My Darling Love

Chapter 21 – Drawing Disaster

"Good bankers, like good tea, can only be appreciated when they are in hot water."

-Jaffar Hussein

That night was the first time Wendy met Peter Pan in person. She was pleasantly dreaming of dancing with a proper young gentleman when she felt someone touch her lips.

Before Wendy opened her eyes, she saw her father in her mind. He had just kissed her mother. He waved good-bye and was off to work. Mary turned around and shut the door looking off into the kitchen. Wendy, in her mind's eye, waited at the top of the stairs gazing down at her mother with much wonder. Mary's feet were rooted to the spot she stood and would not move until she felt her mouth and made sure her kiss was still there. Wendy believed, even in her dream, her mother's action was simply to make sure the cowardly king didn't steal the kiss away from her; after all she was saving it for the pirate captain that was to rescue her. But that was not the case at all; Mary wanted to make sure George left her a kiss that she would be able to remember him by all day while he was gone from her side.

Wendy opened her eyes, and there he was, plain as day, floating above her bed in mid-air. When he saw her eyes open, he bolted to the window and out into the night. No one else was awake but Nana, who gave chase.

The next morning, no one in the house seemed to be aware of Peter Pan's entrance into the nursery through the window.Mary gave her children their breakfast and then took them to the market with her. Soon, they would be back to school after their Christmas holidays, but for now, to Mary, the children were all babies that she could spoil again.

"When you return to school, Wendy, you will begin your lessons with Aunt Millicent," George told his daughter over supper, Aunt Millicent grinning with pride at her niece as the words hit Wendy like an arrow through the heart.

"But I am not ready to grow up!" Wendy pleaded with her mother after dinner while she readied for bed.

"Wendy Darling, all children must grow up."

Peter visited her again, then again, night after night, and she told him her stories, all ending happily with a kiss. Peter had no idea what a kiss was, nor the emotions it signified, but he listened to the sword fighting and battling. He had met Captain Hook and told her that her mother would be much happier married to an evil pirate captain than to her wimpy father. "I hate Captain Hook," he told her one night. "He's the most evil and cruel man alive in all the world, but he is no scaredy-cat. I've seen him gut people from neck to navel, and he is the best with a sword, not as good as I, but then -- no one is. Plus he's very wealthy; your mother would live like a queen. You and your brothers could come to Neverland and never have to grow up, ever. We could trick your mother into coming, too, and then she could be rescued by Captain Hook, and he will sail off with her onto the seven seas," Peter suggested.

"Yes, but first they will kiss. She will give him her kiss as a reward for being so brave and then we all will live happily ever after." Wendy agreed.

On the night before she was to return to school and begin her lessons, lessons on how to behave like a proper young woman, Wendy introduced her brothers to Peter and their plot to free Mary from being their father's maid. They were just as eager as she, and approved. "Mother will be so happy!" Michael jumped up and down on his bed as he chimed in.

"Is Captain Hook handsome?" Wendy asked Peter, as he was about to depart. "I cannot have mother married to someone ugly. I do not think my father is at all handsome. He wears spectacles. I hope Captain Hook has no need to wear them. Mother should be married to a man that is very attractive with perfect eyesight. And he should have the proper posture, father always walks around and even sits straight as a board, almost like he is afraid all the time or extremely nervous. Mother should be married to a man that is more at ease, yes and is not afraid to fight someone hand to hand if he had to at a moment's notice," she said.

"He is tall and commanding," Peter replied, after some thought, "and walks around his ship yelling and screaming at his men. Nothing scares him and nothing makes him nervous, he has an answer for everything. He thinks himself smart. Captain Hook has a deep voice, long black curly hair and eyes blue as forget-me-nots. He does have a hook instead of a right hand, so he cannot fight another hand to hand, but I think that only makes him more dangerous, and willing to protect what's his with more confidence." He shrugged. "But if your mother is a queen, I'm sure he will never use it against her. He is old and alone, if your mother's smile is as beautiful and lovely as you say, I'm certain he would be happy and nice. He doesn't wear glasses, and I know he has good eyes, for he sees everything, even things that are hidden. He says he hates children, but that won't matter because once he has your mother, he will sail away with her and we will never have to see him again."

