CHAPTER 8
'Look at earth from outer space, every one must find a place. Give me time and give me space ...wounds that heal and cracks that fix, tell me your own politic'
-Coldplay-
Wendy met her mother's eye tentively. Although preparing herself for the worst she was shocked indeed to see her mother glowering at her, a frosty chill webbing across the iris of her eyes. Wendy felt her eyes sting and she cast them to the tiles below her feet in abashment .
It was at this precise moment that Mrs. Darling found Peter "hiding" in a corner of shadows near the arch of the door. She became taken back for he was most certainly not the same way she remembered he appearance. He was taller now, well built with a toned copper that gleamed in the sunlight. His hair had mellowed from its fury of his early youth to a subtle dusty, summer blonde. However, she could still sense the same presence. Despite the fact he now stood before her, attired in the garments of an English gentleman, there was still that glow about him. The locks of liquid sun that dripped out from under the brim of his gray hat and the mischievous glimmer pouring from the chrysalis of his orbs. The ones that told tales of adventures. Summers dancing with Indians, nights chasing the stars and endless hours singing with the fairies or battling pirates. She remembered it all with such crystal clarity. This wild boy, this untamed creature, the one that could fly and charm anyone with a heart to give, this one who had whisked Wendy's spirit her very soul away to his magical world and there it had remained as he had never returned it. Yes, this one called Peter Pan...Peter Pan of Neverland.
"I can explain." Came the soft and mellow tone that turned the older woman's attention back to her child and the problem at hand.
It wasn't as if she were mad at the girl for carefully hiding the boy, she could understand why she would and she could easily understand both sides of the coin however, it didn't matter to her...what cut Mrs. Darling to the quick, was that her sweet, loving, darling, honest, Wendy had lied to her. Oh and not just any lie, mind you, it was the worst kind. It was bold faced. Looking at her now, she could see the pain behind the girl's eyes, the shame and regret but it didn't change the fact and Mrs. Darling knew that it was going to be hard for both of them now.
She nodded curtly.
"Wendy, why is it that you felt it absolutely necessary to lie to me?!" Without waiting for a response, she tossed another question upon the girl's shoulders. She did not mean to be it was spat out as if spoiled milk had touched her tongue.
"What is the truth?!"
Wendy chocked back a sob lightly, her eyes filling with a thin sheet of glass.
"Four days ago, I heard a noise coming from the hall outside the door of my bedroom. When I went to investigate, I came about an intruder in the house hold. After grappling with him a bit, I prevailed, only to come to the realization that it was Peter..."
"Pan." Mrs. Darling finished.
A downhearted 'Yes' was the reply. Wendy's tear filled eyes met her mother's crisp ones in bereavement.
"I didn't know what to do or say, so I concocted a story and Peter, he followed however, it's not his fault, none of it is. When I fought him the other night I wounded him and John, John agreed to take a look at it then told him that he was to stay in London for the next three days. Peter was suppose to have left last night and I wasn't lying when I said he did for he had full intentions of flying away to the edge of the stars but somehow, I suppose throughout everything, he forgot his way and is now stuck in London. I am so sorry I didn't tell you I just..."
"Wendy its fine." Mrs. Darling assured, and she felt her heart twinge with guilt. She sighed heavily nodding to herself.
"He may remain in this household for as long as he wants, that still holds fast in my mind. Wendy, I have never had a problem with this and I trust the boy however, it is you whom I am having doubts about now."
Wendy could not stop the tears from seeping from her eyes, coursing down her cheeks forlornly. Mrs. Darling found herself looking away from the tears that were trying to ripe at her soul while she finished exacting her punishment.
"Therefore, I am assigning the boy to watch you, he will go with you where ever you go until I find trust with in you again. Is this clear?"
She nodded once for running towards the stairs and towards the door to her room. Both Peter and Mrs. Darling watched her go and with that, Mrs. Darling sighed, sinking silently into her chair. Her eyes drifted out the window, calmly watching the rain beat against the glass panes. She glanced over at the younger slowly, her glassy eyes singing a lamentation to the air.
"Go check on her for me?"
Without a word, for they were not needed, Peter nodded, heading for the second door to the right in the upper portion of the house. He did not bother with the stairs, instead, he rose in the air, twisting over the banister to the wooden boards on the opposite side.
The brilliance almost blinded him as the door opened in front of him however, he found the ambiance greeting him on the other side oddly refreshing. Peter watched the sun place it's ameliorate arms around the girl staring out the window. Noting the boy guardian, it nodded its head in concern, flashing him a silent message before drifting gently away, joining with some clouds in the sky, leaving the duo all alone in a mass sung to the lingering silence caught with in the expansion of the heavens above.
Peter felt his heart churn inside his chest as he watched. Wendy hadn't sounded like she was crying at all, however, at the first hint of a glass bead falling to the oak floor bellow to the solace splash that rang through out his ears, singing its soft lullaby, his heart shredded and for the first time, he felt the world did not belong to him. He had no control and his feet began to feel like lead under him.
"Wendy?" Peter wanted to whisper but, couldn't find his voice to do so, it had fled out the window in search of the sunshine, riding his own shadow's back to catch up.
His eyes drifted to the floor, meshing with the hard wood flooring below. His eyes stung as the swirled endlessly in things that he had been trying to fight remembering since the moment he had entered into that nursery door for the very first time in six years. Now, they came and hit him fully and as they did, a manasury of forgotten feelings over took his senses and his heart began to yearn for the pain to be carried away to some distant reign, banished forever, never to return again. Little did Peter know, this was just the beginning of everything that was yet to follow in its footsteps.
The boy floated over to the bed where Wendy had settled, stretching his hand impulsively towards the girl before it came to rest consolingly upon her shoulder. Moments more of silence and the sands of time seemed to flow at a ridiculous pace, almost coming to a complete halt altogether. A fire of green melted into the mist of a deep blue sea pooling over a dam that just couldn't keep all the water from seeping from its corners.
Peter's eyes never adverted from hers as his hands found their way into her delicate, yet strong counterparts. After a visit to the sun, Peter's voice found its way back to its nesting once again.
"Wendy, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. Maybe it would have been better if..."
Smiling softly, she placed a reassuring finger upon the boy's lips in mid his sentence.
"No Peter, don't talk like that. I am glad you are here. You are the embodiment of all the great many, wonderful and exciting things that I have forgotten over time. And here they are again, in the very same air they left in."
For the time being, it did not even register on the young woman's mind that the very soul of arrogance, cockiness and youth was telling her that he was at fault. She simply dismissed it into oblivion. But fortunately for our Wendy, this would not be the first time that Peter would make a brush with reality but it is, for the time being, that Peter's quizzical glance and only the lingering numbness of lips on the side of his cheeks that would emboss the moment into the pages of times, and the corridors of memories.
