Chapter 3: Expectations
~~Good news, boys! I have brought, at last, a mother for you all. ~~
The Neverland was finally awake, and ready for Peter. The lost boys were all out hunting, having joined the Indians, and were having a rollicking good time. Knowing that, at last, it was ready for Peter, the Island began to search the boy out.
Peter and Katie were enjoying themselves, having just found and killed a boatful of pirates on the high seas, and they were laughing and reliving the adventure. Xanthippe was, as always, flying on ahead and lighting the ocean surface for them. "Did you see the look on the poor captain's face when we landed?" Katie asked, laughing.
Peter could only laugh and crow with joy, and he flew even faster than before. Katie put on a burst of speed to catch up to him, but was unable to for the first time. Peter quite forgot about his new friend and flew off, to the Neverland. Xanthippe, remembering the girl, stayed behind and led her to the island.
Peter reached the Neverland, and found the lost boys, now at a huge feast with the Indians. He walked in on it, and nodded to Tiger Lily. "Hullo, Tiger Lily!"
"Hullo, Peter Pan!"
"Where are my lost boys?"
"Over there," she pointed out the boys, happily munching the meat beneath poorly applied Indian face paint.
"Boys, come here!" Peter yelled, with a very commanding tone. The boys quickly dropped the meat and approached Peter.
"What is it?" asked John.
"Good news, boys! I have brought, again, a mother for you all!"
"A mother, a mother!" yelled Dows.
"Wonderful! At last, a mother!" added Tobby.
John only smiled, but foolish Beetle asked, "What's a mother?"
"A mother is a lady, to darn clothes, and make pockets, and tell stories, and look after us all!" replied Peter.
"What kind of stories?"
"Oh, all kinds of stories, Beetle! Just wait and see!"
And the lost boys began to frolic, just waiting to see their new mother. They ran around the campfire, quite disturbing the Indians, and finally were thrown out. Then they flew off to their home in the trees, and started running around there, until Peter stopped them.
"Stop! We've got to make the house neat for our new mother! First impressions are very important, you know!" he shouted. At once, the boys set to work cleaning up the house and making it and themselves neat. Peter stood outside, making sure they were all working still.
It was only then, that he realized he had forgotten the most important part, the mother. He flew off, leaving the lost boys to clean up and searching for their mother.
* * * * *
He came across Katie, flying behind Xanthippe, and just outside of the Neverland. Of course, he recognized Xanthippe, but not Katie. "Hullo, Zan! Who's that?" He asked.
"Peter! It's me, Katie, don't you remember?" asked Katie in response, shocked.
"Katie?" Peter was quite confused. Then he remembered. "Oh! I'm quite sorry about forgetting, just keep telling me who you are, and I'll get it eventually. C'mon then, Zan, Katie! We're almost to the Neverland!"
When Katie reached the house in the trees, she was shocked at how well kept it looked. After all, when Peter tells the lost boys to clean, they clean. She entered, and saw the lost boys, and was charmed. She sat down on one of the little chairs, and looked around.
"Are you a mother?" asked Beetle.
Katie smiled, but blushed at the little boy's question. "I don't quite know, I don't know if I have what it takes to be a mother to so many," she replied. After all, there were quite a few boys, and in the small house it appeared an even larger number than there really were.
"Oh, don't worry!" answered John. "We just want a nice, motherly-like person!"
Katie wasn't sure if this was much better, but she knew enough to answer correctly. "Well then, I think I shall do quite well!"
"Do you know stories?" asked Tobby.
"Oh, lots!" replied Katie.
"Like Cinderella?"
Katie nodded. "Certainly. I know such lots of stories, my grandmother was always telling me stories."
"Peter always tells us the beginning, but he can never remember the end! He always stops when the poor little girl is running out of the ball, and loses her glass slipper!"
"Oh, well, I do believe we have just enough time for the end of Cinderella before it's time for bed," said Katie, noticing out of a window that the sun was indeed setting. "Let me just tell it to you, and then you can all have a good night's rest." After all, if she was a mother, wasn't this what mothers were supposed to do? She supposed it would be like babysitting, and she'd done that enough before.
And so, she told the lost boys Cinderella, and they all loyally and dutifully went to bed and fell asleep, enamored of their new mother and quite pleased with the ending to the story. Peter was proud of his new mother, and soon fell asleep with the lost boys too.
Now, Peter was prone to having horrible, awful nightmares, and always before, when there had been a mother in the house, she would comfort him and protect him from those dreams. That night, he had an especially awful one. Katie, who had fallen asleep in her little chair, awoke to see Peter trembling and crying in his sleep from the fear of the nightmare. She walked over to him, and reached out to touch him. She couldn't bear to see Peter crying out.
Soon enough, he was cradled in her arms and comforted, just like he had been cradled in Wendy's arms, Jane's arms, and Margaret's arms. At that moment, Katie looked quite the little mother, in her little house with Peter and the lost boys.
* * * * *
Peter was flying around, high in the sky, amongst the stars, just like he always did. He was with Wendy, or Jane, or Margaret, or this new one, Katie. He couldn't really tell. Whoever he was with, she was flying about, blowing out stars.