That was the only part that bothered Wendy.

"But she will not want to leave us behind, she still thinks of us as her babies," John interrupted.

"Yes, and mother and Captain Hook will have babies together as well, maybe I will have a sister. Mother says that after two people get married they have a baby," Wendy added.

Michael chimed, "Maybe a brother and a sister, and we can baby-sit like Grandpa Joe!"

"Yes," Peter replied standing before the children with his arm crossed, "your mother will have a baby with Captain Hook, and we can take it away with us as well. That is an even better plan. But Captain Hook will still want to sail away with your mother without you, but only for a short while."

Wendy clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Oh how marvelous for mother, a honeymoon too and then a baby! Father said mother should not have any more children, even though I want a sister. Captain Hook will give mother a baby."

That settled it for Wendy and her brothers. Now, with their scheme arranged, Peter told them he would be back the very next night to collect them all and travel to Neverland. "Make sure you leave the nursery window open, even though it is cold. If your mother shuts it after putting you to bed, just open it again." Peter Pan explained.

Wendy spoke, as Peter was about to take flight, "My Aunt Millicent says I should have my own room, what if I am not in the nursery tomorrow night?"

Peter looked about the room and then peeked outside. "Where will you be, Wendy? I cannot go without you." Wendy went to the door and slowly opened it, pointing the Grandpa Joe's room down the hall. "I will find you, as long as you are in this house," Peter reassured her, stepping out into the night sky.

"Only, Peter, do not waken my parents, theirs is the room next to ours. The front window of the house."

Peter nodded, and leapt out into the night sky, "I know..." he whispered.

Wendy and her brothers went back to school the next day. As creative as Wendy was with her stories, she was just as imaginative with her art. She was gifted in her drawing, although she preferred to be a novelist. But still, with a single piece of paper and a pencil, she could draw a piece worthy of her own wall in a museum.

This time, when she should have been studying her lessons, she was drawing a detailed sketch of her mother kissing Captain Hook. The drawing did not look as innocent to others as she saw it through her own eyes. Her mother rested on a bed of roses with her eyes closed as if she were sleeping beauty. Captain Hook lay on top of her just about to touch her lips to his. (Wendy drew his shirt open with hairy chest because it always caused Aunt Millicent to fan herself whenever the trashy novels she read mentioned the hero having a hairy chest seen exposed to a damsel's eyes.)

"What is that?" Mrs. Dash demanded, as she glared down at Wendy's drawing. Wendy was speechless as the drawing was snatched from her desk and brought to the front of the class. "We shall speak about THIS," (Mrs. Dash gave a disgusted look, appraising Wendy's art) "after class, Wendy Darling!"

After class, Wendy slowly approached her teacher's aghast frown. "What is this drawing??" Mrs. Dash asked, holding out the sheet. She held her nose up away from it as if it stunk of rotted garbage.

"It's a drawing of a lovely queen who is under the spell of a wicked witch."

Mrs. Dash looked back to the paper and then up to Wendy. "Well, if this is a queen, who is the man lying on top of her, and why, Wendy Darling, is he lying on top of her? Have you seen something like this take place in your home? And if so, who? Have you see your mother and father interact in this manner? And further more young lady, what sort of spell requires a man to lie on top of a woman in such a way as offensive as this?"

"Captain Hook..." Wendy whispered. "And he is about to give the queen a kiss that will break the spell she's trapped under. I've never seen my parents kiss in that way, I just think that is what a pirate captain must do to break the spell. The spell ... the queen is being punished for the letting the king get her in trouble."