The girl gazed at him fondly, smiling softly as gently brushed a wisp of gold from his forehead, her palm lingering on the side of his cheek when her eyes melted into his. The well that was there, the pain, confusion, fear, arrogance, mischief, kindness and fondness, drew her closer to him, bringing their worlds clashing in a tidal wave of feelings together into a pool of color, mystery and wonder.
It was the first time her mind spoke that simple and yet amazingly remarkable and bold statement. And it jumped to life before her eyes. And her eyes whispered it too him before they closed.
'I love you, Peter Pan.'
Wendy suddenly found herself once again, and breaking from her trance, she quickly glanced away, her cheeks creaming a rosy hue that she knew was too bright to hide. So instead of hiding it, she quickly rose from her bed, stating that it was quite late and that they should both retire for the evening. After bidding him goodnight, she proceeded to show Peter out of the room. Once done, she stood, huffing lightly, her back pressed firmly against the door.
Sighing to herself, she walked over to the starry night, watching two stars twinkle brightly down at her in all their glory and radiance. And on that star, second to the right and straight on till morning, she made a solemn wish based on all the hope and dreams burning within the core of her heart and all her good will.
"Please, Please, Please, let Peter find his way home."
A cool breeze answered, kissing Wendy's hair lightly with its tender touch, before wishing London a goodnight, twisting up towards the heavens and to that magical place that would always capture her soul at the very mention of its name....Neverland.
She sighed, shutting the shutters before blowing out her candle's light until only a black wisp of smoke smoldered in the stale air around...and the tongue of hope died with it.
Peter stared out the window at the stars for hours before finally alighting to bed. That night, a restless slumber fell upon the lad and he tossed and turned endlessly.
He was on cobblestone street, consumed in a dense fog. People moved to and fro in front of him. The ambiance of the air seemed thick, haunting and anxious. Peter's eyes darted through out the crowds trying to find a light somewhere in amongst the gray. There was nothing, as far as the eye could see. Just a colorless world full of nothingness and a void of individuality. Everyone wore the same thing as everyone else. Black this, gray that, drained of who they once were.
The boy's heart begin to pound heavily, beating against everything this place was. It beat viciously to find life, just a breath of it...anywhere. Suddenly, just as Peter had almost given up hope, the crowds parted and she lifted her head, gazing at him from a far, her radiant eyes sparkling a brilliant blue at him. She was attired in her white night gown, her curly auburn hair glowing in the light that was seeming to protrude from her very own being.
"Peter..." her voice called, ringing sweetly through his ears.
Her mouth smiled, easing his heart and he felt the chains around his legs fall to the ground below as he watched on. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, and she broke his view. The glow around the girl suddenly began to dull and Peter found himself shaking his head profusely.
"No..."
The void of color began to seep into her skin, sucking all the glow from around her. Slowly, Peter watched in horror as her skin began to turn a soft, mournful shade of gray, and the childish face that he remembered oh so well, began to melt into an adult form, the beautiful peach tint melting into the background as the world took over. Wendy gazed at Peter sadly Through her crystal blue orbs and for and instant, he could hear her soul calling out to him.
"Peter..."
His mouth fell and he shook his head absently, the weight of all the gray crashing upon his shoulders, crowding in as he just helplessly watched her.
"No...no, please...Wendy..."
The girl's eyes faded away into the void of nothingness, the voice of life disappearing from her eyes, melting away from her being and she began to walk away...disappearing into the void, melting in with the rest of the mold surrounding her until she was nothing more then another face in the lifeless crowd.
"Wendy!! No! Don't listen! Ignore them!!! Please!...Wendy!!!!...Wendy!!!...
"Wendy!!!!" Peter cried, bolting aright at the window ledge where he had fallen asleep.
A beads of perspiration dripped from his temple, running its course down his cheek melting with his cheek. Catching his breath, he glanced up at the stares, gazing at the second star longingly. London was a place of mystery to him however, he knew, if stayed for too much longer, he was going to remember all that he had striven to forget and he....he had to find a way back...he just had too. His eyes growing suddenly heavy, the shut out the world along with its problems and set backs, settling into a dreamless sleep that carried him through the rest of the night.
Peter counted the cracks on the sidewalk as he traveled further and further down its narrow path leading into the next block, continuing the gray. He and Wendy had traveled into town that morning for she had some business to attend to at Marion's department store. However, Peter's mind had been consumed with the dream he had envisioned the night before and it had distanced him considerably for that day.
His eyes didn't glow with the same exuberance, they remained relatively blank, dull to all the world, gazing at everything through a discolored lens to the world that had so blatantly become his reality. Wendy had noticed but hadn't uttered a single word about it. Instead, she left him on the side walk, in the vicinity as she took care of her errand, allowing time to maybe cogitate. She knew that this was far from easy for him and her heart wrenched every time she thought about it.
After promising that he would stay in the surrounding areas and that he would behave, she had run off and for the last hour and a half, he had been drifting in circles around the block that was Dunbar and Bayswater streets. He had paced around it at least fourteen times already, not really paying much attention and not learning anything new at all, except for the fact that there were indeed exactly fourteen cracks in the midst of each side walk and forty-two bricks lining each side of the walks making it a grand total of eighty-four all together for each side.
He sighed, glancing up at the street sign over head. The intersecting line between Bayswater and Dunbar, and above that rose a two story building with an abandoned window staring down at him with a pleading air about it. Wisps of the ancient curtains, light blue as a matter a fact, blew towards him, whispering in secret as if trying to tell him the reason they were abandoned in the first place. Something in his heart caused his soul to cry out and he found himself being hypnotically beckoned closer towards it ghostly presence.
He didn't understand it, for it was, after all, just a window, but it was just that this window didn't' seem in the slightest a bit ordinary and it was all things mysterious that always would catch Peter's attention...it didn't really matter what they were. He could hear an air about it and a haunting voice that called out to him softly, speaking of stories and great adventures that were once told with in those four walls above.
Finding himself in front of the entrance, his gaze met with the brown door standing in his path and with out thinking, his palm reached forwards, twisting the door knob slowly, cracking it slightly. A stale and musty air greeted Peter's nostrils and when it did, his heart skipped a beat with in his chest begging him to pull back, pinching his consciousness tightly in warning and yet his adventurous legs begged to trudge forwards even more so. Suddenly, a clearing of someone's throat alerted him to another presence and he turned his head wearily, coming face to face with the bobby from the previous day.
"Can I help Ye lad?" he asked rising a suspicious brow.
