AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is picking up where Kimberly Appelcline's "The
First Kiss" fanfic leaves off (you can find the fic on this very site),
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 - which can be read at
gutenberg.net). Confused yet?
WOW, I got some rather unexpected reactions from that last chapter! Not BAD, just......unexpected. So, hopefully, the following will ease some minds. ;- ) Here's Chapter IV – Get comfy, cuz this one's kinda long! And keep the comments coming! Enjoy!
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IV. THE CYCLE
A gentle serenity fell upon Kensington Gardens as twilight shimmered over London. One could scarcely imagine the monstrosities that had wreaked such havoc on the beautiful little park but just a few hours before. The wild flowers swayed softly in the breeze, the mallards and swans swam peacefully in the Serpentine, and sweet little Anthony Pan lie still upon the soft grass.
As a light draft tickled his chubby cheeks, Anthony shifted slightly and continued his unmarred slumber, imagining he was but anywhere else than in the middle of Kensington Gardens well after Lock-Out Time. He dreamt of his mother peering in through the nursery door to make sure he was still there and not trying to fly out the window again. And he dreamt of so many other queer things as well, not the least of which were many tiny voices bouncing about his head, like little bells. They began as almost a whisper, but now he was able to make out here and there what they were saying:
"Oh, no, no, this shan't do at all."
"What is it, do you suppose?"
"Isn't it obvious, silly? 'Tis another human child sent back to the birds by its mother."
"What an ungrateful beast!"
"What shall we do with it?"
"Throw it into the Serpentine, I suppose. We have no use for it here."
"No, we mustn't! It is such a small and helpless creature."
"Well, then what does one do with a human? Does anyone remember?"
"Oh! Oh! I have an idea!"
"Pray tell."
"We must take the child to back to Bird Island!
"Yes, yes, to see...."
"Shh! It wakens!"
The anxious chattering had aroused Anthony's senses into consciousness, and very slowly did his lids part so that his eyes might take in the most curious of sights he had yet seen in his young life. Skipping all about him were a myriad of lights, and within those lights he could just discern the figures of what appeared to be very tiny people. It was a glorious spectacle indeed! So glorious, in fact, he assumed he must still be dreaming. But a swift pinch on the nose from a younger little light-person soon washed those illusions away. It was real – and it was marvelous!
"How do you do?" Anthony greeted almost breathlessly.
The little light-people gasped and huddled together upon hearing the creature speak.
"I am sorry, I don't mean to frighten you," Anthony continued, lowering his timbre. "But may I ask, who – or what – are you?"
"Erm, well," one of the little men began, breaking slightly from the huddle, "We are what you and your species, I think, refer to as 'The Fairies'."
"Fairies!" Anthony exclaimed in delight, thus sending the little ones back into their terrified clump. He caught himself. "I am sorry again. It's just, you see, I have never met a real fairy before, and it is most fascinating!"
"You do not mean to do us any harm, do you, Human?" asked one of the braver ladies, sheltering her trembling child in her arms.
"Not at all, Ma'am! I promise!" And Anthony did.
An older male fairy stepped forward. He exuded an air of authority, though Anthony knew not if it was founded. "Well, the creature seems genuine enough. I think we ought to get him to Bird Island straight away so that Xavier Caw may appraise him."
The other fairies agreed, though they were hard-pressed to break from their huddle and do anything about the matter. You mustn't think this was because they were still afraid. No, in fact, it is just that they hardly knew what exactly to do at all! They stood around in quite a state of befuddlement for what seemed like an eternity until at last one of the craftier fairies pointed due west and shouted:
"Look there! That may be our answer!"
They all turned to find what remained of Anthony's perambulator, now laying some ten yards away in no less than a thousand pieces – the only tell-tale sign that anything remotely unusual had taken place in the park that afternoon.
"Why, is it nothing but rubbish," the authoritative fairy declared.
"Quite the contrary, sir," the crafty fairy replied. "All we need is some sticks, some grass, and some tree sap to hold it together, and we can make it into a boat in which to transport the Human to Bird Island!"
