Chapter 2: Journey
~~Second to the right, and straight on 'till morning~~
Katie was better at flying than Wendy had been, or even Jane or Margaret. When Peter had taken them to the Neverland, he had to always wait for them and would sometimes even abandon them for a short time, finding them again before they were too hopelessly lost. They would also continue kicking forever, no matter how much Peter told them that kicking helped nothing. Of course, Peter didn't remember any of this, but it is good to know that all the sports that Katie participated in had given her at least that advantage on her ancestors.
Katie had stopped kicking long ago and could nearly keep up with Peter, going on adventures with him sometimes. Once, they nearly blew out a star, but it turned around just in time to see the children and start scolding them. They flew away, heading towards the Neverland. Peter thought this completely normal, as was his way, and was thrilled at what a fast learner she was, as he headed off in a presumably random direction. After all, Peter just did the first thing that came to his head.
Katie, of course, knew that he was heading in a random direction, but she didn't ask questions. After all, he had been nice enough to teach her how to fly, and she didn't want to impose. The truth about the Neverland is that the only real way it is possible to reach it is if it is looking out for you, but Katie had no way of knowing this. However, the Neverland was unprepared at that moment, and was not looking for them. So they didn't find it.
Katie's endurance was nearly as good as Peter's, although she did enjoy resting on strong winds and catching a few minutes of sleep before flying off again, to another adventure. But she could keep up with him on most of those adventures, and most of the time in between. As he had done with Margaret, and before with Jane, and before with Wendy, he would often play follow-the-leader, skimming the surface of the ocean and touching the top of each passing shark. Katie touched a few, but missed most of them. After all, she wasn't that experienced at flying. But on the whole, they had quite a good time, adventuring and joyous all the way to the Neverland. They did have so many adventures.
Which one shall I tell you about? Although, there were so many more adventures in the Neverland than there were before they reached the Neverland that telling you about an adventure now would do those adventures disservice. To tell all of them would take much longer than I have time to afford. I suppose the one where they went about blowing out stars would be the best, as you already have heard of it.
Blowing out stars was one of Peter's favorite pastimes. Sometimes, at night when the stars came out, he would lead Katie up into the sky, and they would creep up behind a star and blow it out. You had to be silent, and quite careful not to breathe, or else the star would hear you and you would have to start all over again. In this game, for once, Katie had the advantage over Peter, she was naturally a much more careful person, being a girl and older.
"Now, you just creep up right behind them, and blow! They can't move, you see, they're quite stuck up here. All they can do is watch what happens down below, and speak in their little star-language. That's the twinkling, it's them talking. Only the younger ones will talk. The older ones are all too stubborn and set in their ways." Peter was describing how to blow out a star, and had gone off on a bit of a tangent. But Katie found it interesting and didn't stop him. "You see, they've all been up here for so long, that they've quite forgotten what it was for in the beginning!"
Katie smiled, and they each chose a star to sneak up on.
Slowly, carefully, Katie neared her star. Just a few more feet, a few more inches… almost there, ready, and—
Just as she was about to blow, Peter came charging over. His star had caught him, and, wanting to tell Katie exactly what had happened, he caused Katie's star to turn around, and yell out in the star language several obscenities from the fright. After all, to see a young girl only a few inches away from your face after so long of watching from afar, is quite a surprise. A little disappointed, but on the whole quite happy, Peter and Katie returned to skimming the water, looking for sharks, on their way to the Neverland.
Of course they had to spend time in the fairy court. After all, Xanthippe insisted upon it. The court of fairies was better mannered than the group of common fairies that Tinker Bell had tended to consort with. Peter and Katie received quite a reception, partly because he was Peter, but mainly because his fairy was Xanthippe and Xanthippe was a noble fairy. But despite their better manners, when Katie left the fairy court, her hair was knotted and tangled, and her nose was sore from the pinching. Peter was, of course, fine.
Katie supposed that many of those fairies had secret, or not so secret crushes on Peter. She couldn't help but admit to herself that he was rather charming. But then she remembered the stories. Of course he's charming. He's been charming since great-great-grandmother Wendy knew him, and before that. He's been charming since he was born, I suppose. But did that mean anything? Katie was there for the adventures, not the fact that Peter was cute. That was a reason that Sue would use.
