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? ;-)
Here's Chapter X.......Comments welcome please! Enjoy! (
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X. RETRACE AND RETURN
Peter stumbled quite clumsily through the front door, nearly knocking over Violet, who was at present carrying a tea tray into the kitchen.
"Oh!" she cried. "Why, Mr. Pan, you are soaked to the bone!"
Peter was all too well aware of this. As expected, the thrush's nest had floated away from Bird Island after Peter arrived there, so he had been forced to swim across the Serpentine to get back to the mainland of the park. This left him most disgruntled indeed.
"Thank you, Violet, I hadn't noticed," he muttered. But he soon regained his purpose. "Where is Wendy?"
"She has just gone up to her bath, sir."
It may have been just as well. Peter should not want to disturb his wife with the alarming news just yet, lest he fail in his search for a way to Neverland. There is nothing so heartbreaking as a mother who is helpless to save her own children from a known threat, thus Peter remained mum for the time being.
He climbed the stairs toward the second floor, repeating Xavier Caw's words to himself over and over: "Look to your roots... explore all those things that you have put behind you..."
It was terribly vague, and Peter scarcely knew where to even begin. His own roots, now freshly remembered, were that he had flown to Neverland on his own with Tinker Bell's guidance. No doubt Anthony took the same path.
Tinker Bell. Was she the key? Did she perhaps lead Anthony to Neverland as she did Peter? No, Peter reasoned, Not without telling me.
Perhaps Xavier was referring to Peter's life prior to Kensington Gardens – the mere seven days he spent in the care of his parents. But what could any of that have to do with getting to Neverland. Peter dismissed those considerations and chose to mull over the second part of the riddle: "All those things that you have put behind you."
Did Xavier mean this literally or figuratively? Not one for symbols and metaphors, Peter decided to delve into the literal meaning of the phrase. But what does one actually do with all the things they put behind him? Well, only the previous night did he and Wendy put their painful loss of Anthony behind them by moving all his belongings into the attic. It seemed as good a place as any for Peter to start. Even if he found nothing, perhaps a new idea would occur to him in the process.
And thus Peter unlocked the sacred door – a deed he did not expect to execute again so soon – and ascended the attic stairs. Inside the small, eerie room with the low ceiling, it was everything the stout little walls could do to keep erect amongst the scores of boxes, old pieces of furniture, and other antiquities bearing down on them. Peter could only look about him in bewilderment. At the front of the room were all of Anthony's things, as they were the last to be stored away. Peter figured it wise to wade through all of the more recent memories and make way towards the deepest recesses of them to search for his answer. And so he began to slink around stacks of boxes, climb over discarded dining chairs, duck underneath rusted chandeliers, until he was in the abyss. Now he was surrounded by dollhouses, rocking horses, and wardrobes overflowing with moth-eaten dresses – all of Wendy's childhood possessions. He tried to keep his mind active and alert by exploring these old relics. He even sat upon the rocking horse and pitched to and fro as he tried to come up with *something.* He eyes wandered toward the far wall, which he could just see over a small bookcase, and it made him stop and take notice for a moment.
There was a shelf toward the top of that wall, and on it a lone hatbox. It was a most nondescript hatbox too, however, something about it called to his attention, like the light jingling of bells. Taking whatever intuitions he could get a hold of, he rose from the rocking horse and began to make his way to that back wall.
It was nearly eye-level with Peter and was very light, so he had no trouble taking it off the shelf and setting it on the floor in front of him. The box was marked "P.P." in big bold letters, so Peter figured it had something to do with him, which was an encouraging sign.
And so, Peter lifted the lid, and the moment he saw the panpipes and neatly folded trousers made from vines and leaves, he realized at once that this box contained all the personal effects he had arrived from Neverland with. How extraordinary, Peter thought, and he was instantly taken with revisiting all these long forgotten belongings of his. Also in the box was the headdress the Indians had given him during his and Wendy's wedding ceremony, his knife, and a retractable telescope. He gave his old pipes a brief whistle, for old times sakes, but he was most intrigued by his old suit of leaves. He took it out of the box and cautiously unfolded it – Wendy had taken so much care to preserve it in the first place – and held it up in front of him. He could not believe how small it looked to him now! It was still in immaculate condition; why, even his tiny pockets were still...