"Do you know who it is that this particular window belongs to?"
Suddenly loosing all his weariness, the officer smiled fondly nodding.
"Aye. No one now lad. However, several years ago, a small family of three use to inhabit it. The nicest of people you ever did want to meet, a lovely bunch really. It was a husband, a wife and their young child." He laughed. "I can't remember much about them really, only that the misses was quite unusual. She was a lovely woman, both in appearance and heart. gifted was she, with the most attractive singing voice. I never met someone with so much life and spirit." Pausing, he chuckled before adding. "well except maybe their kid."
Curiosity getting the better of him, Peter stepped forwards, not realizing until later, what the consequences of his actions could possibly mean for him.
"What happened to them?"
"Tragic really. That family suffered some sort of family crises and abandoned the house shortly there after. I have never seen them since myself."
"Just how long ago has that been?"
"Oh, I'd say bout twenty-two years. My, my doesn't time just fly? Well, I best be getting back to me duties. Good day to ye lad."
Peter just watched him disappear around the corner of the street, into the dank alley that he and Wendy had encountered the week previously. Sighing yet again, he turned away from the corner, coursing down the main walkway of Bayswater.
The wind breathed his name lightly through his hair. It knew something was very wrong with the young guardian. However, they dared not ask nor did Peter dare off to admit anything, no not even hint of it for that would mean in the end he would have to face...so they just walked in silence for a few moments, the wind keeping its ears open in case the floods from behind his eyes finally broke. This was not to be on this occasion however and the dubious breeze departed from him soon after.
Peter's nose remained faceted to the walkway, although every once and a while, his eyes would surface and he'd find himself staring into different shops and cafés along the road. He paid no never mind to them really, until that is, his eyes fell to a lone book lounging lazily in a bookstore window, a light sheen of dust covering its leather binding from being left undisturbed for a certain amount of time. And in gold letters, boldly embossed across the top of the codex, was the title, The Fairy Tales of George MacDonald.
Peter's palms found their way to the glass, pressing lightly as the book seemed to whisper to him and for a second time he felt the air around him swirling into a mass of a million colors. Everything around him seemed almost surreal and he couldn't decipher reality from the dream.
He heard the gay laughter of a child echoing inside his head and before he could question what it was or what was happening to him, He found himself standing on a frozen street of London in the dark of night. The only thing illuminating the sleepy city, were slight glow of the street lights. And from within their crystal domains, they shone like captured stars. Silver flakes fell from their heavenly abodes, showering the earth in their mystical blankets of enchantment.
Peter watched his breath puff from his mouth in light spindles of white silk and he found his eyes drifting curiously over his surroundings. A single, white light, seemingly different from everything else called out to him and he glanced up at window. He could see the curtain swaying lightly in the updraft that had shadowed all of London.
The nightlight laughed along with the young child sitting up in his bed, watching his mother as her eyes would move in such a gallant way as she described to him exactly how enormous this or that was. Her delicate hands moved in a steady rhythm as she related all that was mysterious and unknown to this world and again, the boy would laugh.
Peter Pan, apparently forgetting about the people surrounding him, rose from the ground, carrying himself to the window and the lift of the wind. After thanking it, he stepped off on the edge of the balcony, being sure not to get to terribly close so as not to be detected, though close enough to hear. And to what he heard, the feeling of melting merged into the depths of his mind.
He sat in mid air, cross legged, his thoughts ruptured by the sound of the sweetness echoing from the woman's voice. The sound of an angel on earth. The lady was beautiful in appearance, her green eyes clear and vibrant. A well of soul and emotion were captured in their ocean and she had perfect control and balance of them. And when she smiled, a hidden token of her beauty became clearly visible: her hidden kiss, chaste and more beauteous then all the elegance in the entire world.
Peter watched on, her sparkling eyes would every so often twinkling mystically as if she were the two stars shining down upon him in the sky and a strange feeling of comfort rushed over him, leaving him tingling electrically in something he just couldn't understand. Her lilting laugh filled the remarkable ambiance. Light as feather but with the strength of rushing water. And for the first time, Peter felt the weight of London lifted from his shoulders.
The young red headed boy watched her eagerly, almost greedily, as to see what story she would speak of next. She picked up a large, leather bound book. The pages were mused quite a bit with the passing of time and there were several stains that had stricken its contents from white long ago. She opened it to about the mid of the book. Brushing a stray strand of creamy mahogany from her face, she smiled at the child in front of her.
"At the Back of the North Wind. 'I have been asked to tell you about the back of the north wind. An old Greek writer mentions a people who lived there, and were so comfortable that they could not bear it any longer, and drowned themselves. My story is not the same as his. I do not think Herodotus had got the right account of the place. I am going to tell you how it fared with a boy who went there. He lived in a low room over a coach-house; and that was not by any means at the back of the north wind, as his mother very well knew. For one side of the room was built only of boards, and the boards were so old that you might run a penknife through into the north wind. And then let them settle between them which were the sharper! I know that when you pulled it out again the wind would be after it like a cat after a mouse, and you would know soon enough you were not at the back of the north wind. Still, this room was not very cold, except when the north wind blew stronger than usual: the room I have to do with now was always cold, except in summer, when the sun took the matter into his own hands. Indeed, I am not sure whether I ought to call it a room at all; for it was just a loft where they kept hay and straw and oats for the horses...'
"Mother..." the boy interrupted only into the second paragraph of the story, of which he had heard before many times and could recite by heart.
The young woman paused in good nature, gazing at her son fondly.
"What is it my love? Do you not wish to hear about the boy and the north wind tonight?"
The lad shook his head vigorously, procuring a very mischievous gleam in his eyes that, well could be considered very naughty at times. She smiled broadly, knowing well what her son's mind was saying to hear in their secret language.
"Captain Hook then?"
The lad nodded again.
"Yes! Oh do tell an adventure of captain Hook and The boy hero."
Shutting the book, the woman nodded exuberantly.
"Very well. Peter, did I ever tell you of the time Captain Jas. Hook met the mermaids for the very first time?"
"I do not believe so." Came the reply.
The light danced across her eyes and they began to twinkle with the swirl of Neverland. "It was late in the eve, just before night fall, and dusk loomed thickly in the air, creating an eerie atmosphere. The mermaids loved this time of the evening and could often be seen as the moon was beginning to rise over the west of the islands." "Oh how lovely." Peter interjected sitting up a little straighter. "I bet they were such a lovely sight."
