Chapter 1: Stories
~~ All children, except one, grow up. ~~
Katie tried as hard as she could not to grow up, but she could not help noticing that she was getting taller, that instead of baseball mitts she was getting makeup for her birthday, that all her friends were pairing up. She looked at the world with angry eyes and longed for the carefree days of childhood. She hid herself in sports, in schoolwork, in anything other than thinking about the undeniable fact: She was growing up.
Sue, on the other hand, was thrilled with the prospect of getting older. She stole her sister's makeup so she could attract boys older than her, and reveled in the intrigue and interest she found in matching others up. She had a full-fledged disdain for her sister, a sense that Katie was not what she was meant to be. After all, for a girl so pretty, to be ruining herself with sports and schoolwork, how very tragic! But there were other matters to attend to; after all, she was growing up.
Of course, they had both heard of Peter, their grandmother was fond of telling them stories of the Neverland and the boy who never grew up, that she had heard growing up, stories that her mother had heard from Wendy, the originator of all such stories. Katie believed in him fervently, but was also absolutely sure he had come to an early end in the never land, a regrettable death that the Darling family would miss for ages. Sue thought the entire thing was a load of rubbish. After all, who wouldn't want to grow up?
Katie and Sue lived on the other side of town from the old house where Peter used to come to hear stories. Their father had sold the house, although grandmother Margaret had wished him not to. After all, if he could afford a house in a nicer neighborhood, why stay in that little old house? So, despite grandmother Margaret's many complaints, they moved away, across to the other side of town.
Katie and Sue often stayed at their grandmother's house on weekends. She loved the company, and Katie loved the stories. Katie would turn the lights out, and they would all sit together in the guest bedroom. "Do you remember the Neverland?" Katie would always ask.
"I think I do," grandmother Margaret would say.
"You do? What happened, what happened?" Katie would always reply. Sue, already imagining that she was too grown up for such silly stories, would sit by idly, rolling her eyes and sighing melodramatically at her grandmother's fanciful nonsense.
And then there were thousands of stories to tell: fighting with the Indians, narrowly escaping being scalped, playing with the Mermaids in the lagoon; stories of the never-bird, the crocodile, and the other various wild animals that thrived on the Neverland. Stories of the little house, first built for Wendy, Katie and Sue's great-great-grandmother, or some such thing. Fairies had moved the little house into the trees, and Peter now resided there, according to grandmother Margaret.
* * * * *
And then there was the story of Wendy, the first girl to know Peter in person. Wendy's daughter, and her daughter had both followed in their mother's footsteps, but Katie had never seen Peter, nor had Sue. "What about mother?" Katie would ask. "Why hasn't she seen Peter, why doesn't she have such wonderful stories to tell?"
"Peter forgot. He had quite a lot of adventures, and for her whole childhood he forgot, or perhaps he is grown up now, or died of a particularly dangerous adventure. But I believe he forgot."
And Katie would sigh this time. "I do hope he remembers before I grow up."
"What on earth are you talking about, Katie?" Sue would retort, listening now that she could berate her sister. She loved being angry with her sister. "You should know that this whole Peter Pan stuff is nonsense! Why won't you just grow up?"
* * * * *
It was after one of these nights, these wonderful, storied nights, when Katie and Sue were asleep, in adjacent sleeping bags on the floor of grandmother Margaret's apartment, when grandmother Margaret woke them up. She threw open the window, and there, in the distance, barely visible, was a little speck of black, a little silhouette, flying off into the night. Not a plane, it moved too fluidly for that. "It's just a bird!" Sue exclaimed. "What's the big deal?"
"That's no bird. That's Peter. He looked in the nursery, and found it deserted." Margaret said. "I hope the stars don't know what's gone on."
"Why? Why don't you want him to find us?" Katie nearly shrieked.
"Whatever would your mother say? She would be heartbroken. And besides, you shouldn't be worried, you're much too old to go to the Neverland, you'll never learn to fly, dear," grandmother Margaret let out a little sigh. "I shall be the last girl to hear Peter's crow when I'm awake." The little shadow flew away, invisible, and grandmother Margaret smiled.