A huge cheer went up among the little sprites, and Anthony himself could not help but clap, though he knew not exactly why. He couldn't imagine what could be on this Bird Island that would be of any importance to him. In no time at all, the fairies dispersed and went about their individual duties; collecting twigs, picking leaves and blades of grass, and extracting tree sap. They buzzed all around the messy pile of broken pram, and right before Anthony's very eyes, a most splendid and practical little boat sprang up from the rubble.
Once completed, the fairies enticed the little boy to try it out, to test for sturdiness and what not. He warily placed one tiny foot inside, threw a cautious glance to the fairies, and then stepped in with his other foot. It was quite stable indeed, and he, being so small to begin with, barely made a creak.
Again, the fairies cheered. Anthony stepped out of the makeshift boat momentarily so that the he and the fairies could transport it to the Serpentine. Fortunately, it was not far off. Anthony had landed in the grass on the east side of the Gardens, near the old dog cemetery – quite a distance from where he had first been carried off! But this made no difference to him, for he had yet no real concept of distances, as young as he was.
At last, the curious convoy reached the edge of the Serpentine and cast off the Human inside the boat, heading due south towards the small and somewhat foreboding little island within. For the first time, Anthony found himself a touch afraid. Anything at all could be awaiting him there. So, he braced himself for whatever may come.
When the little boat finally made its gentle landfall, the last speck of sunlight had finally dwindled from the sky. Anthony rather wished the fairies were still with him, if for no other reason than to provide a suitable light source, for the island was exceedingly dark. And Anthony did not care for the dark, as most young ones do not.
But before he could get truly panicked, he was soon approached upon by a small group of crows. They looked at him oddly, just as the fairies had, and in the same vein seemed to not quite know what to do with him. They whispered to each other back and forth for a few moments, then one winked to another, and then all of them flew to the boy.
"Come now," one crow demanded, "you must go see Xavier Caw."
"I should love to," Anthony complied. "How shall I get to him?"
The crows exchanged an amused glance, and some eyes were rolled. They looked back to Anthony. "Well, you will fly, naturally!"
"Fly?" Anthony asked. "But I don't suppose I can do that."
The birds exchanged another look, this one of a more puzzled nature. "You mean to say you cannot FLY?"
"So many times have a tried, but alas, I have not been successful yet."
A crow shook his head. "Has your mother weighed you, Little One?"
Anthony thought about it. It seemed a reasonable deduction. "Yes, I imagine she has."
The crows threw up their wings in a raucous. Anthony couldn't understand why this revelation should put them in such a state, but before he had a chance to ask, the crows surrounded him and grabbed hold of his tam o'shanters with their beaks. And with almost no effort at all were they able to lift the boy into the air and carry him into the depths of the island's forest. They took him quite deep indeed – Anthony was surprised to realize how big the island really was, but then all things look so much smaller when you are standing at a distance from them.
Finally, they came upon what was a most decidedly conspicuous tree standing tall and intimidating among the brush. I say it was conspicuous because it did not match any other tree on the island, and furthermore, it had a wonderful glow emanating from every snag, notch, and hole. The crows led Anthony inside the biggest notch, relatively high up on the tree. The boy soon found that the lights came from thousands of glowworms slowly trudging around the interiors. He rather thought this an unnatural sight, for he would have imagined the birds would EAT the worms. But what he did not understand, silly boy, was that the very services the worms were presently providing was just what was keeping them from out of the bird's bellies! Clever creatures are glowworms.
The crows flew Anthony further up the trunk of the tree and into a chamber where other crows were sitting in attendance to a most impressive and regal looking bird. He stood erect and imposing before Anthony as his crow guides lowered him onto the floor. The wise old bird looked the boy over, and I must say, he seemed rather at a loss.
"What is this thing you bring me?" he asked the crows.
"Looks to be a Human of some kind, sir," came the reply.