If only there were a way to stop her, to tell her she should turn back now, that she would be sorely disappointed with her lot in the Neverland. For while for Wendy and Jane, sewing and pretending to be the mother of a large family was pleasant, Katie would certainly hate it. And yet, that was what she had signed up for. Had she not said she would be Peter's mother? What did she expect? Oh, the fickleness of childhood. One would think she would be smart enough, being older than Wendy had been, or Jane, or even Margaret. But our wishes are not granted. Katie has chosen to go confidently on, thinking that she will simply partake in even more adventures upon her arrival in the Neverland.
* * * * *
The Neverland knew Peter was trying to find it, and was hurriedly preparing for his return. It is a commonly known fact that the Neverland sunk into a stupor when Peter was gone, partly because he hated to miss out on any adventures, and partly because the entire island was simply so tired from all those adventures that it had to rest every chance that it got. Therefore, whenever Peter was coming back, the island figuratively shook itself and woke up, getting adventures ready for the boy.
At that minute, the island was planning quite a large adventure. The Indians were on the warpath again, looking for scalps to decorate themselves with. Tiger Lily had gotten a grand total of 10 scalps since the time of Jas. Hook, an assortment of intruders and others. She always remained truthful to her bargain with Peter, that she would be his friend. This entailed not attacking the lost boys, no matter how tempting it was. Of course, some of the boys had died in fights since then, but those were merely friendly games, and there were no hard feelings. After all, as many Indians had died in those same squabbles.
Before leaving, she had made sure that Starkey was, as always, kept busy minding the papooses, and although he was growing quite restless as of late, she had no doubt that he had forgotten all of his pirate-y ways and was stuck as a baby-sitter for the rest of his life. Besides, his sword was hanging on her teepee wall, and he most certainly could not get it without permission from the tribe.
The lost boys were swimming in the lagoon, although none of them had the courage to swim deep and talk to the mermaids. It was a rather young group of lost boys, and a large one too. Ever since the fight with Hook, few lost boys had died by the Indians and none by the hand of a Pirate. None of the boys remembered Hook, as all of those lost boys had been found and adopted by Wendy, but the story of Peter's valiant defeat of the only man that the sea-cook had feared was a general favorite, and was passed down from boy to boy. It could be argued that the boys in general liked Cinderella better, but Peter insisted that Hook was their favorite, so they conceded. However, at that moment, the thought of Hook was far from their minds, perhaps unfortunately so. Because, as the island shook itself awake in preparation for Peter's return, a black dot appeared on the horizon. None of them recognized it, no one realized what it was; they all ignored it. After all, it was still a long way off.
A cold wind blew over the Neverland, and the lost boys decided that perhaps they should retreat to the house in the trees, or hunt animals, do something that didn't involve getting wet. A few of them got out, and one spoke. This one was John, who came to the island soon after Wendy had left, and was consequently named after some John that Peter had remembered at the time. He was quite proud and considered himself a second-in-command to Peter, but in reality was nothing like the other boy, and had no chance of leadership. The lost boys were not allowed to choose seconds-in-command, Peter's rules. "Hey! I say we should go hunting or something! What do you say, Tobby?"
"I agree, what do you say, Daisy?" asked Tobby, pulling one of the older boys out of the water. Poor Daisy had come to the Neverland thinking he had a name. Calling himself David, he quickly got the nickname Davey and that degenerated to Daisy. But now, all that forgotten, he answered only to the name Daisy. In fact, he was true to his name, with leaves and blossoms of strange flowering plants in his hair, even now.
"I say hunting sound like jolly good fun! What do you say, Dows?"
"I say I'd like to hunt, what do you say, Beetle?"
"Okay, what do you think, John?" Beetle was the youngest, named for his tendency to curl up into a little ball like a small insect when he was frightened. He hadn't quite gotten his feet under him yet, and fell often enough to be a spectacle amongst the lost boys. Of course, with the furs that they wore, when they fell, they rolled.
"Beetle, I've already answered," replied John. "Let's go, then. What shall we hunt today, Daisy?"
"I dunno, what do you think, Tobby?"
"I dunno, what do you think, Dows?"
"I dunno, what do you think, Beetle?"
"I dunno, whaddya think, John?"
John sighed.
They set off to hunt something, although no one knew quite what they would hunt.