Ah, but wait, what's this? Peter had slipped his index and middle fingers – the only two that would fit – into one of the small pockets in the rear of his trousers only to happen upon what felt like a small ball of fabric. In between his two fingers, he was able to pluck this object out, and it appeared to be a tiny satchel, no bigger than your nose, tied off at the top with a vine. He couldn't imagine what it was, as he did not remember ever carrying such a thing on his person. He did, however, think it rather looked like what the worker fairies used to carry on their backs when transporting goods from one den to another.
Peter simply had to find out what it was for, and he tore the vine off and spread the opening apart and looked inside. What he saw therein made his face light up in such a way it had not done since the birth of his children.
Everything around him seemed to disappear in an instant, and he leapt from his seat on the floor and into the air, promptly hitting his head against the low ceiling. But he scarcely felt it at all, and he ran from the room, knocking over countless boxes and old hat racks on the way, with his little bundle of hope gripped tightly in his hand.
"WENDY!" he shouted as he burst through the attic door. Ah, yes, she was taking a bath. Peter quickly scurried down the hall towards their bathroom. He swung open the door to where Wendy had been languishing among the soapy bubbles but was now trying to keep her skin from being scared right off her bones!
"What?! What?!" she grappled, removing the hot face cloth from over her eyes.
Peter stood in the doorway like a firecracker ready to take off. "Wendy, you won't believe it! You simply won't! Well, then again, you might, I dunno, it's been so long, but once I explain it, you are SURE to be–"
"Peter, Peter! Please, do calm down!" Wendy implored. "What is it?"
Peter closed the door behind him and crept up to the bathtub, kneeling down before it. "Wendy, I know where Anthony is."
He waited for her reaction, but there was hardly any. Just a slight lowering of her brow. "What?"
"I'm telling you, I know where he is, and I know how to find him!"
Wendy began to shake her head sadly. "Peter, please, do not do this to me..."
"It's the truth, I swear it! He has gone to Neverland, Wendy, Neverland!" Peter's eyes were so full of hope. "The birds and fairies took care of him in Kensington Gardens, just as they had me, and then they sent him to Neverland!"
Alas, Wendy had since lost her faith in the strange and magical, so it was dreadfully difficult for her to swallow what Peter was feeding her at the moment, and she began to weep. "Peter, please stop. I don't want to hear anymore of this nonsense."
But Peter was determined. He set the satchel down on the floor and jumped right into the bathtub with Wendy, fully clothed. He placed his hands on the edge of the tub on either side of her and stared her straight in the eye.
"Listen to me! When he was taken from us, he landed in another part of the park. And the fairies found him and the birds took care of them, and all of this happened before, to ME!"
Wendy could scarcely believe her ears. But she had always trusted Peter so unconditionally. "You...You're serious, aren't you?"
"With my own eyes I saw them, Wendy, and I spoke with them, and they told me themselves that he is in Neverland!"
Again, Wendy started to weep, but this time for a different reason. "You mean...then he IS alive?"
"Yes!" Peter was enormously relieved that she was starting to believe him. He took her hands in his. "Yes, he is alive, my love, and we must go there and bring him home!"
"But how, Peter? Neither of us remembers how to fly or anything at all!"
A mischievous grin crawled across Peter's face, and only now did he reach over and retrieve the satchel from off the floor. He held it out to Wendy, who took it with a quizzical expression. Carefully, she opened it, and she gasped when saw that it was nearly overflowing with fairy dust!
"Peter! Where did you get this? From the fairies in the Gardens?"
"No, they wouldn't help me. I found this in one of the pockets of my old suit from Neverland. Tinker Bell must have slipped it to me before we left after the ceremony at the Indian camp!"
Indeed, it was so like Tinker Bell to do such a thing too. If there existed any excuse she could provide for him to someday return to Neverland – and to her – she would find it.
Wendy continued to stare at the shimmering substance in disbelief. "This can't be real. It just can't be."
Peter lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. "It is real, Wendy. We are going back to Neverland to find our boy. Tonight!"
* * * *
"But I don't understand, Mummy," the Girls kept saying to Wendy as she tucked them snugly into bed. Peter stood close by, in the doorway.
"Don't you worry about a thing," Wendy assured them. "Daddy and I need to go somewhere and do something very important, but Violet should look after you."
"What do you need to do?"