Katie supposed she was right, and after all, there was nothing for her to do but go to bed now. Grandmother Margaret left the room, for her late- night television. She shut and locked the window carefully before leaving.
The minute she left, Katie jumped out of bed, unlocking the window silently, and returning to bed as if nothing at all was amiss. If Peter Pan did find out where the Darlings were, she wanted him to find the window open. Sue grumbled in her sleep but didn't protest too loudly.
* * * * *
Peter had gone to the wrong house. He had remembered it was spring- cleaning time, and hurried to London and the nursery. He flew up to the window, and found it locked. Peering in, through the clear glass, he saw not children, but a puppy, a Newfoundland, with a kennel, and a water bowl, a cage, and two very large, white metal boxes which he was entirely unsure of the use for but he saw clothes on top of them, folded and clean. Nothing like the nursery, this wasn't a nursery at all. Peter turned from the locked window, and flew off to the stars, crying. His mother, Wendy, or was it Jane? Or Margaret? In any case, could she have forgotten about him?
The little stars stopped him. He would have flown all the way back to the Never Land, would have forgotten about mothers in general, as after all, who needed a mother? But the little star yelled out to him as loud as it could yell, "Wait, Peter!"
He turned to the star, the temptation to try and blow it out was usually strong, but for now he was more interested on why he should wait. "What is it?" he said. He had forgotten about crying, but knew he wanted to go back to the Neverland. He had probably been away for quite a while now.
"I saw the Darlings, they moved. I can show you where they are now, see that apartment?"
"Why, that's all the way on the other side of the town!"
"Yes, Peter, it is."
"Are you sure Wendy lives there?"
"Margaret, Peter, Margaret. Wendy died a long while ago."
"Wendy died? How awful! I must avenge her death!" Peter pulled out his knife and would have left to find Wendy's killer right then and there, had the little star not stopped him.
"No, she died of old age, being a very old lady. Margaret is now a grandmother. She is quite grown up."
"Then what do I want with her?" asked Peter, putting back his knife and turning around to go back to the Never Land.
"She has two young grandchildren who know as many stories as Wendy did, if not more. And they can be your mothers."
"Two mothers? But why do I need two mothers?"
"Just go, Peter," the star said, amused with the conversation.
In the apartment, in London, Katie had given up waiting awake for Peter, given up going to the never land, given up having great adventures or any such thing. Sue had not even thought of going to sleep, and was secretly reading a romance novel under her covers. The window was blown open, and Peter silently dropped in, followed by a new fairy, Xanthippe. She was a much more polite and well-bred fairy than Tinker Bell, Peter's first fairy, had been, but then again, she was also even more conceited, if that was possible. She wore a flowing spider-silk dress, colored blue and purple, woven and then cut in several places to make her look almost ghostly in her ethereal quality. One could say that she was a pretty fairy, but she was also continually flying about and few had ever seen her.
Sue, being awake, immediately popped her head out from under the covers. Katie continued to sleep. "There's a boy in the room!" Sue yelped, not quite above a whisper, but audible to Peter. He turned around.
"Hello, what's your name?" he asked.
"What are you doing here?" she replied.
"I'm Peter Pan," he said, confused. "Don't you know me?"
"No, and I hardly want to. You can't be Peter Pan, Peter Pan doesn't exist, he's just a made up story that grandmum Margaret made up!" And with that, Sue huddled back beneath the covers, reading her book.
Peter was quite surprised with this, and she seemed rather knowledgeable, but he had never been told he didn't exist before. "Are you quite sure?" he asked.
She didn't even answer. "What are you hiding for?" he asked, louder. Still, no response was merited from the girl. This was the first time this had ever happened to Peter. He had always expected that his mother would welcome him back. But this girl was horrid. "I can teach you how to fly." It was his last try. It worked.
"You can?" asked Sue. She hadn't quite seen him before, and he was rather charming, if a bit cocky-looking.