* * * * *
Smee had spent years for this moment. He only had a vague memory of Peter Pan, but he knew that he had a friend and brother before Pan killed him. Now, the only man who James Hook feared, the Irish bo'sun, the man who killed without offense, was back for revenge on Pan. Revenge on Pan, and those foolish lost boys who had killed his compatriots. Tootles, Curly, Nibs, Slightly, and those Twins. It would be harder this time, because they had a mother. But he was the only man Hook had feared! Hook was the only man who the sea-cook had feared! What did he, Smee, have to fear from a little boy?
Little did Smee, foolish Smee, know that all those lost boys had long since grown up, adopted by the Darlings and brought up by Wendy. They had long since died, of various commonplace diseases and other ailments. They had forgotten, stopped believing in his very existence, long before that. If Smee had known, he would probably have been marginally insulted that he did not leave any impression on a boy. But Smee didn't know. Nor did he know that the new group of lost boys, the group he was approaching now was completely different. What would he have done if he had found out? We will never know.
* * * * *
On the mainland, there was a knock at Katie's grandmother Margaret's door. She had grown weaker overnight, and her legs shook as she stumbled to the door, to open it. It was Katie's mother, Mrs. Wishcourt. Sue ran up to her mother, pushing Margaret aside. Margaret stumbled, grabbing the wall, before slowly progressing to the door. Sue was talking to her mother.
"Mother, mother, Katie's ran away!"
"Flew," corrected Margaret.
"Flew? That's impossible," replied Mrs. Wishcourt. "No one can fly!"
"Katie can," insisted grandmother Margaret
"Is this another or your silly stories about Peter Pan and the Neverland?"
"They're not silly stories. Katie flew away to the Neverland with Peter Pan."
"If they're true, then why haven't I seen the boy? What happened to my trips to the Neverland?"
"He forgot. Peter does have a terrible memory," sighed grandmother Margaret. She sounded quite fond of the fact that he tended to forget everything and anything.
Mrs. Wishcourt's shock and anger was clear from her face. She could take no more of this nonsense. "What have you done with my daughter, mother? Where is she?"
"She's in the Neverland, mother!" said Sue. Sue didn't know why her mother hadn't believed her grandmother. After all, it was true, wasn't it?
Mrs. Wishcourt glared at her daughter, and looked almost ready to smack her. "You stop repeating those filthy lies! What have I brought you up for, if you just reject all common sense and take on these stupid stories?" Sue looked dejected. But then again, should she be, really? After all, she had a chance to show her sister that she would regret flying off like that and abandoning her little sister.
"Susan is telling the truth. Katherine is in the Neverland, with Peter."
"Mother, don't play with me. I know those stories aren't true. What happened to my daughter?"
Grandmother Margaret sighed. "Why would I lie to you about something like that, dear? I don't just make such things up."
"Yes you do, you have since I was a little girl! You've always been lying to me! I know about Peter Pan, you told me those same stories when I was a child. Stories, mother. That's all they are, stories. If you go around, polluting my children's brains with such arrant nonsense, expecting them to believe that, and then maintaining that my oldest daughter has run away to the Neverland, you do not know me."
"I only tell you what I know. I saw Peter last night, and so did Sue."
Sue glared at her grandmother. Now was her chance to make them all forget Katie, get revenge on the supreme injury of getting something that Sue could not have. It was her fault that Sue was not in the Neverland with Katie. Her and Katie's fault, and now Sue could get revenge on them both. She should be in the Neverland. After all, in hindsight, that Peter boy was rather cute. "You're lying."
Grandmother Margaret could only stare at her granddaughter, shocked. They say that once you have been betrayed once you never feel the same way again, and for the most part this is true. Margaret had become used to treachery and deception in her life, but this was another matter. Right then, when she saw her grandchild stare at her with such hatred, and openly lie about her, she felt that pang of injury just as if it were the first. Her daughter was talking.
"Mother, what really happened?"
Margaret could do nothing. She felt her lungs constricting. Her legs weakened, and she thought she would fall to the floor. Her daughter caught her.
"What really happened last night?"
Margaret couldn't believe it. This was supposedly her daughter. This awful woman, who continued to ask about something that may or may not have happened last night when her mother was dying. "Get me to a hospital, damn it! I'm dying, can't you tell!" She yelled, at the top of her voice, but it only came out a whisper.
Margaret lost consciousness as she was taken to the hospital in her daughter's car.