"I can't tell you that just yet, but I must ask you not to be alarmed if we are gone for more than a few days."
"A few days?!" The Girls sat up straight in bed.
"Now, now, come on," Peter strode up to them. "All will be explained when we get back. We shall bring home a wonderful surprise for you."
This made The Girls smile, and they lay back in bed, but not before Peter gave them both a farewell kiss on their foreheads. He backed away and allowed Wendy to do the same. Peter gave one last wave to his daughters before bolting from the room, but Wendy stood by for an extra moment to regard her lovely daughters. Then, she left the room as well.
She found Peter in their bedroom, crouching before their open window, surveying the satchel of pixie dust. Wendy stood in the doorway and surveyed her clothing. She had slipped into just a simple white cotton nightdress – what she had long come to figure as appropriate attire for a trip to Neverland. He hair was pulled back in a long, loose braid.
"Do you think this will be alright?" she asked Peter, who hadn't even changed at all, despite soaking himself twice that day.
Peter looked up at her, but only motioned for her to shut the door. Wendy obliged him giddily. The whole affair was so frightfully thrilling! She scampered over to Peter and crouched down onto the floor next to him. It was like they were children again.
Wendy watched as Peter slowly poured half the contents of the satchel into the palm of his hand. The other half he poured into Wendy's hand. He looked at her with that sparkle of adventure she loved him for so much, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Ready?" he asked.
"I have waited for three years," she responded breathlessly.
Together, they stood up, and they remained still for a rather long, doubt- ridden moment. What if it didn't work? Then, on a silent count of three, they both blew their handfuls of fairy dust into the other's face, and their minds lingered on their mutual Happy Thoughts – of finally seeing their son again, and doing so together. It was no time at all before they saw their feet no longer touching the ground, and they both gasped merrily. It had worked!
Wasting no time, they clutched each other's hand and floated out the window and into the still London night. They stopped just outside the window and gazed up at the Heavens.
Wendy squeezed Peter's hand. "Do you remember how to get there?"
Peter assessed the stars, then looked at her. "Second to the right and straight on 'til morning."
Wendy smiled. She knew that was all it would take for him to find his way back. And so, with their hands still tightly clenched, they flew off into the night.
Here's Chapter X.......Comments welcome please! Enjoy! (
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X. RETRACE AND RETURN
Peter stumbled quite clumsily through the front door, nearly knocking over Violet, who was at present carrying a tea tray into the kitchen.
"Oh!" she cried. "Why, Mr. Pan, you are soaked to the bone!"
Peter was all too well aware of this. As expected, the thrush's nest had floated away from Bird Island after Peter arrived there, so he had been forced to swim across the Serpentine to get back to the mainland of the park. This left him most disgruntled indeed.
"Thank you, Violet, I hadn't noticed," he muttered. But he soon regained his purpose. "Where is Wendy?"
"She has just gone up to her bath, sir."
It may have been just as well. Peter should not want to disturb his wife with the alarming news just yet, lest he fail in his search for a way to Neverland. There is nothing so heartbreaking as a mother who is helpless to save her own children from a known threat, thus Peter remained mum for the time being.
He climbed the stairs toward the second floor, repeating Xavier Caw's words to himself over and over: "Look to your roots... explore all those things that you have put behind you..."
It was terribly vague, and Peter scarcely knew where to even begin. His own roots, now freshly remembered, were that he had flown to Neverland on his own with Tinker Bell's guidance. No doubt Anthony took the same path.
Tinker Bell. Was she the key? Did she perhaps lead Anthony to Neverland as she did Peter? No, Peter reasoned, Not without telling me.
Perhaps Xavier was referring to Peter's life prior to Kensington Gardens – the mere seven days he spent in the care of his parents. But what could any of that have to do with getting to Neverland. Peter dismissed those considerations and chose to mull over the second part of the riddle: "All those things that you have put behind you."
Did Xavier mean this literally or figuratively? Not one for symbols and metaphors, Peter decided to delve into the literal meaning of the phrase. But what does one actually do with all the things they put behind him? Well, only the previous night did he and Wendy put their painful loss of Anthony behind them by moving all his belongings into the attic. It seemed as good a place as any for Peter to start. Even if he found nothing, perhaps a new idea would occur to him in the process.