"Now Peter, this you must know, these mermaids are not like the ones in the story books. These mermaids are creatures of the dark and their hearts reside in a pool of blackness for unexpecting prey. Their eyes are quite hypnotic and if you were to gaze into them for a long enough period or get too terribly close, they'd kindly drown you." Peter's eyes widened, his face going a tad to the pale side and he gripped his covers tighter waiting for his mother to continue. "They were also the only creatures who knew about every going on in the circle of the islands. From the great masts of the Jolly Roger to the nests high above the tree tops, where the never birds resided. And so it was, they were the first to hear about the arrival of the great ship that had newly set berth in Pirate's cove. Now these creatures were also quite curious, much like everything else in the Neverlands, and it was to them, that they revel on every new thing that came about.
It was about this time of eve on the Jolly Roger that the Capt. Had finished with his supper and while it was usual for the crews to be below deck singing a carol of song for the open seas and their conquests, tonight the Capt. Didn't join in. Instead, he found himself on the main deck, staring into the murky waters of the never deep. Spindles of smoke bellowed from his double cigars and danced with the tethered wind. As he watched he saw the water swirl around in circles, as if a fire was burning deeply within the belly of the ocean. Moments later, a thing void of shape began to surface catching the captain's attention readily. And as he watched on the figure did take shape, breeching the water finally and melting its deceptive eyes within the blueness of forget-me-nots. Thus it was that Capt. Jas. Hook first set eyes on a mermaid and that the mermaids first set eyes on him. How it was that Hook was not in the slightest effected by the mermaid's hypnotic powers or that they were not at all intimidated by his overbarrence was almost beyond comprehension. Perhaps it was the simple fact that both the mermaids and the Capt. Shared in common. They were both equally dark hearted. And that is the story of how the island's two darkest creatures came to be together. The mermaids frequented Pirate's cove several times, always curious to get a glimmer of this man...and as always, no words were spoken, they just stared for a good period before they would dash off again." The woman smiled glancing over at her sleeping son. She leaned over kissing his forehead, leaving a light trace of red on the creases of his brow.
"Good night little one." To the nightlights, she whispered, "Sweet nightlights, burn clear and bright, protect my precious one tonight."
Peter watched her retreat from the room, meeting a taller man at the door and a kiss was placed meekly upon his lips. As the two moved from the door way the corridor, Peter felt a strange wetness sink to the corner of his lip and a salty presence residing on his tongue. His eyes fell to the red headed boy, fast asleep in his bed glancing at him heavily, not knowing what to do, or why such heaviness was residing like chains upon his heart. More wetness struck his lips and he huddled his knees to his chest, burying his head in his arms and wept silently within the privacy of his mind. A voice called out to him ever so softly, so kind, so angelic and he lifted his head to see the most beautiful sight in his view. The woman's eyes gazed at him fondly as she slowly began to come over to him.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
"Are you...?"
"I'm here Peter...I'm here."
"Mother?.." Peter's green eyes clashed with the woman's in front of him and filled him with warmth. That smell, smell of lilacs and primroses... "Peter..." the boy reached forwards, his arms longing to the wrap the woman to his body. "Peter....Peter. Peter! Peter!!"
Suddenly a force shook him dolefully and the room melted, blowing away like grains of sand from his view until he found himself lying on a sidewalk, staring up into the cloudless sky, watching the birds skirt over head. The voice cried out again. Urgently, oh so very urgent and he finally found the face of the figure calling down to him.
"Peter! Peter can you hear me?!" The voice was a muck with panic and full of the venom of worry.
"Wendy?" "Peter!! Thank the heavens." She cried, helping the lad into a sitting position. "Are you alright?"
After a moment of regaining his bearings, he nodded, offering a half smile that Wendy knew well was anything beyond genuine.
"Peter, what happened?" she asked supporting his arms as he stood on his own two feet.
Wendy watched him carefully, observing that he was tossing around in his head whether he should speak or just keep all this to himself. He would open his mouth then it would shut and finally, he shut it for good, offering only that half smile that, she would find, would become a daily occurrence over the duration of the next several days.
"I'm not sure. Nothing out of the ordinary and I will be fine."
After one last, fleeting glance towards the book in the window, he traversed the opposite direction, heading away from Dunbar. Wendy just watched him go, worry gamboling upon the blue surface within her eyes.
"Peter, I had Mrs. Whitmore make this especially for you." Wendy said, handing him a white box with a black bow.
They were now seated in her room on the edge of her bed. Peter grimaced down at the box knowing some kind of nuisance of a garment laid inside. However, when the box lid was lifted, he was astonished to find a variation of his Neverland attire staring back at him. His eyes pooled into Wendy with perplexity and she couldn't help but smile. The garment was the green color of the skeleton leaves which made his normal outfit and it had cleverly been made to look like leaves although in a moderate fashion. The sleeves of the garment were short and slightly frilled at the ends, making it seem as though it were crudely crafted and yet it was quite smoothly English based. His knickers were the same color, stopping directly below his knees where the green tights took their place. There were also shoes the Peter scowled at however, when picking one up from its place with in the confides of the box, he came to recognize the green shoe was more like a slipper then anything else. Peter gazed at the handsome piece curiously then up at Wendy, smiling in approval. It of course wasn't his normal outfit but, in this world, it would indeed do. Even the shoes didn't seem to bother him.
"Shall I try it on?" Wendy nodded at the boy.
"If you please."
And so, Wendy found herself banished from her own room while she heard Peter move about from with in the four walls. It would be about ten minutes before the door would open once again and when they did, Wendy would be greeted with a very strange look upon the lad's face.
Wendy cocked her head in befuddlement. "Peter, what is it?"
Glancing down at his attire and then at the girl once again, his brow knit pensively. "They don't fit to well." He exclaimed, pointing out how tight the material was around his chest and also, that the knickers rose an inch above where they should have rested upon his knee.
Wendy bent down, staring at the garments in perplexity. "I don't understand it." She told him, glancing into his face from the floor. "These are the exact same measurements that Mrs. Whitmore took just a few days ago."
She sighed in regret, becoming very disappointed. "I suppose that you are just going to have to wear your normal attire." She informed him beginning to leave the room. "I'll wait for you outside the door."
It was even more time that passed as Peter redressed and she was beginning to wonder what was keeping him when the door to the bedroom finally alighted and he immerged, though he was not alone, the look that had lit his face was now ever odder then the first.
"What is it?"
Gathering his thoughts and glancing down at his garments once again before looking at Wendy, he said not a word, just pointed to his knees. Following his finger, Wendy found Peter's knickers to be exactly one inch above his knee. Her mouth fell in astonishment, taking a step backwards from the lad, her hand finding its way to her chest.
"Its not possible." She whispered to the air glancing over at him with new found eyes. She found exactly what she had been searching for in a matter of seconds.
"Peter, you've, you've grown."