The large bird's eyes widened. "You don't say!" He stepped forward. "Little One, tell me, what brings you to our den? And after Lock-Out Time no less!"
Anthony replied carefully. "I am not quite sure, sir, for I was tossed into the Gardens by a mighty wind, and then the fairies came and told me I must see Xavier Caw..."
"Why, that's me!" the bird cut in. "The fairies must have assumed you were a throw-back."
"A 'throw-back,' sir?"
"Yes. You see, child, sometimes when we send our thrushes to their expectant mothers, they are rather disappointed with what we have provided them, and they will cast the child back to the birds. 'Tis unfortunate, but to be sure, this has not happened in some time!"
The crows let out several loyal "Harrumphs."
"Oh, no, no," Anthony shook his head. "My mummy would not send me back. I assure you, 'twas a nasty storm that brought me here."
Xavier Caw made a miffed expression. "This is quite strange. What else would a Human be doing here?" Suddenly, he clapped his wings together. "My grandfather might know!"
Again, the crows nodded their support.
"Indeed, he is the last of us in all of Kensington Gardens to ever lay eyes upon a Human," one crow asserted.
"Come at once, Little One." Xavier Caw held out his wing to Anthony, and with one heave-ho lifted the boy several stories higher into the tree trunk into yet another, albeit smaller, chamber within the bark. There were not as many glowworms in here, and on the far wall of the little room was a little bed. Anthony believed it to look much like the little beds in his sisters' dollhouse. But there was no doll in the bed; nothing but an old and sickly looking bird, rather like an old and sickly version of Xavier Caw, scarcely able to flutter a single feather. And instead of crows, he had several finches attending to him.
"Grandfather," Xavier Caw said softly, "You must wake up and see this for yourself."
Slowly, the old bird opened its weary eyes. Once fixed and focused upon Anthony did they then become round as saucers. "Dear me...!"
"Little One, this is my grandfather, Old Solomon Caw," Xavier Caw announced.
Anthony gave a slight but respectful bow to the elder Caw.
"It has been so very long," Old Solomon Caw began, struggling to sit up in bed, "since last I laid eyes upon one of your ilk. What is your name, Boy?"
The child bit his lip. "Well, I have often heard my mother call me 'Anthony'. I do suppose that must be my name."
"And your father," the old bird pressed on, anxiously, "What does your Mother call him?"
Anthony thought some more. "Erm.....mostly, she calls him 'Love.'"
The thrushes began tittering.
"Do you not know his proper name, Anthony?" asked Solomon Caw. "What do his friends, his associates call him?"
Now, Anthony had to think hard. He tried to picture his father. All of a sudden, his hand, rather automatically, reached in under his shirt and pulled out the Stargazer Lily that Father had given to him earlier in the day. Anthony grasped it firmly, as if he could squeeze out the answer to his question from the petals. He thought back to his many visits to his father at Kensington Gardens, and what the other park workers would call him when they needed his attention to something. Oh, so simple a name too. What was it? It was just on the tip of his tongue. Could it be this? No. What about....? No, not that either. Wait! Is that it? Yes, it was:
"Pan."
Several hushed gasps came from some of the older finches, and even Old Solomon Caw himself was moved to an upright position.
"Pan......My little betwixt-and-between," he muttered. "Then it is true."
"Sir?" asked Anthony and Xavier Caw together.
"Child, you are to stay with us and learn the ways of the Birds and Fairies," Solomon Caw proclaimed, clumsily making his way out of bed. "I presume from how my grandson delivered you to me that your mother has weighed you and so you cannot fly."
"This is true, Sir." Anthony now felt ashamed of this.
Solomon Caw dismissed the notion. "'Tis of no matter. You will learn again soon enough."
The old bird then began shouting orders to the finches and Xavier Caw. He was rather invigorated now – a far sight than how Anthony had first seen him.
"But, dear sir, I do not understand..." Anthony stammered as Xavier Caw and several finches moved to carry him back out of the chamber. "What is to happen to me now?"