* * * * *
The window to the apartment remained open, ready for Katie when she should come home. After all, all the Darlings came home soon, didn't they? No one was alive who could remember precisely. But the window was open despite any of that, and now there was no one to close it. Katie would have a place to come back to, when she came back.
The door was unlocked, open, waiting for friendly neighbors to politely close it, or for unfriendly neighbors to come in and do what they would. No one cared anymore. All those who would have cared were gone. The entry hall was alight, and there were no signs of anyone leaving, not even a hasty retreat to another part of town. In the kitchen, a kettle of water put to heat boiled, and whistled, wanting to be turned off. No one came. The milk and cereal were standing by for a breakfast to be put away, dirty dishes waiting to be washed.
In the bedroom, where remained the open window, the drapes blew haphazardly in the breeze, and threatened to pull away from the room itself. Anything light enough to be lighted by the wind in the room was, and a torrent of papers flew around and around before settling temporarily to the floor, to the music of the shrieking teakettle. A fine, sparkling dust filtered through the air, settling on the floor to be sucked up by a vacuum cleaner, or picked up on a dust-rag. And one sleeping bag remained in the room, a navy-blue reminder of the girl who had left, a lonely bag, without its pink companion, and devoid of its customary human habitation. The noise got louder.
The dust settled on the sleeping bag, and it floated like one of the papers, into the air, catching in the breeze. It whipped around the room, knocking over several objects before flying out the window and racing out, on the wind, to some other part of town, ripping the curtains with it and taking them away too. Several people on the street remarked on it, but then stopped paying any attention to it. Inside, the kettle continued to shriek.
* * * * *
No one knew how the fire started, but it burned down most of the building before it was finally quenched. There were some rumors of a stove left on, but who would be stupid enough to leave their stove on when they left the house? All the tenants could do was curse their luck and look for housing nearby. At least the building didn't fall down, that would have rendered a larger area uninhabitable.
And remaining, in the burnt-out shell of the top floor where Grandmother Margaret used to live, was a gaping hole of what once was an open window, suitable to match the rest of the building, and a fine dust, left to be blown away in the breeze, mixed with ashes, and forgotten.
~~Second to the right, and straight on 'till morning~~
Katie was better at flying than Wendy had been, or even Jane or Margaret. When Peter had taken them to the Neverland, he had to always wait for them and would sometimes even abandon them for a short time, finding them again before they were too hopelessly lost. They would also continue kicking forever, no matter how much Peter told them that kicking helped nothing. Of course, Peter didn't remember any of this, but it is good to know that all the sports that Katie participated in had given her at least that advantage on her ancestors.
Katie had stopped kicking long ago and could nearly keep up with Peter, going on adventures with him sometimes. Once, they nearly blew out a star, but it turned around just in time to see the children and start scolding them. They flew away, heading towards the Neverland. Peter thought this completely normal, as was his way, and was thrilled at what a fast learner she was, as he headed off in a presumably random direction. After all, Peter just did the first thing that came to his head.
Katie, of course, knew that he was heading in a random direction, but she didn't ask questions. After all, he had been nice enough to teach her how to fly, and she didn't want to impose. The truth about the Neverland is that the only real way it is possible to reach it is if it is looking out for you, but Katie had no way of knowing this. However, the Neverland was unprepared at that moment, and was not looking for them. So they didn't find it.
Katie's endurance was nearly as good as Peter's, although she did enjoy resting on strong winds and catching a few minutes of sleep before flying off again, to another adventure. But she could keep up with him on most of those adventures, and most of the time in between. As he had done with Margaret, and before with Jane, and before with Wendy, he would often play follow-the-leader, skimming the surface of the ocean and touching the top of each passing shark. Katie touched a few, but missed most of them. After all, she wasn't that experienced at flying. But on the whole, they had quite a good time, adventuring and joyous all the way to the Neverland. They did have so many adventures.
Which one shall I tell you about? Although, there were so many more adventures in the Neverland than there were before they reached the Neverland that telling you about an adventure now would do those adventures disservice. To tell all of them would take much longer than I have time to afford. I suppose the one where they went about blowing out stars would be the best, as you already have heard of it.
