Chapter 8: Somewhere Out There
That night, Wendy put her best acting skills to good use. She mournfully stumbled through dinner, her uncle glaring at her intently. If he thought something was off about her, he didn't voice it, which was a good thing. Little William was growing so rapidly, Wendy sometimes felt as if she was watching him not as much as she should. It seemed every time she turned her head, he grew another inch. And he was becoming a fat, adorable baby, which made her miss Peter even more.
As she settled down for bed, she lay there until she heard her aunt and uncle coming up the stairs, and then heard their door close. Then, quietly as she could, she crept out of her room, and to the next door to Slightly's. She gave a low double knock, and entered. His room wasn't nearly as tidy as hers, and even in the darkness, she saw toys scattered amongst the floor like booby traps. She heard something crunch under her foot. The sound was so loud she was surprised all the lights in the city didn't go on. She calmed herself and called out, "Slightly, are you awake?"
"Aye?" Came a sleepy reply.
She smiled, and felt around blindly to his bed in the darkness. She quickly lit his bedside lamp, a grin on her face.
"Wendy, what is it?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.
Wendy bit her lip, and stared intently at the doorknob. "Shhh, not too loud. I don't want Uncle William to hear us."
Slightly nodded, and whispered, "What's wrong?"
"Oh Slightly, I've been such a fool, the way I've acted toward Peter."
"Aye lass, you have." Slightly agreed.
"I want him back. I have to find him and apologize."
"Pan's coming back?" He asked, his eyes growing wide with excitement.
"I hope so. Do you have any idea where he is? Any at all?"
Slightly thought a moment. "Kids have been talking at school. My friend Tom lives across from an orphanage, he says he swears he saw a flying boy leave there a few nights back."
Wendy's eyes grew wide too. "What orphanage? Do you remember the name? Think hard."
Slightly closed his eyes in concentration. "Saint whatsits… saint…"
"Saint Augustine's?" Wendy asked hopefully.
"Aye, that's the one."
Wendy grinned, and wrapped her arms around her cousin.
"Easy," Slightly whimpered.
"Thank you, Slightly!" She whispered.
Slightly nodded. "You're welcome, Wendy. It'd be great to have Pan back."
"It would," She agreed. "Good night,"
"Good Night," He grumbled.
Wendy blew out his lamp and scampered back across the hall. And for the first time in a long time, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.
Wendy found Aunt Millicent sewing in the sitting room the next afternoon. She entered quietly, and sat down across from her aunt.
"Good afternoon, Wendy." Aunt Millicent said without looking up.
"Good afternoon, Aunt."
There was a pause.
"Is there something you want, child?" Aunt Millicent asked.
Wendy gave a little smile, "Well, most of the girls my age have been doing some volunteer work. And I want to do some too. I think it would be a nice way…"
Aunt Millicent cut her off with a wave of her hand, "That's a splendid idea!"
"I've already got a place picked out… Saint Augustine's. I absolutely adore children, and I've had a lot of practice with my brothers…"
Aunt Millicent smiled. "I'll talk to Sister Margaret, I'm sure she could find a place for you there. And might I say Wendy, I'm most pleased with your change. Your uncle will be pleased as well."
"Thank you, Aunt," Wendy said, almost gagging at the sound of her uncle's name. "May I be excused?"
"Of course, girl."
Wendy got up, and walked briskly into her room. As soon as the door was shut, she fanned out on her bed, smiling brightly. Soon, she'd be back with Peter.
Wendy had been volunteering at St. Augustine's for nearly a week, and still no Peter. She was growing to love the children there, and she told them her stories of Peter Pan she would tell her brothers, hoping against hope that there might be one boy listening outside on the ledge. She'd asked the children if they saw a flying boy, but they didn't trust her enough yet to answer her truthfully.
She rolled over in her bed, fully awake, unable to sleep. She didn't even have to put up a front in the presence of her uncle. Wendy was truly heartbroken, just the way her uncle liked her to be. She'd go and pay the orphans a visit. Sister Margaret really liked her, and she knew she would let her into the nursery. She grabbed her drawing of Peter she had drawn the night he came to her, and crept quietly out of the house.
It was either really early or really late when Wendy arrived at St. Augustine's. Sister Margaret told her the children were all asleep, but she let her into the nursery anyway. Wendy would wait all night if she had to for Peter. But it turned out she didn't have to wait long at all. She had just settled into her chair when a familiar gust of wind blew the window open, causing the fire to flicker. And there he was, hands on his hips, willing to take anyone who believed with him.
Wendy stood awkwardly, holding her drawing tightly. Damn her uncle for trying to ruin her happiness! She had met this boy, and he cared about her, she knew it. Why else would he have visited her, trying to unlock her memory? And when she had found her drawing, she had let the memories wash over her. She'd steal away with Peter again. "Peter," She said, "I've been waiting for you."
"What for?" He asked.
"I remember."
A spark ignited in Peter's eyes. But no! Perhaps she was toying with him. "Oh?" He asked nonchalantly.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. She felt like singing! She shoved the drawing under his nose. "I drew this the first night you came to me! You'd wait outside, listening to my stories!"
Peter grinned. She was back. She was everything he remembered her being. "I helped you remember!" He shouted, pleased with himself. He cupped her face. "Wendy, my Wendy." He grabbed her, and spun her around.
She gave a low laugh, as not to wake the children. But there were tears in her eyes.
He stared at her. "What's wrong?"
Her uncle had kept her from so much joy. "Nothing. Everything is fine now. I want to go back to Neverland! I want to visit the fairies, and the mermaids, and I want to fly! I want to go on another adventure!"
But Peter just crossed his arms. "How long would you stay?"
Wendy stared at him.
He shook his head. "You'd leave to grow up again."
"Peter, I have to."
"Why?" He demanded. "To grow old and die?"
Wendy felt as though she had been slapped. "I didn't think you'd understand. There's much more to life than adventures and childhood, Peter."
"Like what?"
"Many things! Like love, and friendship, and family…"
He shook his head again. "That's not for me. Especially love."
"Then you are fooling yourself," She snapped. "And you're just a silly boy."
He turned to her, his eyes burning. Then, he flew out the window without a look back.
And just like that, it was over, and Wendy was left crying alone in the orphanage.