"Oh yes, that's correct, you are the child of George Darling and Mary Baker, now I remember ... the scandal," Mrs. Dash sneered. "I see, go back to your desk Wendy. I will be writing to your father this very minute. You ought to be ashamed to draw such foul things."

On her way back to her desk, head lowered, Wendy whispered, "I thought it was quite lovely."

Wendy might be almost a woman, but she still had the mind of a small child, naïve and unseeing as to what the more sophisticated eyes could see. Mrs. Dash penned a letter to George Darling at his place of work, and forwarded the picture that his eldest child and only daughter drew. She grimaced at Wendy when she dismissed her, and sent the messenger on his way with her direction, "You are to give this promptly to Mr. George Darling as his place of business." He took flight into the streets and Wendy followed slowly to the corner, where she was to meet Nana and her brothers.

The messenger had other duties, and instead of going promptly to Mr. Darling, he dropped off his other dispatches first. This was quite a bit of luck for Wendy, for she saw him strolling along on his way to the bank. She called after him and, unfortunately, he did not respond, only continued on to the bank.

Mary told the children all the time (Even now, her mother's words echoed in her ears), "You are never ever to visit father when he is working unless you are escorted my either myself or Grandpa Joe." They always begged to be allowed to peek into the adult world where their father made his living, having had such an interesting time the last time they were there.

Wendy stood before the doors of the bank and watched the messenger speak with the guardsman at the front desk. Had her father been at his desk, maybe she would have faltered and accepted defeat. But, only a few steps away from where the messenger stood, George was standing with and speaking some other businessmen. The guardsman pointed to Mr. George Darling and as the messenger turned towards Mr. Darling, to begin Wendy's death march, sealing her fate. Suddenly she was struck with nerve and the need to survive. She blasted through the bank doors and screamed, "FATHER, PLEASE DON'T BE ANGRY! I CAN EXPLAIN! IT'S A QUEEN AND A VALIANT KNIGHT!"

George whipped about on his heels, eyes wide, as Wendy pushed people out of the way and came running at full speed towards him. She forgot about Nana, and the fact that Mary had instructed the children's trusted nurse with the same order about Mr. Darling and his place of work. Nana, in her attempt to save the day, slid into Wendy, knocking her over on the slippery polished marble floor and on, right into George, Sir Edmund Quiller Couch, the board members from the bank, and a multitude of bank customers.

There are no words to describe what happened next. John and Michael, who had desperately run after their sister, stood in the door of the bank, shocked, frozen in place. Nana began licking Sir Edward and then George, to ease the chaos that blew through the bank like a tornado, leaving destruction in its wake.

People began shouting at one another and demanding some sort of restitution for their ruined clothes and scattered money. There were papers strewn everywhere. With the bank in total disarray, the guardsman had no other choice than to lock the doors. In addition, there was a near riot in the street as crowds gathered in fear to withdraw all their funds. A representative was made to stand out front and tell all those gathered that it was a dog and a small girl that disrupted the normal daily routine of bank business. "Nothing is the matter with the bank, all is fine, just a small mess that needs to be cleaned up before we can reopen. Normal business hours will resume tomorrow if you would like to come in, but you have my sincerest assurances your money is safe inside. Again, just a small child and a family pet that lost their way into the bank, creating a mess on the floor that needs to be cleaned up before we can let anyone back inside, will only be a few more moments..."

George followed behind Sir Edmund Quiller Couch babbling apologies for his daughter's absurd and unacceptable behavior. Only a moment later, without his coat and hat, he returned to where Wendy, John, Michael and Nana were confined by the bank guard's station with a furious expression on his face. The children had never seen their father enraged, and this face surpassed any sternness they thought was possible of the cowardly king. He grabbed both Wendy and Nana by their collars and proceeded to drag them out the bank and all the way home.

As if what had transpired inside was not bad enough, the messenger handed Mr. Darling the letter from Mr. Dash in the street. "I was sent by the a teacher from the school your daughter attends to deliver this to you, Mr. Darling..."