Blowing out stars was one of Peter's favorite pastimes. Sometimes, at night when the stars came out, he would lead Katie up into the sky, and they would creep up behind a star and blow it out. You had to be silent, and quite careful not to breathe, or else the star would hear you and you would have to start all over again. In this game, for once, Katie had the advantage over Peter, she was naturally a much more careful person, being a girl and older.
"Now, you just creep up right behind them, and blow! They can't move, you see, they're quite stuck up here. All they can do is watch what happens down below, and speak in their little star-language. That's the twinkling, it's them talking. Only the younger ones will talk. The older ones are all too stubborn and set in their ways." Peter was describing how to blow out a star, and had gone off on a bit of a tangent. But Katie found it interesting and didn't stop him. "You see, they've all been up here for so long, that they've quite forgotten what it was for in the beginning!"
Katie smiled, and they each chose a star to sneak up on.
Slowly, carefully, Katie neared her star. Just a few more feet, a few more inches… almost there, ready, and—
Just as she was about to blow, Peter came charging over. His star had caught him, and, wanting to tell Katie exactly what had happened, he caused Katie's star to turn around, and yell out in the star language several obscenities from the fright. After all, to see a young girl only a few inches away from your face after so long of watching from afar, is quite a surprise. A little disappointed, but on the whole quite happy, Peter and Katie returned to skimming the water, looking for sharks, on their way to the Neverland.
Of course they had to spend time in the fairy court. After all, Xanthippe insisted upon it. The court of fairies was better mannered than the group of common fairies that Tinker Bell had tended to consort with. Peter and Katie received quite a reception, partly because he was Peter, but mainly because his fairy was Xanthippe and Xanthippe was a noble fairy. But despite their better manners, when Katie left the fairy court, her hair was knotted and tangled, and her nose was sore from the pinching. Peter was, of course, fine.
Katie supposed that many of those fairies had secret, or not so secret crushes on Peter. She couldn't help but admit to herself that he was rather charming. But then she remembered the stories. Of course he's charming. He's been charming since great-great-grandmother Wendy knew him, and before that. He's been charming since he was born, I suppose. But did that mean anything? Katie was there for the adventures, not the fact that Peter was cute. That was a reason that Sue would use.
If only there were a way to stop her, to tell her she should turn back now, that she would be sorely disappointed with her lot in the Neverland. For while for Wendy and Jane, sewing and pretending to be the mother of a large family was pleasant, Katie would certainly hate it. And yet, that was what she had signed up for. Had she not said she would be Peter's mother? What did she expect? Oh, the fickleness of childhood. One would think she would be smart enough, being older than Wendy had been, or Jane, or even Margaret. But our wishes are not granted. Katie has chosen to go confidently on, thinking that she will simply partake in even more adventures upon her arrival in the Neverland.
* * * * *
The Neverland knew Peter was trying to find it, and was hurriedly preparing for his return. It is a commonly known fact that the Neverland sunk into a stupor when Peter was gone, partly because he hated to miss out on any adventures, and partly because the entire island was simply so tired from all those adventures that it had to rest every chance that it got. Therefore, whenever Peter was coming back, the island figuratively shook itself and woke up, getting adventures ready for the boy.
At that minute, the island was planning quite a large adventure. The Indians were on the warpath again, looking for scalps to decorate themselves with. Tiger Lily had gotten a grand total of 10 scalps since the time of Jas. Hook, an assortment of intruders and others. She always remained truthful to her bargain with Peter, that she would be his friend. This entailed not attacking the lost boys, no matter how tempting it was. Of course, some of the boys had died in fights since then, but those were merely friendly games, and there were no hard feelings. After all, as many Indians had died in those same squabbles.
Before leaving, she had made sure that Starkey was, as always, kept busy minding the papooses, and although he was growing quite restless as of late, she had no doubt that he had forgotten all of his pirate-y ways and was stuck as a baby-sitter for the rest of his life. Besides, his sword was hanging on her teepee wall, and he most certainly could not get it without permission from the tribe.
The lost boys were swimming in the lagoon, although none of them had the courage to swim deep and talk to the mermaids. It was a rather young group of lost boys, and a large one too. Ever since the fight with Hook, few lost boys had died by the Indians and none by the hand of a Pirate. None of the boys remembered Hook, as all of those lost boys had been found and adopted by Wendy, but the story of Peter's valiant defeat of the only man that the sea-cook had feared was a general favorite, and was passed down from boy to boy. It could be argued that the boys in general liked Cinderella better, but Peter insisted that Hook was their favorite, so they conceded. However, at that moment, the thought of Hook was far from their minds, perhaps unfortunately so. Because, as the island shook itself awake in preparation for Peter's return, a black dot appeared on the horizon. None of them recognized it, no one realized what it was; they all ignored it. After all, it was still a long way off.