'Look at earth from outer space, every one must find a place. Give me time and give me space ...wounds that heal and cracks that fix, tell me your own politic'
-Coldplay-
Wendy met her mother's eye tentively. Although preparing herself for the worst she was shocked indeed to see her mother glowering at her, a frosty chill webbing across the iris of her eyes. Wendy felt her eyes sting and she cast them to the tiles below her feet in abashment .
It was at this precise moment that Mrs. Darling found Peter "hiding" in a corner of shadows near the arch of the door. She became taken back for he was most certainly not the same way she remembered he appearance. He was taller now, well built with a toned copper that gleamed in the sunlight. His hair had mellowed from its fury of his early youth to a subtle dusty, summer blonde. However, she could still sense the same presence. Despite the fact he now stood before her, attired in the garments of an English gentleman, there was still that glow about him. The locks of liquid sun that dripped out from under the brim of his gray hat and the mischievous glimmer pouring from the chrysalis of his orbs. The ones that told tales of adventures. Summers dancing with Indians, nights chasing the stars and endless hours singing with the fairies or battling pirates. She remembered it all with such crystal clarity. This wild boy, this untamed creature, the one that could fly and charm anyone with a heart to give, this one who had whisked Wendy's spirit her very soul away to his magical world and there it had remained as he had never returned it. Yes, this one called Peter Pan...Peter Pan of Neverland.
"I can explain." Came the soft and mellow tone that turned the older woman's attention back to her child and the problem at hand.
It wasn't as if she were mad at the girl for carefully hiding the boy, she could understand why she would and she could easily understand both sides of the coin however, it didn't matter to her...what cut Mrs. Darling to the quick, was that her sweet, loving, darling, honest, Wendy had lied to her. Oh and not just any lie, mind you, it was the worst kind. It was bold faced. Looking at her now, she could see the pain behind the girl's eyes, the shame and regret but it didn't change the fact and Mrs. Darling knew that it was going to be hard for both of them now.
She nodded curtly.
"Wendy, why is it that you felt it absolutely necessary to lie to me?!" Without waiting for a response, she tossed another question upon the girl's shoulders. She did not mean to be it was spat out as if spoiled milk had touched her tongue.
"What is the truth?!"
Wendy chocked back a sob lightly, her eyes filling with a thin sheet of glass.
"Four days ago, I heard a noise coming from the hall outside the door of my bedroom. When I went to investigate, I came about an intruder in the house hold. After grappling with him a bit, I prevailed, only to come to the realization that it was Peter..."
"Pan." Mrs. Darling finished.
A downhearted 'Yes' was the reply. Wendy's tear filled eyes met her mother's crisp ones in bereavement.
"I didn't know what to do or say, so I concocted a story and Peter, he followed however, it's not his fault, none of it is. When I fought him the other night I wounded him and John, John agreed to take a look at it then told him that he was to stay in London for the next three days. Peter was suppose to have left last night and I wasn't lying when I said he did for he had full intentions of flying away to the edge of the stars but somehow, I suppose throughout everything, he forgot his way and is now stuck in London. I am so sorry I didn't tell you I just..."
"Wendy its fine." Mrs. Darling assured, and she felt her heart twinge with guilt. She sighed heavily nodding to herself.
"He may remain in this household for as long as he wants, that still holds fast in my mind. Wendy, I have never had a problem with this and I trust the boy however, it is you whom I am having doubts about now."
Wendy could not stop the tears from seeping from her eyes, coursing down her cheeks forlornly. Mrs. Darling found herself looking away from the tears that were trying to ripe at her soul while she finished exacting her punishment.
"Therefore, I am assigning the boy to watch you, he will go with you where ever you go until I find trust with in you again. Is this clear?"
She nodded once for running towards the stairs and towards the door to her room. Both Peter and Mrs. Darling watched her go and with that, Mrs. Darling sighed, sinking silently into her chair. Her eyes drifted out the window, calmly watching the rain beat against the glass panes. She glanced over at the younger slowly, her glassy eyes singing a lamentation to the air.
"Go check on her for me?"
Without a word, for they were not needed, Peter nodded, heading for the second door to the right in the upper portion of the house. He did not bother with the stairs, instead, he rose in the air, twisting over the banister to the wooden boards on the opposite side.
The brilliance almost blinded him as the door opened in front of him however, he found the ambiance greeting him on the other side oddly refreshing. Peter watched the sun place it's ameliorate arms around the girl staring out the window. Noting the boy guardian, it nodded its head in concern, flashing him a silent message before drifting gently away, joining with some clouds in the sky, leaving the duo all alone in a mass sung to the lingering silence caught with in the expansion of the heavens above.
Peter felt his heart churn inside his chest as he watched. Wendy hadn't sounded like she was crying at all, however, at the first hint of a glass bead falling to the oak floor bellow to the solace splash that rang through out his ears, singing its soft lullaby, his heart shredded and for the first time, he felt the world did not belong to him. He had no control and his feet began to feel like lead under him.
"Wendy?" Peter wanted to whisper but, couldn't find his voice to do so, it had fled out the window in search of the sunshine, riding his own shadow's back to catch up.
His eyes drifted to the floor, meshing with the hard wood flooring below. His eyes stung as the swirled endlessly in things that he had been trying to fight remembering since the moment he had entered into that nursery door for the very first time in six years. Now, they came and hit him fully and as they did, a manasury of forgotten feelings over took his senses and his heart began to yearn for the pain to be carried away to some distant reign, banished forever, never to return again. Little did Peter know, this was just the beginning of everything that was yet to follow in its footsteps.
The boy floated over to the bed where Wendy had settled, stretching his hand impulsively towards the girl before it came to rest consolingly upon her shoulder. Moments more of silence and the sands of time seemed to flow at a ridiculous pace, almost coming to a complete halt altogether. A fire of green melted into the mist of a deep blue sea pooling over a dam that just couldn't keep all the water from seeping from its corners.
Peter's eyes never adverted from hers as his hands found their way into her delicate, yet strong counterparts. After a visit to the sun, Peter's voice found its way back to its nesting once again.
"Wendy, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. Maybe it would have been better if..."
Smiling softly, she placed a reassuring finger upon the boy's lips in mid his sentence.
"No Peter, don't talk like that. I am glad you are here. You are the embodiment of all the great many, wonderful and exciting things that I have forgotten over time. And here they are again, in the very same air they left in."
For the time being, it did not even register on the young woman's mind that the very soul of arrogance, cockiness and youth was telling her that he was at fault. She simply dismissed it into oblivion. But fortunately for our Wendy, this would not be the first time that Peter would make a brush with reality but it is, for the time being, that Peter's quizzical glance and only the lingering numbness of lips on the side of his cheeks that would emboss the moment into the pages of times, and the corridors of memories.
