AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is picking up where Kimberly Appelcine's "The
First Kiss" fanfic leaves somewhere halfway
through the epilogue. Kimberly's story, in turn, is a continuation of P.J.
Hogan's movie Peter Pan, which is of course a version of J.M. Barrie's
novel Peter Pan, which is in itself a sequel (of sorts) to Peter Pan in
Kensington Gardens (also by Barrie Confused yet? ;-)
Here's the much-anticipated Chapter II. All comments are welcomed! I can handle constructive criticism. Enjoy! ;-)
II. NEVER A HAPPIER, SIMPLER FAMILY
Now, I would put a wager to anyone who could ever guess that Mrs. Wendy Pan was the proud mother of three small children. She scarcely looked a day over 18 at all times. Some whispered that she simply must have inherited her own mother's flawless graces. Yet other more envious little beasts whispered that her good doctor's "tonics" contained a hammer and chisel.
But never had the woman looked quite as lovely as she did the days in which she gave birth to her babies. This day was to be no exception. Her grinning husband could barely make out where their newborn must have been hiding underneath his wife's miles and miles of auburn hair. He heard no crying, so he took great pains to be as stealthy as he could manage as he crept into the bedroom, lest he wake a sleeping child.
The Little Mother hadn't even realized her husband was in the room until she felt his strong arm drape itself around her shoulders. No words were exchanged between them. There needn't have been anyway. Indeed, the only sounds in that room at that moment were the hushed sighs of contentment as the happy couple gazed upon the brand new face of this brand new little person, and what delight they must have felt being the very first ones to do so!
Wendy could feel her husband growing restless at once as he sat at the edge of the bed next to her. He had a certain way of squirming, of discreetly shifting his hips from side to side, that she instantly recognized to mean that he was absolutely itching to get after something. What that something was at this moment is wholly obvious! So, she gathered up the blankets around her new baby and softly passed him into the arms of his beaming father.
If he had been having any doubts about his long-ago decision to remain with Wendy forever, a quick glance into the eyes of his first son erased them but permanently. It was all such a miracle! He could remember the first time Wendy announced she was expecting, six years ago. He remembered not really understanding what that meant or how it could happen, for he was still quite ignorant on the subject of mothers and fathers. Having had it explained to him, he thought it extraordinary, and marveled at the prospect of having children of his own when he himself had been one for so very long. I cannot lie to you and say he was not afraid. Of course he must have been! Wendy had to often explain to him that these children were not the Lost Boys - he could not "discipline" them in the same fashion. Nor could he allow the children to run amok as he had the Lost Boys. This paradox was what frightened him, and he was deathly afraid of not being a proper father. But Wendy told him that he needn't worry.
The girls were born on the same day. This fascinated Peter to no end. He had thought that The Twins, a part of his merry band in Neverland, were an anomaly, a magical feat existing only in their fantastical realm. Indeed, he soon came to learn that this was surely one of nature's great wonders, but one that does happen every so often nonetheless.
But the greatest thrill he realized upon having children is that he could vicariously relive his own extended and now abandoned youth through them. In the first years since leaving the Neverland behind and experiencing married life with Wendy, he had been exclusively kept in the Man's World. There was hardly an opportunity to run, prance, or roughhouse anymore as he used to. Oh, Wendy was able to indulge in some of these activities with him in her own way - she is still a lady, you know! - and sometimes his old chums the Lost Boys (and even John and Michael Darling) would oblige him, but mostly everyone was too busy going about their daily business to be caught up in such revelries. So, it was with great relief that there were now children in their lives, and he could once again run, prance, and roughhouse to his and his daughters' heart's content.
But to have a boy.Peter Pan's own little boy! This was something more entirely.
At the earliest opportunity she could find to do so, the children's nursemaid Violet dispatched a hasty wire to Wendy's parents in Bloomsbury to tell them of the wonderful news. In no time at all, Mr. And Mrs. Darling were at their daughter's bedside - as were Wendy's brothers, John, Michael, Slightly, Nibs, Tootles, Curly, and the Twins - to share in the celebration of the newest member of the Pan Clan (as Peter had so gaily christened it). I daresay there was never a more spirited sight!
Not until three whole days later did the happy couple finally decide on a name for the boy. Mr. Darling had thoroughly insisted that the boy, being the first, should be named George after himself, just as he had named John after his own father. Peter and Wendy gave a hearty agreement in the presence of the family, but once doors were closed, they all but snickered at the request. Wendy did not care for the name, and though Peter found the whole tradition fetching, he rather thought his boy, being so unique, should have a unique name of his own.