"Of course! Now, just think happy thoughts, and they lift you up into the air!"
Sue did, but nothing happened. She looked frustrated and angry. "You liar! You said you could teach me how to fly!" she burrowed back into her bed.
"But wait, you just need the fairy dust! Zan, Zan where are you?" Xanthippe came at once to Peter's shoulder, but Sue was stubborn and would not come out. Peter let Zan float away a little, as all his efforts at retrieving his mother were failing. "You could tell the lost boys stories, and make pockets for us, and… and…" Peter started to cry, hopeless.
Xanthippe felt very sorry for her little human, and floated over to the other sister. In his thrill at finding one of the sisters awake, Peter had quite forgotten Katie. Xanthippe floated down to eye level, and pinched Katie on the nose. Katie was awake at once. She heard Peter's sobs, and turned to look at him.
Katie saw the boy crying, but at the foot of her sister's bed. A shudder passed through her, perhaps grandmother Margaret was right, and she was too old to go away to the never land. But she might as well try. "Boy?" she asked. "Why are you crying?"
Peter, who had forgotten about her, quickly jumped to his feet, thrilled with the prospect. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Katie," she started, then finished, "Katherine Jennifer Darling Wishcourt. But you can call me Katie."
Peter smiled. "My name is Peter Pan."
"I know."
"I've come to get my mother, for spring cleaning."
Katie grinned. "I know. I've been waiting for you."
Sue sat bolt upright in bed, looked from an overjoyed Peter to an even happier Katie, and at once ran to try and find grandmother Margaret. "You can't go, you can't fly, because you're too old!" She yelled behind her.
Peter looked horrified. "Are you a grown-up?" he asked.
"I don't think so," replied Katie.
Xanthippe flew over, and covered Katie with pixie dust, to show her preference of the sisters. Katie sneezed.
Peter smiled. "Just think happy thoughts, and they'll lift you into the air!"
Katie grinned and did as she was told. Soon, she was flying round and round in the air.
Grandmother Margaret hurried into the room, led by Sue. "I told you! He's trying to kidnap her!"
Peter, for a second, didn't recognize Margaret. But Margaret recognized Peter. "Peter… is that you?" she asked, almost trembling.
He glared at the grown-up, and gnashed his teeth at her. Then he looked at Sue. Betrayal filled his eyes, and he screamed. "You're a grown- up too!"
Sue looked scandalized. "What are you talking about?"
"You're a grown-up! You're younger than she is, and you don't believe! You're a grown-up! She's my mother!" Katie came down to the floor, and saw the faces of her sister and her grandmother. Their faces matched, both looked at her with the air of someone who had been betrayed. Katie felt the need to explain herself.
"He needs a mother so much," explained Katie.
Grandmother Margaret sighed, a tear forming in her eye. "I know, I know so very well."
"It's only for spring-cleaning," added Katie. Grandmother Margaret smiled. She had used the same rationalization for her own parents.
Sue looked up at them. "But I'm the younger sister, why can't I go with you?"
"You see, you'll never know how to fly," said Peter. Xanthippe, the fairy, was now hovering over the window, and Peter grabbed Katie's hand and flew into the night, Katie following. Grandmother Margaret ran to the window, watching them disappear, just as she had before, and her mother before her. This was right; this was as it should be. Grandmother Margaret smiled as tears fell down her face. They were hot tears, grieving for the child she once was, now dead and lost inside her. Her mother had once said that when Margaret had left with Peter, she felt as if a child inside her was screaming to be let out. Margaret didn't feel this. She knew that that would be the last time she saw Peter, and somehow it gave finality to her life, seeing her grandchild go off on adventures in the Neverland.
* * * * *
Sue collapsed to the floor, silently crying. She had no such pleasure seeing her sister fly away. That should be her, not Katie. Her tears were jealousy, anguish, and grief. Grief at the lost opportunity, her lost adventures. She pounded the floor with her fist. Grandmother Margaret tried to comfort her, but nothing would work. Sue cried all night long, swearing to herself that somehow, the next time Peter came, she would fly away with him.