Old Solomon Caw smiled a most delicious and mischievous smile. "Anthony Pan, we have been waiting for you."
WOW, I got some rather unexpected reactions from that last chapter! Not BAD, just......unexpected. So, hopefully, the following will ease some minds. ;- ) Here's Chapter IV – Get comfy, cuz this one's kinda long! And keep the comments coming! Enjoy!
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IV. THE CYCLE
A gentle serenity fell upon Kensington Gardens as twilight shimmered over London. One could scarcely imagine the monstrosities that had wreaked such havoc on the beautiful little park but just a few hours before. The wild flowers swayed softly in the breeze, the mallards and swans swam peacefully in the Serpentine, and sweet little Anthony Pan lie still upon the soft grass.
As a light draft tickled his chubby cheeks, Anthony shifted slightly and continued his unmarred slumber, imagining he was but anywhere else than in the middle of Kensington Gardens well after Lock-Out Time. He dreamt of his mother peering in through the nursery door to make sure he was still there and not trying to fly out the window again. And he dreamt of so many other queer things as well, not the least of which were many tiny voices bouncing about his head, like little bells. They began as almost a whisper, but now he was able to make out here and there what they were saying:
"Oh, no, no, this shan't do at all."
"What is it, do you suppose?"
"Isn't it obvious, silly? 'Tis another human child sent back to the birds by its mother."
"What an ungrateful beast!"
"What shall we do with it?"
"Throw it into the Serpentine, I suppose. We have no use for it here."
"No, we mustn't! It is such a small and helpless creature."
"Well, then what does one do with a human? Does anyone remember?"
"Oh! Oh! I have an idea!"
"Pray tell."
"We must take the child to back to Bird Island!
"Yes, yes, to see...."
"Shh! It wakens!"
The anxious chattering had aroused Anthony's senses into consciousness, and very slowly did his lids part so that his eyes might take in the most curious of sights he had yet seen in his young life. Skipping all about him were a myriad of lights, and within those lights he could just discern the figures of what appeared to be very tiny people. It was a glorious spectacle indeed! So glorious, in fact, he assumed he must still be dreaming. But a swift pinch on the nose from a younger little light-person soon washed those illusions away. It was real – and it was marvelous!
"How do you do?" Anthony greeted almost breathlessly.
The little light-people gasped and huddled together upon hearing the creature speak.
"I am sorry, I don't mean to frighten you," Anthony continued, lowering his timbre. "But may I ask, who – or what – are you?"
"Erm, well," one of the little men began, breaking slightly from the huddle, "We are what you and your species, I think, refer to as 'The Fairies'."
"Fairies!" Anthony exclaimed in delight, thus sending the little ones back into their terrified clump. He caught himself. "I am sorry again. It's just, you see, I have never met a real fairy before, and it is most fascinating!"
"You do not mean to do us any harm, do you, Human?" asked one of the braver ladies, sheltering her trembling child in her arms.
"Not at all, Ma'am! I promise!" And Anthony did.
An older male fairy stepped forward. He exuded an air of authority, though Anthony knew not if it was founded. "Well, the creature seems genuine enough. I think we ought to get him to Bird Island straight away so that Xavier Caw may appraise him."
The other fairies agreed, though they were hard-pressed to break from their huddle and do anything about the matter. You mustn't think this was because they were still afraid. No, in fact, it is just that they hardly knew what exactly to do at all! They stood around in quite a state of befuddlement for what seemed like an eternity until at last one of the craftier fairies pointed due west and shouted:
"Look there! That may be our answer!"
They all turned to find what remained of Anthony's perambulator, now laying some ten yards away in no less than a thousand pieces – the only tell-tale sign that anything remotely unusual had taken place in the park that afternoon.
"Why, is it nothing but rubbish," the authoritative fairy declared.
"Quite the contrary, sir," the crafty fairy replied. "All we need is some sticks, some grass, and some tree sap to hold it together, and we can make it into a boat in which to transport the Human to Bird Island!"