A cold wind blew over the Neverland, and the lost boys decided that perhaps they should retreat to the house in the trees, or hunt animals, do something that didn't involve getting wet. A few of them got out, and one spoke. This one was John, who came to the island soon after Wendy had left, and was consequently named after some John that Peter had remembered at the time. He was quite proud and considered himself a second-in-command to Peter, but in reality was nothing like the other boy, and had no chance of leadership. The lost boys were not allowed to choose seconds-in-command, Peter's rules. "Hey! I say we should go hunting or something! What do you say, Tobby?"
"I agree, what do you say, Daisy?" asked Tobby, pulling one of the older boys out of the water. Poor Daisy had come to the Neverland thinking he had a name. Calling himself David, he quickly got the nickname Davey and that degenerated to Daisy. But now, all that forgotten, he answered only to the name Daisy. In fact, he was true to his name, with leaves and blossoms of strange flowering plants in his hair, even now.
"I say hunting sound like jolly good fun! What do you say, Dows?"
"I say I'd like to hunt, what do you say, Beetle?"
"Okay, what do you think, John?" Beetle was the youngest, named for his tendency to curl up into a little ball like a small insect when he was frightened. He hadn't quite gotten his feet under him yet, and fell often enough to be a spectacle amongst the lost boys. Of course, with the furs that they wore, when they fell, they rolled.
"Beetle, I've already answered," replied John. "Let's go, then. What shall we hunt today, Daisy?"
"I dunno, what do you think, Tobby?"
"I dunno, what do you think, Dows?"
"I dunno, what do you think, Beetle?"
"I dunno, whaddya think, John?"
John sighed.
They set off to hunt something, although no one knew quite what they would hunt.
* * * * *
Smee had spent years for this moment. He only had a vague memory of Peter Pan, but he knew that he had a friend and brother before Pan killed him. Now, the only man who James Hook feared, the Irish bo'sun, the man who killed without offense, was back for revenge on Pan. Revenge on Pan, and those foolish lost boys who had killed his compatriots. Tootles, Curly, Nibs, Slightly, and those Twins. It would be harder this time, because they had a mother. But he was the only man Hook had feared! Hook was the only man who the sea-cook had feared! What did he, Smee, have to fear from a little boy?
Little did Smee, foolish Smee, know that all those lost boys had long since grown up, adopted by the Darlings and brought up by Wendy. They had long since died, of various commonplace diseases and other ailments. They had forgotten, stopped believing in his very existence, long before that. If Smee had known, he would probably have been marginally insulted that he did not leave any impression on a boy. But Smee didn't know. Nor did he know that the new group of lost boys, the group he was approaching now was completely different. What would he have done if he had found out? We will never know.
* * * * *
On the mainland, there was a knock at Katie's grandmother Margaret's door. She had grown weaker overnight, and her legs shook as she stumbled to the door, to open it. It was Katie's mother, Mrs. Wishcourt. Sue ran up to her mother, pushing Margaret aside. Margaret stumbled, grabbing the wall, before slowly progressing to the door. Sue was talking to her mother.
"Mother, mother, Katie's ran away!"
"Flew," corrected Margaret.
"Flew? That's impossible," replied Mrs. Wishcourt. "No one can fly!"
"Katie can," insisted grandmother Margaret
"Is this another or your silly stories about Peter Pan and the Neverland?"
"They're not silly stories. Katie flew away to the Neverland with Peter Pan."
"If they're true, then why haven't I seen the boy? What happened to my trips to the Neverland?"
"He forgot. Peter does have a terrible memory," sighed grandmother Margaret. She sounded quite fond of the fact that he tended to forget everything and anything.
Mrs. Wishcourt's shock and anger was clear from her face. She could take no more of this nonsense. "What have you done with my daughter, mother? Where is she?"
"She's in the Neverland, mother!" said Sue. Sue didn't know why her mother hadn't believed her grandmother. After all, it was true, wasn't it?
