WANTED TO FLY
A Short Story
'Cause I wanted to fly,
so you gave me your wings
She shivered, rubbing quivering hands along her arms, keenly aware of the gooseflesh the cold provoked. Her thin, already ragged coat and dress did little to ease matters-- would that she had agreed to become a Lost Girl! At least then she might have one of their thick, soft animal costumes to wrap herself in. Bet they're happy, so far from home, she thought savagely, picturing Peter and his boys warm in their bunks. I bet they've forgotten all about me.
Of course, this was not so, but angry children, especially Jane Darling, tend to do whatever they can to stay angry.
They're happy... so far from home...
The problem was, Jane couldn't be happy like this, never knowing when she would see her family again-- or even if she would. The fight she'd had with her mother before leaving only made matters worse. She had to get back and make amends, if nothing else, before the spell pulled her back again. Peter had found her the preceding night to explain it.
| Everyone here is bound by an enchantment on the island. The longer you stay, the stronger its hold on you is. W-- he stopped, gulped, began again-- your mother-- only stayed here for a day or two, and she was able to get home, but the memories will always haunt her. You've been here for-- what? two days already? You'll be able to get home with no problems, but if you stay much longer, you could be pulled back periodically, at completely random intervals, or worse, you might only be able to stay home for a little while before it finds you and brings you back again. He looked down at her, smiling smugly, an expression that made her want to put a fist to his pug nose, rip out that hair-- about as tacky as an emergency flare, and certainly just as bright-- and generally bring misfortune to his face. She settled for springing to her feet and throwing him-- by the collar-- out of her clearing. Infuriating as ever, he wasn't fazed, but he knew enough not to laugh, either. |
And now the only way out was to fly.
She sighed, twirling a lock of her practically bobbed hair in her fingers. She longed to see little Danny again, to tell him it was all right, she hadn't meant it, Peter Pan wasn't just a fairy tale. Mother, too-- she wanted to know Mother wasn't angry with her, she wanted to see Mother smile again.
She had to get back to Peter.
Peter was the only one who would teach her to fly; flying was the only way out of here. It all made sense. She had to swallow her pride and ask him.
"Peter!"
"Peter Pan!"
A head dropped into view-- a head full of red hair, clad in a green funnel-shaped cap...
"I've been looking all over for you!" they exclaimed in unison.
He dropped to the ground on all fours, then got up, brushing himself off.
Okay, Jane, no time like the present. Swallow your pride...
"Peter?" He looked up, in the midst of removing a burr from one shoe.
"Yeah?"
"Can you-- um-- teach me to-- to fly?"
"Come on, it's not hard. It's like jumping-- the only difference is, it lasts longer. You've got to believe."
Peering down the edge of the cliff, she gave him a skeptical look.
"See? Right there! That's what I mean! No more doubting," he growled playfully, lightly smacking her upside the head.
"Hey! I'll get you for that-- why you little--!"
He had taken off, and was now hovering just out of reach of her wildly flailing arms. Without thinking, she jumped and swatted him back, snatching his cap-- before she realized there was no ground beneath her feet. Her eyes widened in fear, and she scrabbled desperately for something to hold on to, dropping in little spurts as she did so--
"Hey, hold on! You're only falling because you're afraid!" And Peter swooped down to catch her. She sighed in relief.
She hadn't failed Father yet.