George yanked Wendy and Nana the whole way home without stopping. As Mr. Baker had wished he could do on Mary's wedding day, George imagined throwing Wendy up the stairs into their house. He didn't, of course, but she did miss a step in his haste and scraped her knee, her father not stopping nor allowing Nana to lick it and make it better.

Mary was not home yet, "She's at the market, George. What are you doing home so early and what in blazes is going on?" Grandpa Joe answered his angry query, startled by George's sweaty and disheveled appearance.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM, JOHN AND MICHAEL! WENDY, YOU STAY RIGHT THERE," he shouted, first pointing to the stairs and then to the spot into which Wendy melted. "THE CHILDREN FELT IT NECESSARY TO COME TO MY OFFICE TODAY WITHOUT THEIR MOTHER, AND PAY ME A RATHER HUMILATING AND DEAR VISIT THAT MAY HAVE JUST COST ME MY JOB!" George roared, stalking to his chair at the desk.

Grandpa Joe eased the children with his hand from his seat instructing each of them to stay for a moment, until he could figure out the best course of action to take for the family's sake. George ripped open the letter from Mrs. Dash and read its contents. He gazed at the drawing Wendy had made and removed his spectacles putting his elbow on the desk and resting his head in his hands as he wiped his forehead. "Wendy, come here," he said in his normal calm tone until he caught sight of John and Michael still in the hall, "DID I NOT TELL YOU TO GO TO YOUR ROOM?"

John and Michael began to stutter something about Grandpa Joe which George countered, "I AM YOUR FATHER, NOT HIM," causing them to flee up the stairs and to their room in a heartbeat.

"Wendy, come here," George repeated, pointing the floor next to his chair. She approached him cautiously and only half the way to where he told her to stand he asked, "Is this your mother?" He turned to see her face and she nodded with tears in her eyes. "Where did you see this?" was his next question, which left Wendy, baffled.

She had not seen it, only in her mind. "I dreamed it, Father."

"Who is this then?" he asked, gazing back at the picture.

"It's Captain Hook," she responded, looking to Grandpa Joe for aid.

"From your stories, is that right?" Grandpa Joe remarked, walking up behind George and rereading Mrs. Dash's note. "Seems to me, Son, Wendy is not only an author but she is also an artist, and an inventive one at that." He smiled to George who kept his head bowed.

"Wendy, go to your room," George said, defeated, shaking his head, "and stay there with your brothers until your mother gets home." They did as they were told, and sat on their beds in silence waiting for the sound of the front door to open and the rescue they were to receive from the merciful queen.

Grandpa Joe stared at the picture. "You know George, if you had long curly hair and a very hairy chest with a hook for a right hand, you could be a pirate captain."

Aunt Millicent barged through the door in a frantic dash, without knocking, and headed straight to George, "George, I heard what happened only a second ago, have you been dismissed from your position? How will you afford to live, you will be made to go out on the street? And what of the children? Did you beat them? I hope you did not strike Wendy in her face, of the horror of a bruise on her delicate skin..."

George did not move from the chair and only hung his head with his eyes closed, shutting off the world and its noise. There he sat with Grandpa Joe and Aunt Millicent in the parlor, they too in silence, after George told them, "Not another word until Mary arrives home."

Nana was hiding in the doghouse up in the nursery, and the children watched as her ears perked up. The front door was unlatched, opened, and in walked Mary, unaware of the disaster of that afternoon. Her arms were full of groceries, and she took no notice of the family waiting for her arrival home. She struggled with the parcels, taking them into the kitchen, oblivious to the unusual lack of sounds in the house. After only a minute she called out, "Father, where are the children?"

That was their cue, and they came down the stairs running into the kitchen, almost knocking her from her feet, with their own story of what occurred at the bank. Aunt Millicent also swept into the kitchen, leaving Grandpa Joe and George sitting in the parlor.