Mrs. Wishcourt glared at her daughter, and looked almost ready to smack her. "You stop repeating those filthy lies! What have I brought you up for, if you just reject all common sense and take on these stupid stories?" Sue looked dejected. But then again, should she be, really? After all, she had a chance to show her sister that she would regret flying off like that and abandoning her little sister.
"Susan is telling the truth. Katherine is in the Neverland, with Peter."
"Mother, don't play with me. I know those stories aren't true. What happened to my daughter?"
Grandmother Margaret sighed. "Why would I lie to you about something like that, dear? I don't just make such things up."
"Yes you do, you have since I was a little girl! You've always been lying to me! I know about Peter Pan, you told me those same stories when I was a child. Stories, mother. That's all they are, stories. If you go around, polluting my children's brains with such arrant nonsense, expecting them to believe that, and then maintaining that my oldest daughter has run away to the Neverland, you do not know me."
"I only tell you what I know. I saw Peter last night, and so did Sue."
Sue glared at her grandmother. Now was her chance to make them all forget Katie, get revenge on the supreme injury of getting something that Sue could not have. It was her fault that Sue was not in the Neverland with Katie. Her and Katie's fault, and now Sue could get revenge on them both. She should be in the Neverland. After all, in hindsight, that Peter boy was rather cute. "You're lying."
Grandmother Margaret could only stare at her granddaughter, shocked. They say that once you have been betrayed once you never feel the same way again, and for the most part this is true. Margaret had become used to treachery and deception in her life, but this was another matter. Right then, when she saw her grandchild stare at her with such hatred, and openly lie about her, she felt that pang of injury just as if it were the first. Her daughter was talking.
"Mother, what really happened?"
Margaret could do nothing. She felt her lungs constricting. Her legs weakened, and she thought she would fall to the floor. Her daughter caught her.
"What really happened last night?"
Margaret couldn't believe it. This was supposedly her daughter. This awful woman, who continued to ask about something that may or may not have happened last night when her mother was dying. "Get me to a hospital, damn it! I'm dying, can't you tell!" She yelled, at the top of her voice, but it only came out a whisper.
Margaret lost consciousness as she was taken to the hospital in her daughter's car.
* * * * *
The window to the apartment remained open, ready for Katie when she should come home. After all, all the Darlings came home soon, didn't they? No one was alive who could remember precisely. But the window was open despite any of that, and now there was no one to close it. Katie would have a place to come back to, when she came back.
The door was unlocked, open, waiting for friendly neighbors to politely close it, or for unfriendly neighbors to come in and do what they would. No one cared anymore. All those who would have cared were gone. The entry hall was alight, and there were no signs of anyone leaving, not even a hasty retreat to another part of town. In the kitchen, a kettle of water put to heat boiled, and whistled, wanting to be turned off. No one came. The milk and cereal were standing by for a breakfast to be put away, dirty dishes waiting to be washed.
In the bedroom, where remained the open window, the drapes blew haphazardly in the breeze, and threatened to pull away from the room itself. Anything light enough to be lighted by the wind in the room was, and a torrent of papers flew around and around before settling temporarily to the floor, to the music of the shrieking teakettle. A fine, sparkling dust filtered through the air, settling on the floor to be sucked up by a vacuum cleaner, or picked up on a dust-rag. And one sleeping bag remained in the room, a navy-blue reminder of the girl who had left, a lonely bag, without its pink companion, and devoid of its customary human habitation. The noise got louder.
The dust settled on the sleeping bag, and it floated like one of the papers, into the air, catching in the breeze. It whipped around the room, knocking over several objects before flying out the window and racing out, on the wind, to some other part of town, ripping the curtains with it and taking them away too. Several people on the street remarked on it, but then stopped paying any attention to it. Inside, the kettle continued to shriek.
* * * * *
No one knew how the fire started, but it burned down most of the building before it was finally quenched. There were some rumors of a stove left on, but who would be stupid enough to leave their stove on when they left the house? All the tenants could do was curse their luck and look for housing nearby. At least the building didn't fall down, that would have rendered a larger area uninhabitable.
And remaining, in the burnt-out shell of the top floor where Grandmother Margaret used to live, was a gaping hole of what once was an open window, suitable to match the rest of the building, and a fine dust, left to be blown away in the breeze, mixed with ashes, and forgotten.