The girl gazed at him fondly, smiling softly as gently brushed a wisp of gold from his forehead, her palm lingering on the side of his cheek when her eyes melted into his. The well that was there, the pain, confusion, fear, arrogance, mischief, kindness and fondness, drew her closer to him, bringing their worlds clashing in a tidal wave of feelings together into a pool of color, mystery and wonder.
It was the first time her mind spoke that simple and yet amazingly remarkable and bold statement. And it jumped to life before her eyes. And her eyes whispered it too him before they closed.
'I love you, Peter Pan.'
Wendy suddenly found herself once again, and breaking from her trance, she quickly glanced away, her cheeks creaming a rosy hue that she knew was too bright to hide. So instead of hiding it, she quickly rose from her bed, stating that it was quite late and that they should both retire for the evening. After bidding him goodnight, she proceeded to show Peter out of the room. Once done, she stood, huffing lightly, her back pressed firmly against the door.
Sighing to herself, she walked over to the starry night, watching two stars twinkle brightly down at her in all their glory and radiance. And on that star, second to the right and straight on till morning, she made a solemn wish based on all the hope and dreams burning within the core of her heart and all her good will.
"Please, Please, Please, let Peter find his way home."
A cool breeze answered, kissing Wendy's hair lightly with its tender touch, before wishing London a goodnight, twisting up towards the heavens and to that magical place that would always capture her soul at the very mention of its name....Neverland.
She sighed, shutting the shutters before blowing out her candle's light until only a black wisp of smoke smoldered in the stale air around...and the tongue of hope died with it.
Peter stared out the window at the stars for hours before finally alighting to bed. That night, a restless slumber fell upon the lad and he tossed and turned endlessly.
He was on cobblestone street, consumed in a dense fog. People moved to and fro in front of him. The ambiance of the air seemed thick, haunting and anxious. Peter's eyes darted through out the crowds trying to find a light somewhere in amongst the gray. There was nothing, as far as the eye could see. Just a colorless world full of nothingness and a void of individuality. Everyone wore the same thing as everyone else. Black this, gray that, drained of who they once were.
The boy's heart begin to pound heavily, beating against everything this place was. It beat viciously to find life, just a breath of it...anywhere. Suddenly, just as Peter had almost given up hope, the crowds parted and she lifted her head, gazing at him from a far, her radiant eyes sparkling a brilliant blue at him. She was attired in her white night gown, her curly auburn hair glowing in the light that was seeming to protrude from her very own being.
"Peter..." her voice called, ringing sweetly through his ears.
Her mouth smiled, easing his heart and he felt the chains around his legs fall to the ground below as he watched on. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, and she broke his view. The glow around the girl suddenly began to dull and Peter found himself shaking his head profusely.
"No..."
The void of color began to seep into her skin, sucking all the glow from around her. Slowly, Peter watched in horror as her skin began to turn a soft, mournful shade of gray, and the childish face that he remembered oh so well, began to melt into an adult form, the beautiful peach tint melting into the background as the world took over. Wendy gazed at Peter sadly Through her crystal blue orbs and for and instant, he could hear her soul calling out to him.
"Peter..."
His mouth fell and he shook his head absently, the weight of all the gray crashing upon his shoulders, crowding in as he just helplessly watched her.
"No...no, please...Wendy..."
The girl's eyes faded away into the void of nothingness, the voice of life disappearing from her eyes, melting away from her being and she began to walk away...disappearing into the void, melting in with the rest of the mold surrounding her until she was nothing more then another face in the lifeless crowd.
"Wendy!! No! Don't listen! Ignore them!!! Please!...Wendy!!!!...Wendy!!!...
"Wendy!!!!" Peter cried, bolting aright at the window ledge where he had fallen asleep.
A beads of perspiration dripped from his temple, running its course down his cheek melting with his cheek. Catching his breath, he glanced up at the stares, gazing at the second star longingly. London was a place of mystery to him however, he knew, if stayed for too much longer, he was going to remember all that he had striven to forget and he....he had to find a way back...he just had too. His eyes growing suddenly heavy, the shut out the world along with its problems and set backs, settling into a dreamless sleep that carried him through the rest of the night.
Peter counted the cracks on the sidewalk as he traveled further and further down its narrow path leading into the next block, continuing the gray. He and Wendy had traveled into town that morning for she had some business to attend to at Marion's department store. However, Peter's mind had been consumed with the dream he had envisioned the night before and it had distanced him considerably for that day.
His eyes didn't glow with the same exuberance, they remained relatively blank, dull to all the world, gazing at everything through a discolored lens to the world that had so blatantly become his reality. Wendy had noticed but hadn't uttered a single word about it. Instead, she left him on the side walk, in the vicinity as she took care of her errand, allowing time to maybe cogitate. She knew that this was far from easy for him and her heart wrenched every time she thought about it.
After promising that he would stay in the surrounding areas and that he would behave, she had run off and for the last hour and a half, he had been drifting in circles around the block that was Dunbar and Bayswater streets. He had paced around it at least fourteen times already, not really paying much attention and not learning anything new at all, except for the fact that there were indeed exactly fourteen cracks in the midst of each side walk and forty-two bricks lining each side of the walks making it a grand total of eighty-four all together for each side.
He sighed, glancing up at the street sign over head. The intersecting line between Bayswater and Dunbar, and above that rose a two story building with an abandoned window staring down at him with a pleading air about it. Wisps of the ancient curtains, light blue as a matter a fact, blew towards him, whispering in secret as if trying to tell him the reason they were abandoned in the first place. Something in his heart caused his soul to cry out and he found himself being hypnotically beckoned closer towards it ghostly presence.
He didn't understand it, for it was, after all, just a window, but it was just that this window didn't' seem in the slightest a bit ordinary and it was all things mysterious that always would catch Peter's attention...it didn't really matter what they were. He could hear an air about it and a haunting voice that called out to him softly, speaking of stories and great adventures that were once told with in those four walls above.
Finding himself in front of the entrance, his gaze met with the brown door standing in his path and with out thinking, his palm reached forwards, twisting the door knob slowly, cracking it slightly. A stale and musty air greeted Peter's nostrils and when it did, his heart skipped a beat with in his chest begging him to pull back, pinching his consciousness tightly in warning and yet his adventurous legs begged to trudge forwards even more so. Suddenly, a clearing of someone's throat alerted him to another presence and he turned his head wearily, coming face to face with the bobby from the previous day.
"Can I help Ye lad?" he asked rising a suspicious brow.