~~ All children, except one, grow up. ~~
Katie tried as hard as she could not to grow up, but she could not help noticing that she was getting taller, that instead of baseball mitts she was getting makeup for her birthday, that all her friends were pairing up. She looked at the world with angry eyes and longed for the carefree days of childhood. She hid herself in sports, in schoolwork, in anything other than thinking about the undeniable fact: She was growing up.
Sue, on the other hand, was thrilled with the prospect of getting older. She stole her sister's makeup so she could attract boys older than her, and reveled in the intrigue and interest she found in matching others up. She had a full-fledged disdain for her sister, a sense that Katie was not what she was meant to be. After all, for a girl so pretty, to be ruining herself with sports and schoolwork, how very tragic! But there were other matters to attend to; after all, she was growing up.
Of course, they had both heard of Peter, their grandmother was fond of telling them stories of the Neverland and the boy who never grew up, that she had heard growing up, stories that her mother had heard from Wendy, the originator of all such stories. Katie believed in him fervently, but was also absolutely sure he had come to an early end in the never land, a regrettable death that the Darling family would miss for ages. Sue thought the entire thing was a load of rubbish. After all, who wouldn't want to grow up?
Katie and Sue lived on the other side of town from the old house where Peter used to come to hear stories. Their father had sold the house, although grandmother Margaret had wished him not to. After all, if he could afford a house in a nicer neighborhood, why stay in that little old house? So, despite grandmother Margaret's many complaints, they moved away, across to the other side of town.
Katie and Sue often stayed at their grandmother's house on weekends. She loved the company, and Katie loved the stories. Katie would turn the lights out, and they would all sit together in the guest bedroom. "Do you remember the Neverland?" Katie would always ask.
"I think I do," grandmother Margaret would say.
"You do? What happened, what happened?" Katie would always reply. Sue, already imagining that she was too grown up for such silly stories, would sit by idly, rolling her eyes and sighing melodramatically at her grandmother's fanciful nonsense.
And then there were thousands of stories to tell: fighting with the Indians, narrowly escaping being scalped, playing with the Mermaids in the lagoon; stories of the never-bird, the crocodile, and the other various wild animals that thrived on the Neverland. Stories of the little house, first built for Wendy, Katie and Sue's great-great-grandmother, or some such thing. Fairies had moved the little house into the trees, and Peter now resided there, according to grandmother Margaret.
* * * * *
And then there was the story of Wendy, the first girl to know Peter in person. Wendy's daughter, and her daughter had both followed in their mother's footsteps, but Katie had never seen Peter, nor had Sue. "What about mother?" Katie would ask. "Why hasn't she seen Peter, why doesn't she have such wonderful stories to tell?"
"Peter forgot. He had quite a lot of adventures, and for her whole childhood he forgot, or perhaps he is grown up now, or died of a particularly dangerous adventure. But I believe he forgot."
And Katie would sigh this time. "I do hope he remembers before I grow up."
"What on earth are you talking about, Katie?" Sue would retort, listening now that she could berate her sister. She loved being angry with her sister. "You should know that this whole Peter Pan stuff is nonsense! Why won't you just grow up?"
* * * * *
It was after one of these nights, these wonderful, storied nights, when Katie and Sue were asleep, in adjacent sleeping bags on the floor of grandmother Margaret's apartment, when grandmother Margaret woke them up. She threw open the window, and there, in the distance, barely visible, was a little speck of black, a little silhouette, flying off into the night. Not a plane, it moved too fluidly for that. "It's just a bird!" Sue exclaimed. "What's the big deal?"
"That's no bird. That's Peter. He looked in the nursery, and found it deserted." Margaret said. "I hope the stars don't know what's gone on."
"Why? Why don't you want him to find us?" Katie nearly shrieked.
"Whatever would your mother say? She would be heartbroken. And besides, you shouldn't be worried, you're much too old to go to the Neverland, you'll never learn to fly, dear," grandmother Margaret let out a little sigh. "I shall be the last girl to hear Peter's crow when I'm awake." The little shadow flew away, invisible, and grandmother Margaret smiled.
