're welcome Wen."

Wendy turned over the dreamcatcher, deliberating how to phrase her feelings.

"I..." Embarrassed, she swallowed. "I said some things tonight, that I know made you feel very small. And...and I know you would never ask for an apology. But Jim...I was wrong. And I just wanted you to know how truly sorry I am. You and Ariel – "

"Wen." Jim interrupted. "Wen you don't have to do this. Totally unnecessary."

"No it is necessary." Wendy pleaded Jim not to dismiss her. "I said things that were utterly untrue. Jim you are a gentleman – you are! You are the most honest, honorable person I have ever met. And whatever decision you make, I know it is the best. You love Ariel. So it's all right. But regardless, what you are Ariel do is none of my business."

"Actually." Jim said. "It kinda is."

"No. No it's absolutely not."

"It is." Jim repeated. "Otherwise, it's a double standard."

"A double – oh." Subdued, Wendy picked at her pajamas. Uncomfortably she recollected Jim's warning – if Peter ever touched her, he would die. "I...still think it's none of my business. Or yours."

Through the mattress, Wendy felt Jim tense.

"Jim." Contritely, she traced the bedsheet. "Jim. I would never. I would never give myself. Never."

"I know you wouldn't." Jim said. "But. I also know you're thinking about it."

"I...I..."

"You're a pretty girl with a guy that can't keep his hands off you. You also happen to have a crush on him." Jim gazed intently. "Of course you've been thinking about it. It's natural. But, I still don't want Pan touching you."

Wendy shifted uncomfortably. "What about your double standard?"

"And that is why it is your business." Jim explained. "Wen – it was different with Ariel and me. Tonight...tonight was not our first. Our first was six years ago."

"Six years ago? But that would have been before we – " Wendy touched her mouth. She blushed. "Oh. You and Ariel...before we left Fantasia?"

Jim looked down. Placing and replacing his book on the covers, he gently spoke.

"Remember your first date with Peter? The roller skates? Well...it was that night, our last night in Fantasia. Ariel came to me. To make love. But I said no. I knew she was hurting. I knew she was scared. So I said no. I let her know that she didn't have to...because I already loved her."

"But." Jim added, voice faint as falling snow. "But she still said yes. So we made love. It was mutual. It was...right. It felt strange that we hadn't before. Ariel knows I would never hurt her. What we share with our bodies...is underwhelmed by...us."

It was purely the most beautiful thing Wendy had ever heard.

"Jim." she shook her head. "You don't have to tell me this."

Forcing a little smile, Jim rubbed her knee. "I know. But I wanted you to understand. I love Ariel. So everything is all right."

"Everything? Everything is all right?"

"Yes."

"Jim. Are you sure?"

"...yes."

Wendy stared. "You frighten me Jim."

"I...frighten you?" Jim frowned. She looked ready to cry. "Wen. Why?"

Wendy inched closer. Unnerved, Jim receded as she looked through his eyes and into his soul.

"It is frightening." Wendy breathed, brushing his cheek. "What you can hide behind a smile."

Jim tried not to; but he had to break her gaze.

Sadly, Wendy sat. "I'm sorry about your dinner. I'm sorry what Admiral Triton said – that you and Ariel...can never...be together."

Jim gripped the bedsheet. He glared at the floor.

Wendy touched his hand. "You know it's untrue."

"Wen – "

"Jim, I know you don't want to discuss it but – "

"Wendy – "

"But you are my family." Wendy seized his hand before he tore it away. "And when someone hurts you, they hurt me. I know he hurt you. I know they hurt you. I know that you are dying inside, and I know you hit that spot on the wall when you came home. I know that you're still not going to talk about it when I'm through, but I want you to know that you Jim Hawkins are the one that Ariel loves, and you Jim Hawkins are the one she will be with forever."

Wendy released his hand. Meekly, she withdrew. "And that's... all I have to say."

She waited. Her intrusiveness was unnatural, but Jim's pain was obvious as a bleeding wound. His chest was caved, and his head was turned as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jim loathed sympathy; but Wendy couldn't let him hurt alone.

Jim exhaled. His breath was sharp, labored. His eyes were closed, but when they opened, the teal-grey irises were glassy.

"They...just..."

Wendy couldn't help herself. Crawling forward, she gathered Jim in her arms. She did not speak. She did not comfort. She just held, relying on the power of touch.

Wretchedly Jim sighed. Kneading an eye, he withdrew.

"Thanks Wen."

Morph cooed as they shared a second silence.

"What a day, huh?" Jim said.

Wendy faintly agreed.

Jim motioned at the window. The ocean glimmered outside. "Still coming with me tomorrow?"

Sinbad. Wendy silently marveled. From her perspective, Sinbad was a ghost, a villain from Jim's story. Tomorrow...they might actually encounter Jim's father.

Wendy nodded. "Yes. I'll be there for you."

"Good. Bring your needle and thread. I' might need back up. He's a son of a bitch."

Wendy squirmed. Jim smiled.

"Language." they said.

"Okay punk." Leg lifted, Jim slid her off the bed. "Get going. You've got a lot of sleep to make up."

Wendy bounced lightly off the mattress. Dreamcatcher trailing from her hand, she bid Morph goodnight and strode to the door.

Then, she paused.

"Jim? Might I have your earring?"

"My what?"

"Your earring." Wendy pointed to his tiny gold hoop. "May I have it? Please?"

Jim probed his earlobe. "Why?"

"For my dreamcatcher. Peter said for it to work correctly, every part must symbolize me." Raising the dreamcatcher, Wendy stared through the starry webbing. "You're missing."

Something inside Jim brightened – just a touch. Although he remained unsmiling, a dark stain deep inside him glowed like a star.

Jim unfastened his earring. Delicately, he secured it to the dreamcatcher.

"Night Wen."

"Jim. Goodnight."

With Jim's golden earring, the dreamcatcher's magical circuitry was complete. For the first time in ages, Wendy slept. She wonderfully and gloriously slept!

But...she still dreamed.

She dreamed of Peter, smoothing her body; sharing what Ariel and Jim shared; becoming vulnerable, trusting unconditionally; feeling right.

She felt his lips. He was smiling. He was happy. She heard his voice, whispering inside her head.

'Let me say I love you.'

Wendy woke. Dawn was rising. Perhaps it was coincidence, but sky-blue streaks radiated through the pinks and purples like a crown.

A glint pulled her gaze. Jim's gold earring glared in the early morning light. Peter's red feather waved beneath, like a hand beckoning her to come.

'Let me say I love you.'

Wendy covered her mouth.

"All right." she sobbed. "I'll do it."


...

Big4girl poem:

Peter, Peter! What can I do! Peter Pan I love you and I want to show it too! But I'm scared and so are you! So why do I care what we do? It's a battle of feelings inside of my mind! But it's time Peter…its time.

...