"Do you know who it is that this particular window belongs to?"
Suddenly loosing all his weariness, the officer smiled fondly nodding.
"Aye. No one now lad. However, several years ago, a small family of three use to inhabit it. The nicest of people you ever did want to meet, a lovely bunch really. It was a husband, a wife and their young child." He laughed. "I can't remember much about them really, only that the misses was quite unusual. She was a lovely woman, both in appearance and heart. gifted was she, with the most attractive singing voice. I never met someone with so much life and spirit." Pausing, he chuckled before adding. "well except maybe their kid."
Curiosity getting the better of him, Peter stepped forwards, not realizing until later, what the consequences of his actions could possibly mean for him.
"What happened to them?"
"Tragic really. That family suffered some sort of family crises and abandoned the house shortly there after. I have never seen them since myself."
"Just how long ago has that been?"
"Oh, I'd say bout twenty-two years. My, my doesn't time just fly? Well, I best be getting back to me duties. Good day to ye lad."
Peter just watched him disappear around the corner of the street, into the dank alley that he and Wendy had encountered the week previously. Sighing yet again, he turned away from the corner, coursing down the main walkway of Bayswater.
The wind breathed his name lightly through his hair. It knew something was very wrong with the young guardian. However, they dared not ask nor did Peter dare off to admit anything, no not even hint of it for that would mean in the end he would have to face...so they just walked in silence for a few moments, the wind keeping its ears open in case the floods from behind his eyes finally broke. This was not to be on this occasion however and the dubious breeze departed from him soon after.
Peter's nose remained faceted to the walkway, although every once and a while, his eyes would surface and he'd find himself staring into different shops and cafés along the road. He paid no never mind to them really, until that is, his eyes fell to a lone book lounging lazily in a bookstore window, a light sheen of dust covering its leather binding from being left undisturbed for a certain amount of time. And in gold letters, boldly embossed across the top of the codex, was the title, The Fairy Tales of George MacDonald.
Peter's palms found their way to the glass, pressing lightly as the book seemed to whisper to him and for a second time he felt the air around him swirling into a mass of a million colors. Everything around him seemed almost surreal and he couldn't decipher reality from the dream.
He heard the gay laughter of a child echoing inside his head and before he could question what it was or what was happening to him, He found himself standing on a frozen street of London in the dark of night. The only thing illuminating the sleepy city, were slight glow of the street lights. And from within their crystal domains, they shone like captured stars. Silver flakes fell from their heavenly abodes, showering the earth in their mystical blankets of enchantment.
Peter watched his breath puff from his mouth in light spindles of white silk and he found his eyes drifting curiously over his surroundings. A single, white light, seemingly different from everything else called out to him and he glanced up at window. He could see the curtain swaying lightly in the updraft that had shadowed all of London.
The nightlight laughed along with the young child sitting up in his bed, watching his mother as her eyes would move in such a gallant way as she described to him exactly how enormous this or that was. Her delicate hands moved in a steady rhythm as she related all that was mysterious and unknown to this world and again, the boy would laugh.
Peter Pan, apparently forgetting about the people surrounding him, rose from the ground, carrying himself to the window and the lift of the wind. After thanking it, he stepped off on the edge of the balcony, being sure not to get to terribly close so as not to be detected, though close enough to hear. And to what he heard, the feeling of melting merged into the depths of his mind.
He sat in mid air, cross legged, his thoughts ruptured by the sound of the sweetness echoing from the woman's voice. The sound of an angel on earth. The lady was beautiful in appearance, her green eyes clear and vibrant. A well of soul and emotion were captured in their ocean and she had perfect control and balance of them. And when she smiled, a hidden token of her beauty became clearly visible: her hidden kiss, chaste and more beauteous then all the elegance in the entire world.
Peter watched on, her sparkling eyes would every so often twinkling mystically as if she were the two stars shining down upon him in the sky and a strange feeling of comfort rushed over him, leaving him tingling electrically in something he just couldn't understand. Her lilting laugh filled the remarkable ambiance. Light as feather but with the strength of rushing water. And for the first time, Peter felt the weight of London lifted from his shoulders.
The young red headed boy watched her eagerly, almost greedily, as to see what story she would speak of next. She picked up a large, leather bound book. The pages were mused quite a bit with the passing of time and there were several stains that had stricken its contents from white long ago. She opened it to about the mid of the book. Brushing a stray strand of creamy mahogany from her face, she smiled at the child in front of her.
"At the Back of the North Wind. 'I have been asked to tell you about the back of the north wind. An old Greek writer mentions a people who lived there, and were so comfortable that they could not bear it any longer, and drowned themselves. My story is not the same as his. I do not think Herodotus had got the right account of the place. I am going to tell you how it fared with a boy who went there. He lived in a low room over a coach-house; and that was not by any means at the back of the north wind, as his mother very well knew. For one side of the room was built only of boards, and the boards were so old that you might run a penknife through into the north wind. And then let them settle between them which were the sharper! I know that when you pulled it out again the wind would be after it like a cat after a mouse, and you would know soon enough you were not at the back of the north wind. Still, this room was not very cold, except when the north wind blew stronger than usual: the room I have to do with now was always cold, except in summer, when the sun took the matter into his own hands. Indeed, I am not sure whether I ought to call it a room at all; for it was just a loft where they kept hay and straw and oats for the horses...'
"Mother..." the boy interrupted only into the second paragraph of the story, of which he had heard before many times and could recite by heart.
The young woman paused in good nature, gazing at her son fondly.
"What is it my love? Do you not wish to hear about the boy and the north wind tonight?"
The lad shook his head vigorously, procuring a very mischievous gleam in his eyes that, well could be considered very naughty at times. She smiled broadly, knowing well what her son's mind was saying to hear in their secret language.
"Captain Hook then?"
The lad nodded again.
"Yes! Oh do tell an adventure of captain Hook and The boy hero."
Shutting the book, the woman nodded exuberantly.
"Very well. Peter, did I ever tell you of the time Captain Jas. Hook met the mermaids for the very first time?"
"I do not believe so." Came the reply.
The light danced across her eyes and they began to twinkle with the swirl of Neverland. "It was late in the eve, just before night fall, and dusk loomed thickly in the air, creating an eerie atmosphere. The mermaids loved this time of the evening and could often be seen as the moon was beginning to rise over the west of the islands." "Oh how lovely." Peter interjected sitting up a little straighter. "I bet they were such a lovely sight."