I probably ought to take the time and mention here that Wendy had taken it upon herself some time ago to do a bit of covert research into her dear husband's life prior to his arriving in Neverland. It was quite a tasking feat, but after several months of secretive labor, she was able to discover exactly who her Peter was, before he had become Peter Pan.
Her greatest lead was sifting through piles and piles of records for missing children in the London area. She disregarded the solved cases and concentrated on the unsolved ones. With a reasonable amount of educational deduction and a dash of women's intuition, Wendy was able to piece together the lost and forgotten fragments of Peter's past. His father had been named Anthony, a little-known writer who made his living primarily from composing memorable limericks and catchphrases for everyday products to be placed in British newspapers and other publications around the country. It amused his daughter-in-law to learn that he had been the one to come up with a certain couplet for a popular bath soap that was sung ad nauseum in the Darling bathroom by her mother years ago. How did it go again? Wendy could not recall. She would have to ask Michael when next she saw him, as he always had a way of remembering such frivolities.
Peter's own mother was called Abigail. She had been an actress at the time of her marriage, but her stage credits appeared to dwindle considerably around the time of Peter's birth, and did not pick up again until some years later. Peter had been her first child, but not the last. Not terribly long after Peter's disappearance ('twas rather not long enough, in Wendy's opinion), Anthony and Abigail had another son, thereby sealing their conviction that their firstborn would never be found and never return.
For all Wendy could determine, Peter's brother was still alive. He had left England in manhood for America to find wealth. Heavens knows what had become of him. It mattered none, really, for Wendy knew there was not a chance Peter would ever have the desire to reunite with the boy who took his place. So she never shared this finding with him.
All these revelations seemed perfectly quaint in their appearance, but the one piece of information that Wendy absolutely marveled at was Peter's *real* age - that is, how old he might be now if he had never ceased to grow all those many years in Neverland. From what Wendy could calculate, her darling husband should have been well into his eighties now! Wendy rather felt the Fates had been working on her side, to keep Peter young until the day when Wendy was born and grown enough for him to find her, and they could be together forever. And this the way it was always meant to be. Such thoughts sent small, happy shivers down Wendy's spine.
In any event, the crucial day when Wendy and Peter sat down with their baby boy to come up with a proper name, Wendy very slyly suggested 'Anthony'. Peter pondered but a moment, then he decided it was a right smashing name. He had never heard such a name before, but it rolled off the tongue pleasantly, and so the boy was christened, Anthony Pan, after Peter's own long forgotten father.
Here's the much-anticipated Chapter II. All comments are welcomed! I can handle constructive criticism. Enjoy! ;-)
II. NEVER A HAPPIER, SIMPLER FAMILY
Now, I would put a wager to anyone who could ever guess that Mrs. Wendy Pan was the proud mother of three small children. She scarcely looked a day over 18 at all times. Some whispered that she simply must have inherited her own mother's flawless graces. Yet other more envious little beasts whispered that her good doctor's "tonics" contained a hammer and chisel.
But never had the woman looked quite as lovely as she did the days in which she gave birth to her babies. This day was to be no exception. Her grinning husband could barely make out where their newborn must have been hiding underneath his wife's miles and miles of auburn hair. He heard no crying, so he took great pains to be as stealthy as he could manage as he crept into the bedroom, lest he wake a sleeping child.
The Little Mother hadn't even realized her husband was in the room until she felt his strong arm drape itself around her shoulders. No words were exchanged between them. There needn't have been anyway. Indeed, the only sounds in that room at that moment were the hushed sighs of contentment as the happy couple gazed upon the brand new face of this brand new little person, and what delight they must have felt being the very first ones to do so!
Wendy could feel her husband growing restless at once as he sat at the edge of the bed next to her. He had a certain way of squirming, of discreetly shifting his hips from side to side, that she instantly recognized to mean that he was absolutely itching to get after something. What that something was at this moment is wholly obvious! So, she gathered up the blankets around her new baby and softly passed him into the arms of his beaming father.
If he had been having any doubts about his long-ago decision to remain with Wendy forever, a quick glance into the eyes of his first son erased them but permanently. It was all such a miracle! He could remember the first time Wendy announced she was expecting, six years ago. He remembered not really understanding what that meant or how it could happen, for he was still quite ignorant on the subject of mothers and fathers. Having had it explained to him, he thought it extraordinary, and marveled at the prospect of having children of his own when he himself had been one for so very long. I cannot lie to you and say he was not afraid. Of course he must have been! Wendy had to often explain to him that these children were not the Lost Boys - he could not "discipline" them in the same fashion. Nor could he allow the children to run amok as he had the Lost Boys. This paradox was what frightened him, and he was deathly afraid of not being a proper father. But Wendy told him that he needn't worry.