Suddenly Mary screamed out, "WHAT!" and ran to where George sat. George did not look at his wife, only handing her Mrs. Dash's letter.

Dear Mr. Darling,

It has come to my attention that your daughter Wendy has an unusual interest of inappropriate behavior that is unacceptable in this school. I found her this very afternoon scribbling an illustration of a lascivious and salacious nature (please see the enclosed). I can only assume a young girl of that age must have been exposed to this sort of conduct at your home. I will leave her reprimand in your hands at this time, but if she continues with her descent into these sordid and appalling activities, I will be forced to report you to the authorities.

Your Humble Servant,

Mrs. Edwina Dash

"Good lord George, what was it a doodle of?" Mary asked as her husband handed her Wendy's art.

"She seems very skilled at capturing your likeness," George offered softly as he rose from his desk and walked up the stairs to his room. Mary followed after him and at the bottom of the stairs, still holding the picture of the lovely queen and Captain Hook, she watched him close the door and lock her and the children out.

"Did he lose his job?" Mary asked to anyone who was present.

"He didn't say, my dear, do you want me to go talk to him?" Grandpa Joe suggested holding his daughter's shoulder.

"No, let him be," she responded.

Mary turned to her father and whispered something in his ears, looking at him pointedly. He returned the look, and gazed up the stairs to her bedroom door. The children then got their first taste of what was to come in a few minutes. "I'm afraid that if he takes his hand to the children, he will harm them."

Grandpa Joe nodded his agreement and ascended the stairs to his room without looking to his grandchildren with the kindly eyes they wanted.

"Children, you are to go to the nursery and be punished. You will each be spanked by your grandfather for your horrid behavior this afternoon, and you will receive no supper tonight, and I'd better not hear anything but you doing your lessons and studying before bed," she told them severely, pointing up the stairs, she too without looking at them.

"But Wendy was the one who caused the ruckus!" Michael cast the blame.

"Did you know she was walking to your father's place of employment?" Mary asked Michael and John, who nodded that they knew bank was Wendy's intended destination. "And yet you did nothing to stop her?" They lowered their heads in submission, and started toward the stairs.

Aunt Millicent spoke up for the children, at least for Wendy, "Mary Elizabeth, is a beating for this small infraction really necessary? Think of poor Wendy, has she not suffered enough?"

Mary swung her head around to her aunt and, at the risk of sounding cruel, words were, "How we discipline the children in this house is none of your concern. If my words of warning are not enough, then a swift crack on their bottoms will teach them consequences for their total disregard for the rules of this family."

Grandpa Joe stood in his doorway with belt in hand, and nodded to his daughter he was ready. One by one the children went up the stairs and stood in a line outside. Michael went first, volunteering for the spanking, being the bravest. He walked in and pulled down his pants, leaving his buttocks exposed to Grandpa Joe, who whispered, "No, Michael, I would never take a belt to your bare bottom." Michael fixed his pants and Grandpa Joe bent him over the knee and cracked him one that made his littler grandson cry out. Next came John, who crunched up his face and bit his lip when the belt came down.

Wendy was last, but it was not to be Grandpa Joe who was to spank her, "I'm sorry, Mary Elizabeth, I could never hit you so young, and I can't spank Wendy either." He left it to Mary, who sat on the bed and stared at her eldest for what seemed to Wendy like the "forever" she had heard others speak about. Mary finally stood and discarded the belt and with her open hand smacked Wendy across her bottom as hard as she could manage, falling to her knees and begging God's forgiveness before Wendy even felt it. Wendy cried too, not from pain, but for her mother, who was obviously in agony. "Did you hurt your hand, Mother?" Wendy wept as she stood firmly in front of Mary, still on her knees.

"Go to your room Wendy..."