A huge cheer went up among the little sprites, and Anthony himself could not help but clap, though he knew not exactly why. He couldn't imagine what could be on this Bird Island that would be of any importance to him. In no time at all, the fairies dispersed and went about their individual duties; collecting twigs, picking leaves and blades of grass, and extracting tree sap. They buzzed all around the messy pile of broken pram, and right before Anthony's very eyes, a most splendid and practical little boat sprang up from the rubble.
Once completed, the fairies enticed the little boy to try it out, to test for sturdiness and what not. He warily placed one tiny foot inside, threw a cautious glance to the fairies, and then stepped in with his other foot. It was quite stable indeed, and he, being so small to begin with, barely made a creak.
Again, the fairies cheered. Anthony stepped out of the makeshift boat momentarily so that the he and the fairies could transport it to the Serpentine. Fortunately, it was not far off. Anthony had landed in the grass on the east side of the Gardens, near the old dog cemetery – quite a distance from where he had first been carried off! But this made no difference to him, for he had yet no real concept of distances, as young as he was.
At last, the curious convoy reached the edge of the Serpentine and cast off the Human inside the boat, heading due south towards the small and somewhat foreboding little island within. For the first time, Anthony found himself a touch afraid. Anything at all could be awaiting him there. So, he braced himself for whatever may come.
When the little boat finally made its gentle landfall, the last speck of sunlight had finally dwindled from the sky. Anthony rather wished the fairies were still with him, if for no other reason than to provide a suitable light source, for the island was exceedingly dark. And Anthony did not care for the dark, as most young ones do not.
But before he could get truly panicked, he was soon approached upon by a small group of crows. They looked at him oddly, just as the fairies had, and in the same vein seemed to not quite know what to do with him. They whispered to each other back and forth for a few moments, then one winked to another, and then all of them flew to the boy.
"Come now," one crow demanded, "you must go see Xavier Caw."
"I should love to," Anthony complied. "How shall I get to him?"
The crows exchanged an amused glance, and some eyes were rolled. They looked back to Anthony. "Well, you will fly, naturally!"
"Fly?" Anthony asked. "But I don't suppose I can do that."
The birds exchanged another look, this one of a more puzzled nature. "You mean to say you cannot FLY?"
"So many times have a tried, but alas, I have not been successful yet."
A crow shook his head. "Has your mother weighed you, Little One?"
Anthony thought about it. It seemed a reasonable deduction. "Yes, I imagine she has."
The crows threw up their wings in a raucous. Anthony couldn't understand why this revelation should put them in such a state, but before he had a chance to ask, the crows surrounded him and grabbed hold of his tam o'shanters with their beaks. And with almost no effort at all were they able to lift the boy into the air and carry him into the depths of the island's forest. They took him quite deep indeed – Anthony was surprised to realize how big the island really was, but then all things look so much smaller when you are standing at a distance from them.
Finally, they came upon what was a most decidedly conspicuous tree standing tall and intimidating among the brush. I say it was conspicuous because it did not match any other tree on the island, and furthermore, it had a wonderful glow emanating from every snag, notch, and hole. The crows led Anthony inside the biggest notch, relatively high up on the tree. The boy soon found that the lights came from thousands of glowworms slowly trudging around the interiors. He rather thought this an unnatural sight, for he would have imagined the birds would EAT the worms. But what he did not understand, silly boy, was that the very services the worms were presently providing was just what was keeping them from out of the bird's bellies! Clever creatures are glowworms.
The crows flew Anthony further up the trunk of the tree and into a chamber where other crows were sitting in attendance to a most impressive and regal looking bird. He stood erect and imposing before Anthony as his crow guides lowered him onto the floor. The wise old bird looked the boy over, and I must say, he seemed rather at a loss.
"What is this thing you bring me?" he asked the crows.
"Looks to be a Human of some kind, sir," came the reply.
The large bird's eyes widened. "You don't say!" He stepped forward. "Little One, tell me, what brings you to our den? And after Lock-Out Time no less!"