Katie supposed she was right, and after all, there was nothing for her to do but go to bed now. Grandmother Margaret left the room, for her late- night television. She shut and locked the window carefully before leaving.
The minute she left, Katie jumped out of bed, unlocking the window silently, and returning to bed as if nothing at all was amiss. If Peter Pan did find out where the Darlings were, she wanted him to find the window open. Sue grumbled in her sleep but didn't protest too loudly.
* * * * *
Peter had gone to the wrong house. He had remembered it was spring- cleaning time, and hurried to London and the nursery. He flew up to the window, and found it locked. Peering in, through the clear glass, he saw not children, but a puppy, a Newfoundland, with a kennel, and a water bowl, a cage, and two very large, white metal boxes which he was entirely unsure of the use for but he saw clothes on top of them, folded and clean. Nothing like the nursery, this wasn't a nursery at all. Peter turned from the locked window, and flew off to the stars, crying. His mother, Wendy, or was it Jane? Or Margaret? In any case, could she have forgotten about him?
The little stars stopped him. He would have flown all the way back to the Never Land, would have forgotten about mothers in general, as after all, who needed a mother? But the little star yelled out to him as loud as it could yell, "Wait, Peter!"
He turned to the star, the temptation to try and blow it out was usually strong, but for now he was more interested on why he should wait. "What is it?" he said. He had forgotten about crying, but knew he wanted to go back to the Neverland. He had probably been away for quite a while now.
"I saw the Darlings, they moved. I can show you where they are now, see that apartment?"
"Why, that's all the way on the other side of the town!"
"Yes, Peter, it is."
"Are you sure Wendy lives there?"
"Margaret, Peter, Margaret. Wendy died a long while ago."
"Wendy died? How awful! I must avenge her death!" Peter pulled out his knife and would have left to find Wendy's killer right then and there, had the little star not stopped him.
"No, she died of old age, being a very old lady. Margaret is now a grandmother. She is quite grown up."
"Then what do I want with her?" asked Peter, putting back his knife and turning around to go back to the Never Land.
"She has two young grandchildren who know as many stories as Wendy did, if not more. And they can be your mothers."
"Two mothers? But why do I need two mothers?"
"Just go, Peter," the star said, amused with the conversation.
In the apartment, in London, Katie had given up waiting awake for Peter, given up going to the never land, given up having great adventures or any such thing. Sue had not even thought of going to sleep, and was secretly reading a romance novel under her covers. The window was blown open, and Peter silently dropped in, followed by a new fairy, Xanthippe. She was a much more polite and well-bred fairy than Tinker Bell, Peter's first fairy, had been, but then again, she was also even more conceited, if that was possible. She wore a flowing spider-silk dress, colored blue and purple, woven and then cut in several places to make her look almost ghostly in her ethereal quality. One could say that she was a pretty fairy, but she was also continually flying about and few had ever seen her.
Sue, being awake, immediately popped her head out from under the covers. Katie continued to sleep. "There's a boy in the room!" Sue yelped, not quite above a whisper, but audible to Peter. He turned around.
"Hello, what's your name?" he asked.
"What are you doing here?" she replied.
"I'm Peter Pan," he said, confused. "Don't you know me?"
"No, and I hardly want to. You can't be Peter Pan, Peter Pan doesn't exist, he's just a made up story that grandmum Margaret made up!" And with that, Sue huddled back beneath the covers, reading her book.
Peter was quite surprised with this, and she seemed rather knowledgeable, but he had never been told he didn't exist before. "Are you quite sure?" he asked.
She didn't even answer. "What are you hiding for?" he asked, louder. Still, no response was merited from the girl. This was the first time this had ever happened to Peter. He had always expected that his mother would welcome him back. But this girl was horrid. "I can teach you how to fly." It was his last try. It worked.
"You can?" asked Sue. She hadn't quite seen him before, and he was rather charming, if a bit cocky-looking.
"Of course! Now, just think happy thoughts, and they lift you up into the air!"
