Chapter 1: The Portrait of Slightly
Nibs, the gay and debonair, followed by Slightly, who cuts whistles out of the trees and dances ecstatically to his own tunes. Slightly is the most conceited of the boys. He thinks he remembers the days before he was lost, with their manners and customs, and this has given his nose an offensive tilt.
From Peter Pan
It was the next morning that the children were to come awake to sounds of their mother packing her things and their things and assorted other things in multiple suitcases. They were told to quickly dress and eat breakfast as their flight was leaving early. They ate quicker than they'd ever eaten before and then the finished packing with the same confused speed. The plane ride went with many a teary glance at their mother who seemed convinced the lack of their father was nothing to be concerned about.
Harper herself had too much on her mind to reassure her little brothers and much of the ride was spent with her head leaning on the tiny port-window remembering all the stories. Getting off the plane was a somber occasion, not the merry excitement filled event that plane rides usually culminated in. They gathered their luggage and caught a cab to their grandfather's house. It was a magnificent house really, one fitting that of the late Lord. The slowly setting sun illuminated it in an astounding way. It was one inconsistency of the stories her grandfather had passed down of Slightly… How could anyone that had had that much adventure marry into a title and then forget all about it? She shrugged and grabbed her suitcase. The family trooped as a somber bunch up to the door of the house. Her mother's feeble knock was answered by an equally feeble old man.
"Father!" her mother cried and gently embraced the old man. "You should be in bed resting!" The old man gave a harsh laugh and stepped back from the hug.
"Ever practical my dear. How are my grandkids?" Her brothers politely skirted around his questions and dutifully hugged him before being sent to their rooms. Her mother marched right up after them. Harper closed the door and then stepped to her grandfather. She held up the book of her great-grandfather's tales.
"H-How much of this is true?" she croaked. She had to know. She wanted desperately to believe as she had never believed in anything else to this point in her life. Her grandfather looked nostalgically at the book then wrapped a shaky arm around her shoulder. He led her into the drawing room where he pointed at a portrait of her great-grandfather.
"Take it down" he coughed. She obliged and with little difficulty took the painting down and set it on the table. Behind it was a clichéd vault behind the portrait. Her grandfather unlocked it and pulled up a rolled up paper, two straps that looked almost like belts, a scruffy looking cap, a spyglass, and what looked to be a pirate hat and coat. Her grandfather sat down in a nearby armchair and unrolled the paper. It was multiple sketches. "This is what your great-grandfather sketched in school a month after being adopted by the Darlings." It showed a fairy and a boy clothed in leaves in one corner. Names of pirates filled another corner. A tree house stood in the center. It depicted some of the people mentioned in stories, like the crocodile and Tiger Lily. "The spyglass was Peter's last gift to his best mate. The straps were what Nana used to hold them down when they could still fly. The Pirate hat and coat were his remnants of his last great adventure with Peter; the cap being part of his daily wardrobe in the Neverland. It still smells like the trees and faerie dust there." Harper gently put the cap upon her head. She could smell the trees; see herself flying around having adventures. She smiled and then went about examining the items. Her grandfather watched with an air of happiness, though he was so weak that facial expressions were hard to come by.
"If this all exists, then the nursery…The Nursery! Where is it? May I see it? Is Peter still alive? Oh is he?" Her grandfather let out a cough that might have been a chuckle and then grabbed a nearby piece of paper and pen. He scratched down something, handed it to Harper and said, "Two blocks to the right, big house pinkish shutters… give this paper to the lady who will answer the door." Harper nodded. "I'll tell your mom you're doing something for me. Don't stay too long." Her grandfather smiled as she rushed out. His mission was complete. At least one of the next generation believed, and that was all it took to keep Peter Pan coming back.