Anthony replied carefully. "I am not quite sure, sir, for I was tossed into the Gardens by a mighty wind, and then the fairies came and told me I must see Xavier Caw..."
"Why, that's me!" the bird cut in. "The fairies must have assumed you were a throw-back."
"A 'throw-back,' sir?"
"Yes. You see, child, sometimes when we send our thrushes to their expectant mothers, they are rather disappointed with what we have provided them, and they will cast the child back to the birds. 'Tis unfortunate, but to be sure, this has not happened in some time!"
The crows let out several loyal "Harrumphs."
"Oh, no, no," Anthony shook his head. "My mummy would not send me back. I assure you, 'twas a nasty storm that brought me here."
Xavier Caw made a miffed expression. "This is quite strange. What else would a Human be doing here?" Suddenly, he clapped his wings together. "My grandfather might know!"
Again, the crows nodded their support.
"Indeed, he is the last of us in all of Kensington Gardens to ever lay eyes upon a Human," one crow asserted.
"Come at once, Little One." Xavier Caw held out his wing to Anthony, and with one heave-ho lifted the boy several stories higher into the tree trunk into yet another, albeit smaller, chamber within the bark. There were not as many glowworms in here, and on the far wall of the little room was a little bed. Anthony believed it to look much like the little beds in his sisters' dollhouse. But there was no doll in the bed; nothing but an old and sickly looking bird, rather like an old and sickly version of Xavier Caw, scarcely able to flutter a single feather. And instead of crows, he had several finches attending to him.
"Grandfather," Xavier Caw said softly, "You must wake up and see this for yourself."
Slowly, the old bird opened its weary eyes. Once fixed and focused upon Anthony did they then become round as saucers. "Dear me...!"
"Little One, this is my grandfather, Old Solomon Caw," Xavier Caw announced.
Anthony gave a slight but respectful bow to the elder Caw.
"It has been so very long," Old Solomon Caw began, struggling to sit up in bed, "since last I laid eyes upon one of your ilk. What is your name, Boy?"
The child bit his lip. "Well, I have often heard my mother call me 'Anthony'. I do suppose that must be my name."
"And your father," the old bird pressed on, anxiously, "What does your Mother call him?"
Anthony thought some more. "Erm.....mostly, she calls him 'Love.'"
The thrushes began tittering.
"Do you not know his proper name, Anthony?" asked Solomon Caw. "What do his friends, his associates call him?"
Now, Anthony had to think hard. He tried to picture his father. All of a sudden, his hand, rather automatically, reached in under his shirt and pulled out the Stargazer Lily that Father had given to him earlier in the day. Anthony grasped it firmly, as if he could squeeze out the answer to his question from the petals. He thought back to his many visits to his father at Kensington Gardens, and what the other park workers would call him when they needed his attention to something. Oh, so simple a name too. What was it? It was just on the tip of his tongue. Could it be this? No. What about....? No, not that either. Wait! Is that it? Yes, it was:
"Pan."
Several hushed gasps came from some of the older finches, and even Old Solomon Caw himself was moved to an upright position.
"Pan......My little betwixt-and-between," he muttered. "Then it is true."
"Sir?" asked Anthony and Xavier Caw together.
"Child, you are to stay with us and learn the ways of the Birds and Fairies," Solomon Caw proclaimed, clumsily making his way out of bed. "I presume from how my grandson delivered you to me that your mother has weighed you and so you cannot fly."
"This is true, Sir." Anthony now felt ashamed of this.
Solomon Caw dismissed the notion. "'Tis of no matter. You will learn again soon enough."
The old bird then began shouting orders to the finches and Xavier Caw. He was rather invigorated now – a far sight than how Anthony had first seen him.
"But, dear sir, I do not understand..." Anthony stammered as Xavier Caw and several finches moved to carry him back out of the chamber. "What is to happen to me now?"
Old Solomon Caw smiled a most delicious and mischievous smile. "Anthony Pan, we have been waiting for you."