And thus Peter unlocked the sacred door – a deed he did not expect to execute again so soon – and ascended the attic stairs. Inside the small, eerie room with the low ceiling, it was everything the stout little walls could do to keep erect amongst the scores of boxes, old pieces of furniture, and other antiquities bearing down on them. Peter could only look about him in bewilderment. At the front of the room were all of Anthony's things, as they were the last to be stored away. Peter figured it wise to wade through all of the more recent memories and make way towards the deepest recesses of them to search for his answer. And so he began to slink around stacks of boxes, climb over discarded dining chairs, duck underneath rusted chandeliers, until he was in the abyss. Now he was surrounded by dollhouses, rocking horses, and wardrobes overflowing with moth-eaten dresses – all of Wendy's childhood possessions. He tried to keep his mind active and alert by exploring these old relics. He even sat upon the rocking horse and pitched to and fro as he tried to come up with *something.* He eyes wandered toward the far wall, which he could just see over a small bookcase, and it made him stop and take notice for a moment.
There was a shelf toward the top of that wall, and on it a lone hatbox. It was a most nondescript hatbox too, however, something about it called to his attention, like the light jingling of bells. Taking whatever intuitions he could get a hold of, he rose from the rocking horse and began to make his way to that back wall.
It was nearly eye-level with Peter and was very light, so he had no trouble taking it off the shelf and setting it on the floor in front of him. The box was marked "P.P." in big bold letters, so Peter figured it had something to do with him, which was an encouraging sign.
And so, Peter lifted the lid, and the moment he saw the panpipes and neatly folded trousers made from vines and leaves, he realized at once that this box contained all the personal effects he had arrived from Neverland with. How extraordinary, Peter thought, and he was instantly taken with revisiting all these long forgotten belongings of his. Also in the box was the headdress the Indians had given him during his and Wendy's wedding ceremony, his knife, and a retractable telescope. He gave his old pipes a brief whistle, for old times sakes, but he was most intrigued by his old suit of leaves. He took it out of the box and cautiously unfolded it – Wendy had taken so much care to preserve it in the first place – and held it up in front of him. He could not believe how small it looked to him now! It was still in immaculate condition; why, even his tiny pockets were still...
Ah, but wait, what's this? Peter had slipped his index and middle fingers – the only two that would fit – into one of the small pockets in the rear of his trousers only to happen upon what felt like a small ball of fabric. In between his two fingers, he was able to pluck this object out, and it appeared to be a tiny satchel, no bigger than your nose, tied off at the top with a vine. He couldn't imagine what it was, as he did not remember ever carrying such a thing on his person. He did, however, think it rather looked like what the worker fairies used to carry on their backs when transporting goods from one den to another.
Peter simply had to find out what it was for, and he tore the vine off and spread the opening apart and looked inside. What he saw therein made his face light up in such a way it had not done since the birth of his children.
Everything around him seemed to disappear in an instant, and he leapt from his seat on the floor and into the air, promptly hitting his head against the low ceiling. But he scarcely felt it at all, and he ran from the room, knocking over countless boxes and old hat racks on the way, with his little bundle of hope gripped tightly in his hand.
"WENDY!" he shouted as he burst through the attic door. Ah, yes, she was taking a bath. Peter quickly scurried down the hall towards their bathroom. He swung open the door to where Wendy had been languishing among the soapy bubbles but was now trying to keep her skin from being scared right off her bones!
"What?! What?!" she grappled, removing the hot face cloth from over her eyes.
Peter stood in the doorway like a firecracker ready to take off. "Wendy, you won't believe it! You simply won't! Well, then again, you might, I dunno, it's been so long, but once I explain it, you are SURE to be–"
"Peter, Peter! Please, do calm down!" Wendy implored. "What is it?"
Peter closed the door behind him and crept up to the bathtub, kneeling down before it. "Wendy, I know where Anthony is."
He waited for her reaction, but there was hardly any. Just a slight lowering of her brow. "What?"
"I'm telling you, I know where he is, and I know how to find him!"
Wendy began to shake her head sadly. "Peter, please, do not do this to me..."
"It's the truth, I swear it! He has gone to Neverland, Wendy, Neverland!" Peter's eyes were so full of hope. "The birds and fairies took care of him in Kensington Gardens, just as they had me, and then they sent him to Neverland!"