The girls were born on the same day. This fascinated Peter to no end. He had thought that The Twins, a part of his merry band in Neverland, were an anomaly, a magical feat existing only in their fantastical realm. Indeed, he soon came to learn that this was surely one of nature's great wonders, but one that does happen every so often nonetheless.
But the greatest thrill he realized upon having children is that he could vicariously relive his own extended and now abandoned youth through them. In the first years since leaving the Neverland behind and experiencing married life with Wendy, he had been exclusively kept in the Man's World. There was hardly an opportunity to run, prance, or roughhouse anymore as he used to. Oh, Wendy was able to indulge in some of these activities with him in her own way - she is still a lady, you know! - and sometimes his old chums the Lost Boys (and even John and Michael Darling) would oblige him, but mostly everyone was too busy going about their daily business to be caught up in such revelries. So, it was with great relief that there were now children in their lives, and he could once again run, prance, and roughhouse to his and his daughters' heart's content.
But to have a boy.Peter Pan's own little boy! This was something more entirely.
At the earliest opportunity she could find to do so, the children's nursemaid Violet dispatched a hasty wire to Wendy's parents in Bloomsbury to tell them of the wonderful news. In no time at all, Mr. And Mrs. Darling were at their daughter's bedside - as were Wendy's brothers, John, Michael, Slightly, Nibs, Tootles, Curly, and the Twins - to share in the celebration of the newest member of the Pan Clan (as Peter had so gaily christened it). I daresay there was never a more spirited sight!
Not until three whole days later did the happy couple finally decide on a name for the boy. Mr. Darling had thoroughly insisted that the boy, being the first, should be named George after himself, just as he had named John after his own father. Peter and Wendy gave a hearty agreement in the presence of the family, but once doors were closed, they all but snickered at the request. Wendy did not care for the name, and though Peter found the whole tradition fetching, he rather thought his boy, being so unique, should have a unique name of his own.
I probably ought to take the time and mention here that Wendy had taken it upon herself some time ago to do a bit of covert research into her dear husband's life prior to his arriving in Neverland. It was quite a tasking feat, but after several months of secretive labor, she was able to discover exactly who her Peter was, before he had become Peter Pan.
Her greatest lead was sifting through piles and piles of records for missing children in the London area. She disregarded the solved cases and concentrated on the unsolved ones. With a reasonable amount of educational deduction and a dash of women's intuition, Wendy was able to piece together the lost and forgotten fragments of Peter's past. His father had been named Anthony, a little-known writer who made his living primarily from composing memorable limericks and catchphrases for everyday products to be placed in British newspapers and other publications around the country. It amused his daughter-in-law to learn that he had been the one to come up with a certain couplet for a popular bath soap that was sung ad nauseum in the Darling bathroom by her mother years ago. How did it go again? Wendy could not recall. She would have to ask Michael when next she saw him, as he always had a way of remembering such frivolities.
Peter's own mother was called Abigail. She had been an actress at the time of her marriage, but her stage credits appeared to dwindle considerably around the time of Peter's birth, and did not pick up again until some years later. Peter had been her first child, but not the last. Not terribly long after Peter's disappearance ('twas rather not long enough, in Wendy's opinion), Anthony and Abigail had another son, thereby sealing their conviction that their firstborn would never be found and never return.
For all Wendy could determine, Peter's brother was still alive. He had left England in manhood for America to find wealth. Heavens knows what had become of him. It mattered none, really, for Wendy knew there was not a chance Peter would ever have the desire to reunite with the boy who took his place. So she never shared this finding with him.
All these revelations seemed perfectly quaint in their appearance, but the one piece of information that Wendy absolutely marveled at was Peter's *real* age - that is, how old he might be now if he had never ceased to grow all those many years in Neverland. From what Wendy could calculate, her darling husband should have been well into his eighties now! Wendy rather felt the Fates had been working on her side, to keep Peter young until the day when Wendy was born and grown enough for him to find her, and they could be together forever. And this the way it was always meant to be. Such thoughts sent small, happy shivers down Wendy's spine.
In any event, the crucial day when Wendy and Peter sat down with their baby boy to come up with a proper name, Wendy very slyly suggested 'Anthony'. Peter pondered but a moment, then he decided it was a right smashing name. He had never heard such a name before, but it rolled off the tongue pleasantly, and so the boy was christened, Anthony Pan, after Peter's own long forgotten father.