He had never been able to blow out stars, and whoever this was, was having no trouble at all. He tried, sneaking up behind the star, and one, two, three, blow!
But the star woke up and turned around and started scolding him so loud that he was sure the rest of the world could hear. The girl, whoever it was, turned around, and saw him being scolded by the star, and started to laugh at him.
In a wave of utter despondency, Peter lost his happy thought.
It had always just been there before, but now it was gone. What had it been? Where did it go? What would happen? With that final thought, he fell.
Peter didn't realize he was falling right then, he was too preoccupied with finding his happy thought. This couldn't be good. You aren't supposed to lose things like happy thoughts. But soon he realized that happy thoughts were more important than most other thoughts. Those happy thoughts were keeping him in the air.
Now his search was frantic, but he was still falling. And old enemies, long forgotten and horribly real enemies came to mind, jeering at him and pointing and laughing. "Look at the boy who never grew up now!" they seemed to say. "Look at him now, the pathetic thing has lost his happy thought, he can't fly."
And one face swarmed up against him larger than before, a face with black moustache and sinister eyes. The figure pulled at the moustache with his hand, only where his hand should have been, there was a hook instead. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Sneaking up behind a star and trying to blow it out, were we? Bad form, Peter, bad form!"
Of course, Peter had no idea what form was, much less the ability to differentiate between good and bad form, but he could tell that whatever Hook was saying, it wasn't a good thing. He gulped, his happy thought farther from reach than ever, and he fell like a stone into oblivion.
Then, through the darkness, and the falling, and the should-be-dead enemies, came hands. Hands that grabbed him by the arms and didn't let him fall, hands that supported him and saved him from this eternal torture. The faces died away, and his happy thought came back. Now it felt so natural he couldn't believe he had ever misplaced it. He was once again flying mid air, with that girl, saying funny things to the stars.
At once, he forgot his fears. He had never fallen, never forgotten that thought. He had always been the boy who would never grow up, cocky, proud, but wonderful and superbly clever.
* * * * *
A dark shape entered the lagoon that night. A dark, brooding shape with a single green light hanging from the edge appeared. A horrible, deep chorus sang out, to all the island,
A-pirating we go
And if we're parted by a shot
We're sure to meet below!
Yo ho, Yo ho, the pirate life
The flag O' skull and bones!
A merry hour, a hempen rope,
And hey for Davy Jones!
Avast belay, when I appear
By fear they're overtook
Naught's left upon the bones when you
Have shaken claws with Hook.
Yo ho, Yo ho, the frisky plank
You walks along it so,
Till it goes down and you goes down
To Davy Jones below!
Yo ho, Yo ho, the scratching cat,
It's got nine tails, you know!
And when they're writ upon your back, --
But no more of that, let it suffice to say that they were singing a horrible song. Smee stood at the prow of the pirate ship, the light of the lamp glinting on the waters. He had reached his destination. He was here, the Neverland. And soon, he would get revenge on those foolish little boys who dared to cross the one man who James Hook had feared.
* * * * *
"I'm sorry," said the doctor. "We did all we could to help her, but in the end there was nothing we could do."
Sue gulped down the tears. Mrs. Wishcourt grimly nodded and shook hands with the doctor.
The funeral was simple, they hadn't been religious people, but they needed support at this time. The entire family, save Katie, showed up at the reception and the burial, which was preformed in such a proper way that old Mr. Darling, had he been alive, would have been proud. And Sue put on a proper head of grieving, although she was really secretly jealous of her grandmother for having flown off to the Neverland when she was a child.
But no one had to know that, right? Sue put on quite a good face of mourning and sadness, and everyone could tell that she was moved by the death of her grandmother.
Not to say that she wasn't. I don't want to paint Sue as some horrible, inhuman little girl, as after all, she was still a little girl, and little girls really do love their grandmothers deeply. Sue would mourn, mourn really and mourn well. But for now, her jealousy was her only emotion. After all, Sue was quite small and single-minded, and when someone is small and single-minded, they can only have one emotion at a time. Not to say that they couldn't have any emotion, just never a mixture. Sue was quite like a fairy in some ways, and this was one.
Mrs. Wishcourt never left the window open after that. Never even unlocked. She had lost her first daughter, and would not lose her second. She never found out what really happened on that night, which is probably appropriate, because after all, she wouldn't have believed us had we come up to her and told her straight out. So the windows will remain shut, unfortunately.
Author's Note: Well, that's it for chapter 3, hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to the golden muses, lupe silverwing (who has reviewed both chapters, thanks so much, lupe!) and stargazer. I know this one is shorter than the last two, but don't worry, the plot is basically all set up now and we can only get longer. By the way, I only just realized that I forgot my disclaimer at the top of the story. Oops. I do not own Peter Pan, Wendy, Jane, Margaret, The Neverland, Tiger Lily, Smee, Starkey, well, you get my point. This story is based on situations, characters, and settings owned by J.M. Barrie or his rightful descendant, or whoever owns Peter Pan. I am not making any money from this story, nor do I ever plan to make any money from this story. It is merely fun and games, writing about the characters I have grown to know and love through a classic book. Thankyou.
P.S. Oh, and if you've read and haven't reviewed, press that little button below and make my day! Authors always love to hear what readers think, or else why would we post something on line?