Sue did, but nothing happened. She looked frustrated and angry. "You liar! You said you could teach me how to fly!" she burrowed back into her bed.
"But wait, you just need the fairy dust! Zan, Zan where are you?" Xanthippe came at once to Peter's shoulder, but Sue was stubborn and would not come out. Peter let Zan float away a little, as all his efforts at retrieving his mother were failing. "You could tell the lost boys stories, and make pockets for us, and… and…" Peter started to cry, hopeless.
Xanthippe felt very sorry for her little human, and floated over to the other sister. In his thrill at finding one of the sisters awake, Peter had quite forgotten Katie. Xanthippe floated down to eye level, and pinched Katie on the nose. Katie was awake at once. She heard Peter's sobs, and turned to look at him.
Katie saw the boy crying, but at the foot of her sister's bed. A shudder passed through her, perhaps grandmother Margaret was right, and she was too old to go away to the never land. But she might as well try. "Boy?" she asked. "Why are you crying?"
Peter, who had forgotten about her, quickly jumped to his feet, thrilled with the prospect. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Katie," she started, then finished, "Katherine Jennifer Darling Wishcourt. But you can call me Katie."
Peter smiled. "My name is Peter Pan."
"I know."
"I've come to get my mother, for spring cleaning."
Katie grinned. "I know. I've been waiting for you."
Sue sat bolt upright in bed, looked from an overjoyed Peter to an even happier Katie, and at once ran to try and find grandmother Margaret. "You can't go, you can't fly, because you're too old!" She yelled behind her.
Peter looked horrified. "Are you a grown-up?" he asked.
"I don't think so," replied Katie.
Xanthippe flew over, and covered Katie with pixie dust, to show her preference of the sisters. Katie sneezed.
Peter smiled. "Just think happy thoughts, and they'll lift you into the air!"
Katie grinned and did as she was told. Soon, she was flying round and round in the air.
Grandmother Margaret hurried into the room, led by Sue. "I told you! He's trying to kidnap her!"
Peter, for a second, didn't recognize Margaret. But Margaret recognized Peter. "Peter… is that you?" she asked, almost trembling.
He glared at the grown-up, and gnashed his teeth at her. Then he looked at Sue. Betrayal filled his eyes, and he screamed. "You're a grown- up too!"
Sue looked scandalized. "What are you talking about?"
"You're a grown-up! You're younger than she is, and you don't believe! You're a grown-up! She's my mother!" Katie came down to the floor, and saw the faces of her sister and her grandmother. Their faces matched, both looked at her with the air of someone who had been betrayed. Katie felt the need to explain herself.
"He needs a mother so much," explained Katie.
Grandmother Margaret sighed, a tear forming in her eye. "I know, I know so very well."
"It's only for spring-cleaning," added Katie. Grandmother Margaret smiled. She had used the same rationalization for her own parents.
Sue looked up at them. "But I'm the younger sister, why can't I go with you?"
"You see, you'll never know how to fly," said Peter. Xanthippe, the fairy, was now hovering over the window, and Peter grabbed Katie's hand and flew into the night, Katie following. Grandmother Margaret ran to the window, watching them disappear, just as she had before, and her mother before her. This was right; this was as it should be. Grandmother Margaret smiled as tears fell down her face. They were hot tears, grieving for the child she once was, now dead and lost inside her. Her mother had once said that when Margaret had left with Peter, she felt as if a child inside her was screaming to be let out. Margaret didn't feel this. She knew that that would be the last time she saw Peter, and somehow it gave finality to her life, seeing her grandchild go off on adventures in the Neverland.
* * * * *
Sue collapsed to the floor, silently crying. She had no such pleasure seeing her sister fly away. That should be her, not Katie. Her tears were jealousy, anguish, and grief. Grief at the lost opportunity, her lost adventures. She pounded the floor with her fist. Grandmother Margaret tried to comfort her, but nothing would work. Sue cried all night long, swearing to herself that somehow, the next time Peter came, she would fly away with him.