My Darling Love
Chapter 68 – Out of the Past
"People see God every day; they just don't recognize Him."
-Pearl Bailey
"I'm sorry," Wendy offered to Jane, but found her absent from her sight. She, herself, was no longer in heaven. Wendy looked about stunned to find her location changed, this time without warning.
Now she found herself in a hospital wing in the middle of the afternoon walking about bed after bed of ailing children. They were frightening to gaze upon, sickly children covered head to toe in rashes of red blisters, hacking and coughing up blood. They were all alone with not even one parent to take care of them. There were no doctors or nurses in the ward, just children crying out in pain and fear, and soon Wendy found herself weeping with them.
"Small pox, all of them. As soon as they die their bodies must be burned to lower the risk of contamination…" An older male gentleman spoke up from behind Wendy. She whirled around to inquire where exactly she was when she noticed he was a memory as well. Next to the older gentleman was a young man, dressed in a white suit of a surgeon, "Never ever go into this ward unless you absolutely have to Peter…"
"Uncle Peter …" Wendy whispered.
"It is really not safe to have your brother here either, Peter, he may be exposed. Best let him wait outside while you complete your rounds. There are other children just fighting the flu in the next ward over." With that word of advice, the man turned and left Peter smirking strangely, looking around at the children only hours away from death. He peeked about to a little boy of no more than four cowering behind him.
"George!" Peter called, yanking him out in front of him.
Before Wendy, stood her father at four years old. He was a cute little boy with the same color hair and eyes as she. He was without his spectacles, which Wendy found unusual, for she had heard stories that he needed the use of glasses to correct his vision from the time of infancy, just like his son John after him. And still, there he was, eager to be in Peter's company, and he listened to his eldest brother intently as he was given his instructions. "George, you are to stay here and play with these children while I work. They are all good pals for you, and you must hug each one and share your lunch with them. If you get thirsty there is a glass by the fountain that the children share. Remember what mother said about sharing. I will come and get you when I am finished." Wendy stared at him, horrified.
Peter left and the George of four stood gazing out at all the children who had now seen him and began calling out for aid. George went to each one, as Peter had instructed, and gave them a fine hug. He shared his lunch willingly, and when he was thirsty from running about and entertaining his new friends, he drank from the same glass the others shared. Peter never came back to retrieve his little brother, and as night fell on the ward, George hopped into a bed on the smallpox ward and fell asleep. Wendy blinked once and saw the same George, her father only a boy of four, happy and in good health one moment and, in the space of that blink, in the same condition as all of those other infected children in the ward.
It was he who now cried out for someone to help him. He was completely alone. Not even his mother was there to save him; she waited at home with her rosary beads clutched to her heart, praying for her baby boy from a distance.
And Wendy knew this, for that is exactly what Peter told the nurse who changed George's bed sheets. "I told my mother not to bother coming, for he'll be dead by tomorrow." The nurse lifted George up, only to have his skin all but slide from his body, leaving nothing but raw red flesh covering his bones. "Ah yes, tonight my baby brother will be dead and burned in the crematorium by morning."
George had little voice left, and could do nothing but whimper as he was gently and carefully laid back into bed. The only sound he had left he used to call for his lovely Mary. Peter mocked as he casually strolled from the ward, "Did he say he wanted to marry his mommy, stupid little twit," and the nurse who turned to watch him go, turned again and faced Wendy, who was traumatized and left speechless by the actions of her once beloved Uncle Peter.
She was not an ordinary nurse, she was just Jane disguised as one. "There is evil done…" she began, "that only God Himself can deflect…" she ended, pointing to a little man dressed in priestly garb who entered into the ward utilizing his handkerchief to cover his mouth escorted by another physician doing the exact same thing. The priest nodded, and the doctor took a quick flight, leaving the man of the cloth to his work.
Once the priest was alone, he lowered his handkerchief and began walking from bed to bed-to-bed gazing about at all the children. He took a seat in the middle of the room and mimicked the pose Father James kept while hearing confessions.
But this priest was not listening to the sins of those innocent babies suffering in that ward; he was listening to the sins of the world, which showed on his aged and tired face. He again arose and walked about, touching some children, leaving others only with softly spoken words that eased their hearts. As he got to George, he took longer than usual. George again called out, "My Mary…" complete with tears and then the best prayer he could muster or remember at four with his very last breaths. The priest cast his gaze to Wendy, who cried harder than her father, a child dying of smallpox, alone and unloved. He pulled up a chair next to the George of four, and in a quite hush began speaking to the poor unfortunate child.