"Now Peter, this you must know, these mermaids are not like the ones in the story books. These mermaids are creatures of the dark and their hearts reside in a pool of blackness for unexpecting prey. Their eyes are quite hypnotic and if you were to gaze into them for a long enough period or get too terribly close, they'd kindly drown you." Peter's eyes widened, his face going a tad to the pale side and he gripped his covers tighter waiting for his mother to continue. "They were also the only creatures who knew about every going on in the circle of the islands. From the great masts of the Jolly Roger to the nests high above the tree tops, where the never birds resided. And so it was, they were the first to hear about the arrival of the great ship that had newly set berth in Pirate's cove. Now these creatures were also quite curious, much like everything else in the Neverlands, and it was to them, that they revel on every new thing that came about.
It was about this time of eve on the Jolly Roger that the Capt. Had finished with his supper and while it was usual for the crews to be below deck singing a carol of song for the open seas and their conquests, tonight the Capt. Didn't join in. Instead, he found himself on the main deck, staring into the murky waters of the never deep. Spindles of smoke bellowed from his double cigars and danced with the tethered wind. As he watched he saw the water swirl around in circles, as if a fire was burning deeply within the belly of the ocean. Moments later, a thing void of shape began to surface catching the captain's attention readily. And as he watched on the figure did take shape, breeching the water finally and melting its deceptive eyes within the blueness of forget-me-nots. Thus it was that Capt. Jas. Hook first set eyes on a mermaid and that the mermaids first set eyes on him. How it was that Hook was not in the slightest effected by the mermaid's hypnotic powers or that they were not at all intimidated by his overbarrence was almost beyond comprehension. Perhaps it was the simple fact that both the mermaids and the Capt. Shared in common. They were both equally dark hearted. And that is the story of how the island's two darkest creatures came to be together. The mermaids frequented Pirate's cove several times, always curious to get a glimmer of this man...and as always, no words were spoken, they just stared for a good period before they would dash off again." The woman smiled glancing over at her sleeping son. She leaned over kissing his forehead, leaving a light trace of red on the creases of his brow.
"Good night little one." To the nightlights, she whispered, "Sweet nightlights, burn clear and bright, protect my precious one tonight."
Peter watched her retreat from the room, meeting a taller man at the door and a kiss was placed meekly upon his lips. As the two moved from the door way the corridor, Peter felt a strange wetness sink to the corner of his lip and a salty presence residing on his tongue. His eyes fell to the red headed boy, fast asleep in his bed glancing at him heavily, not knowing what to do, or why such heaviness was residing like chains upon his heart. More wetness struck his lips and he huddled his knees to his chest, burying his head in his arms and wept silently within the privacy of his mind. A voice called out to him ever so softly, so kind, so angelic and he lifted his head to see the most beautiful sight in his view. The woman's eyes gazed at him fondly as she slowly began to come over to him.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
"Are you...?"
"I'm here Peter...I'm here."
"Mother?.." Peter's green eyes clashed with the woman's in front of him and filled him with warmth. That smell, smell of lilacs and primroses... "Peter..." the boy reached forwards, his arms longing to the wrap the woman to his body. "Peter....Peter. Peter! Peter!!"
Suddenly a force shook him dolefully and the room melted, blowing away like grains of sand from his view until he found himself lying on a sidewalk, staring up into the cloudless sky, watching the birds skirt over head. The voice cried out again. Urgently, oh so very urgent and he finally found the face of the figure calling down to him.
"Peter! Peter can you hear me?!" The voice was a muck with panic and full of the venom of worry.
"Wendy?" "Peter!! Thank the heavens." She cried, helping the lad into a sitting position. "Are you alright?"
After a moment of regaining his bearings, he nodded, offering a half smile that Wendy knew well was anything beyond genuine.
"Peter, what happened?" she asked supporting his arms as he stood on his own two feet.
Wendy watched him carefully, observing that he was tossing around in his head whether he should speak or just keep all this to himself. He would open his mouth then it would shut and finally, he shut it for good, offering only that half smile that, she would find, would become a daily occurrence over the duration of the next several days.
"I'm not sure. Nothing out of the ordinary and I will be fine."
After one last, fleeting glance towards the book in the window, he traversed the opposite direction, heading away from Dunbar. Wendy just watched him go, worry gamboling upon the blue surface within her eyes.
"Peter, I had Mrs. Whitmore make this especially for you." Wendy said, handing him a white box with a black bow.
They were now seated in her room on the edge of her bed. Peter grimaced down at the box knowing some kind of nuisance of a garment laid inside. However, when the box lid was lifted, he was astonished to find a variation of his Neverland attire staring back at him. His eyes pooled into Wendy with perplexity and she couldn't help but smile. The garment was the green color of the skeleton leaves which made his normal outfit and it had cleverly been made to look like leaves although in a moderate fashion. The sleeves of the garment were short and slightly frilled at the ends, making it seem as though it were crudely crafted and yet it was quite smoothly English based. His knickers were the same color, stopping directly below his knees where the green tights took their place. There were also shoes the Peter scowled at however, when picking one up from its place with in the confides of the box, he came to recognize the green shoe was more like a slipper then anything else. Peter gazed at the handsome piece curiously then up at Wendy, smiling in approval. It of course wasn't his normal outfit but, in this world, it would indeed do. Even the shoes didn't seem to bother him.
"Shall I try it on?" Wendy nodded at the boy.
"If you please."
And so, Wendy found herself banished from her own room while she heard Peter move about from with in the four walls. It would be about ten minutes before the door would open once again and when they did, Wendy would be greeted with a very strange look upon the lad's face.
Wendy cocked her head in befuddlement. "Peter, what is it?"
Glancing down at his attire and then at the girl once again, his brow knit pensively. "They don't fit to well." He exclaimed, pointing out how tight the material was around his chest and also, that the knickers rose an inch above where they should have rested upon his knee.
Wendy bent down, staring at the garments in perplexity. "I don't understand it." She told him, glancing into his face from the floor. "These are the exact same measurements that Mrs. Whitmore took just a few days ago."
She sighed in regret, becoming very disappointed. "I suppose that you are just going to have to wear your normal attire." She informed him beginning to leave the room. "I'll wait for you outside the door."
It was even more time that passed as Peter redressed and she was beginning to wonder what was keeping him when the door to the bedroom finally alighted and he immerged, though he was not alone, the look that had lit his face was now ever odder then the first.
"What is it?"
Gathering his thoughts and glancing down at his garments once again before looking at Wendy, he said not a word, just pointed to his knees. Following his finger, Wendy found Peter's knickers to be exactly one inch above his knee. Her mouth fell in astonishment, taking a step backwards from the lad, her hand finding its way to her chest.
"Its not possible." She whispered to the air glancing over at him with new found eyes. She found exactly what she had been searching for in a matter of seconds.
"Peter, you've, you've grown."