Mary knew why George had fled to their room: he was crying, heartbroken, when she entered to bring him dinner. He told her through his tears of the failure, humiliation and the shame of what happened at the bank. He hadn't lost his job, but was sure now that the promotion he had waited so long for and worked so hard at slipped through his fingers. As bad as it was, he was not angry with Wendy, only disappointed that he let down his family. He had hopes and aspirations that being manager would give him the financial security he wanted desperately for them all. "Your father would not have to move in with Aunt Millicent. We could sell this house and acquire a larger one with another bedroom. That way Wendy could have her own room, we would have a larger room, the boys would share theirs, and Grandpa Joe could still stay with us. We might even have gotten a home that had a guesthouse -- Grandpa Joe could even have some more privacy and not have to share the lavatory. I was hoping that with the extra money, we might even have enough left over to hire a servant or a cook to give you some rest. You are always so tired at the end of the day. We could have given Wendy a proper coming out party when she is eighteen in the spring, and we could send the boys for riding lessons..." All of George's dreams -- not for himself, but for his family -- ruined.

Mary hugged George and wiped his tears away. "We were invited to Sir Edmund's tomorrow evening for his annual dinner party. We will go and make our apologizes and dazzle them with small talk. We can still have all those things you want, my love, I swear to you. If there is a way, I will make it right." Then, to make sure her husband would have enough strength to show his face at work the next morning, she gave him the special kiss she kept stored for moments like these.

"Where are the children?" George asked finally.

"In their room. Grandpa Joe and I spanked them and sent them to bed with no supper." It was George who now cried out in sympathy, rolling away from his wife on his side, as if the two cracks with the belt and Mary's hand were coming down on his as well. "No Mary, you didn't spank them..." he sighed. "Why would you spank them, they are only children..." He rolled his eyes as he looked to her, his voice giving her hint of his annoyance with her decision.

Mary embraced him once more, at a loss for her actions but still feeling in her heart the reprimand for their deeds were deserving of them. "I'm sorry, George, but something had to be done to teach them once and for all that what they did was wrong and would not be tolerated. I think you need to be stricter with them. We are too permissive in this house, they must learn that they risk more than our invisible trust when they are careless in their games."

"I think you are right, I should be more strict and stern with them. They do not think much of me as a man, I'm sure. But still Mary, you should give the children their supper," he corrected. "Being spanked was punishment enough, its not good for the children to go to bed hungry."

George tapped her arm, "Go Mary, serve the children their supper and then send them to bed. I want to stay here for awhile alone."

"Alone George, why?" Mary asked. "I just need to think some things through Mary. I want to be alone to gather and compose my thoughts, that's all. I have a lot on my mind, and I need to do it alone without interruption. Manly things Mary, you understand."

George understood without question Mary's "womanly things" therefore, Mary rose from the bed and smiled, "Alright George." She left him in their room where he spent the rest of the night. The children ate their supper in silence with no dessert, took their baths and then went to bed. Grandpa Joe made each of them knock at their parent's bedchamber door and wish their father a good night. They did and he reciprocated the sentiment muffled through the door.

"Will father ever come out?" John asked Mary as she tucked him in.

"Yes, John."

"Does he not love us anymore?" Michael asked Mary as she kissed his forehead.

"No, Michael, your father will always love you. He is just disappointed in you and himself."

"And me? He must be very disappointed in me. He will never forgive me will he, Mother?" Wendy asked as Mary blew out the lamp in their room.

"Yes, Wendy, he is disappointed a little in all of us. But he has already forgiven you."

"Do you like me, Mother?" Wendy asked.

"Yes, Wendy, just like your father, I not only like you but will always love you."

Peter tapped at the nursery window that night. Wendy was the only one still awake and she opened it, but would not allow him in. "I've made my father very angry with me. Mother is with him, tonight is no good to escape, tomorrow, my father is going out to a party, my mother will stay with us," she informed him.

"Friday then, be ready at ten..." Peter agreed and took flight into the night sky.