Alas, Wendy had since lost her faith in the strange and magical, so it was dreadfully difficult for her to swallow what Peter was feeding her at the moment, and she began to weep. "Peter, please stop. I don't want to hear anymore of this nonsense."
But Peter was determined. He set the satchel down on the floor and jumped right into the bathtub with Wendy, fully clothed. He placed his hands on the edge of the tub on either side of her and stared her straight in the eye.
"Listen to me! When he was taken from us, he landed in another part of the park. And the fairies found him and the birds took care of them, and all of this happened before, to ME!"
Wendy could scarcely believe her ears. But she had always trusted Peter so unconditionally. "You...You're serious, aren't you?"
"With my own eyes I saw them, Wendy, and I spoke with them, and they told me themselves that he is in Neverland!"
Again, Wendy started to weep, but this time for a different reason. "You mean...then he IS alive?"
"Yes!" Peter was enormously relieved that she was starting to believe him. He took her hands in his. "Yes, he is alive, my love, and we must go there and bring him home!"
"But how, Peter? Neither of us remembers how to fly or anything at all!"
A mischievous grin crawled across Peter's face, and only now did he reach over and retrieve the satchel from off the floor. He held it out to Wendy, who took it with a quizzical expression. Carefully, she opened it, and she gasped when saw that it was nearly overflowing with fairy dust!
"Peter! Where did you get this? From the fairies in the Gardens?"
"No, they wouldn't help me. I found this in one of the pockets of my old suit from Neverland. Tinker Bell must have slipped it to me before we left after the ceremony at the Indian camp!"
Indeed, it was so like Tinker Bell to do such a thing too. If there existed any excuse she could provide for him to someday return to Neverland – and to her – she would find it.
Wendy continued to stare at the shimmering substance in disbelief. "This can't be real. It just can't be."
Peter lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. "It is real, Wendy. We are going back to Neverland to find our boy. Tonight!"
* * * *
"But I don't understand, Mummy," the Girls kept saying to Wendy as she tucked them snugly into bed. Peter stood close by, in the doorway.
"Don't you worry about a thing," Wendy assured them. "Daddy and I need to go somewhere and do something very important, but Violet should look after you."
"What do you need to do?"
"I can't tell you that just yet, but I must ask you not to be alarmed if we are gone for more than a few days."
"A few days?!" The Girls sat up straight in bed.
"Now, now, come on," Peter strode up to them. "All will be explained when we get back. We shall bring home a wonderful surprise for you."
This made The Girls smile, and they lay back in bed, but not before Peter gave them both a farewell kiss on their foreheads. He backed away and allowed Wendy to do the same. Peter gave one last wave to his daughters before bolting from the room, but Wendy stood by for an extra moment to regard her lovely daughters. Then, she left the room as well.
She found Peter in their bedroom, crouching before their open window, surveying the satchel of pixie dust. Wendy stood in the doorway and surveyed her clothing. She had slipped into just a simple white cotton nightdress – what she had long come to figure as appropriate attire for a trip to Neverland. He hair was pulled back in a long, loose braid.
"Do you think this will be alright?" she asked Peter, who hadn't even changed at all, despite soaking himself twice that day.
Peter looked up at her, but only motioned for her to shut the door. Wendy obliged him giddily. The whole affair was so frightfully thrilling! She scampered over to Peter and crouched down onto the floor next to him. It was like they were children again.
Wendy watched as Peter slowly poured half the contents of the satchel into the palm of his hand. The other half he poured into Wendy's hand. He looked at her with that sparkle of adventure she loved him for so much, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Ready?" he asked.
"I have waited for three years," she responded breathlessly.
Together, they stood up, and they remained still for a rather long, doubt- ridden moment. What if it didn't work? Then, on a silent count of three, they both blew their handfuls of fairy dust into the other's face, and their minds lingered on their mutual Happy Thoughts – of finally seeing their son again, and doing so together. It was no time at all before they saw their feet no longer touching the ground, and they both gasped merrily. It had worked!
Wasting no time, they clutched each other's hand and floated out the window and into the still London night. They stopped just outside the window and gazed up at the Heavens.
Wendy squeezed Peter's hand. "Do you remember how to get there?"
Peter assessed the stars, then looked at her. "Second to the right and straight on 'til morning."
Wendy smiled. She knew that was all it would take for him to find his way back. And so, with their hands still tightly clenched, they flew off into the night.