Wendy stood before the both of them, with Jane to her side. She glanced away from them, only for a moment and caught her reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall opposite of where she stood. But that moment was long enough for her to see her own childlike appearance altering completely, right before her very eyes. She watched in absolute astonishment as her hair changed hues to dark auburn and suddenly rose from the straight strands that fell to her waist, now curling into tight ringlets that rested below her shoulders. Most disturbingly, at least to Wendy, the angelic blue of her eyes - that had always been the same as her father's - dulled to brown. It seemed the tall and slim frame of her young maturity, changed as well, as she shrank inches shorter, at the same time growing rather portly in shape. "What is happening to me?" Wendy asked as she ran to the mirror to catch her lovely facial features erased from her face, replaced with those of another, unknown to her. "You are now the daughter of Biggins and Mary Fisher." Jane answered, still holding her own eyes to George and the Priest.
"NO I AM NOT!" Wendy shouted as she turned on her heel and charged at Jane, only to land unexplainably flat on her fanny as the Priest stood from his chair.
"No Jane, Gwendolyn is correct, she is not…"There was a radiant flash of brilliant light that blinded her, and then darkness.
Wendy's vision returned as a doctor dressed in the purest white was informing Frederick Darling the Fourth, "For some reason, it appears that George has improved. Your son Peter's original diagnosis of death from his infection was wrong. It does happen from time to time. Children so young sometimes recover. Although I have to say George's recovery is nothing short of a miracle. Yes, miraculous! He is a very brave little boy who will grow into a fine young man. He may need spectacles to see, as his eyes are unexplainably damaged, but you can take him home in only a matter of days, Mr. Darling."
"Seems the worst for him is over, Peter, thank God. Do you hear me, Peter? NEVER AGAIN! You will never put any of my sons in danger again! NO MORE!" The senior Darling shouted at his son Peter as he allowed little George to be rolled out of the smallpox ward to a private recovery room Mr. Frederick Darling the Fourth had paid for himself.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that one, Father…" Peter muttered angrily under his breath.
"The light I saw, was it a miracle?" Wendy asked of Jane who still stood alongside her as she checked herself from head to toe in the mirror, the daughter of George and Mary Darling returned. "Indeed. And if something is given, then something else must be taken away. The good and the bad, there is a price for everything, Wendy, even for God. In this universe, nothing is free. That is why your father is blind now. He kept his life and paid with his eyesight."
"Why does Peter hate him so?" Wendy asked Jane, still dressed as a nurse as she guided Wendy to a full on run from the hospital out into broad daylight. "Good question. I should have explained that matter first…" Jane responded.
Wendy ran as fast as she could and realized she was no longer running alongside of Jane, but another young lady who seemed to be frightened out of her mind. It was the middle of the morning, and this woman, no older than twenty, had a clear and intended path away from her assailant. She kept on running as fast as her feet could carry her, with her dress held up to her ankles constantly looking backwards. She ran right into a very attractive, tall and rather shocked gentleman who had his hands full of his freshly baked goods ready for delivery. "Watch where you're going, you foolish…"
That was all Joseph Baker got out before casting his sights on the form of Elizabeth Duvall, or Mrs. Joseph Baker as she was to be known later in life, who had scraped her lovely hands when she landed on the sidewalk.
His fury over his ruined bread changed to sympathy and concern as he lifted her to her feet and lovingly inquired after her mad dash. "I'm, uh, late for tea…" Elizabeth managed, still glancing backwards to the empty street behind them. She gazed at him for the first time, and he caught her as she fainted. Grandpa Joe began fanning her, and Jane stepped up beside Wendy.
"Never met your grandmother Elizabeth? She was a fine woman, the best of best, if I do say so myself. For what she lived through in her life, she should be a saint." Jane nodded to Elizabeth who regained consciousness as she was lifted up by Joseph Baker and carried safely home, several blocks away. "Let me guess, that was how my grandparents met. But what does that have to do with my father?" Wendy exclaimed, not catching on.
Jane nodded and tilted her head to the alleyway closest to where they stood. With Joseph Baker carrying his soon-to-be fiancée home to her parents, Peter Darling emerged from his hiding spot. "Him?" Wendy remarked.
But Jane shook her head, "No, Wendy, him." She pointed her finger and beyond Peter, watching whatever it was that sent her grandmother, her mother's mother running for her life, was the little George without spectacles and beside him was a little Uncle Harry. "George is going home to tell his mother what Peter did to Elizabeth Duvall. The smallpox came soon after."
"I never knew my grandmother Elizabeth and Uncle Peter were nearly the same age. I wonder what he did to her that made her run away like that," Wendy asked as Jane began dancing her about on her feet in a peculiar fashion.
"It does not matter, for she never told a soul, and George does not remember. Your Uncle Harry does, though, he has yet to admit it, but he soon will. She will wed Joseph Baker in secret, because Millicent will not approve of her brother's choice, and will do everything in her power to stop it. They are to have a long secret engagement, before finally marrying alone in the church, with not even their parents present. A year after that they will have Mary."
"That is why my father is seven years older than my mother," Wendy commented as she listened to a beautiful melody that began, timing her steps and those of Jane to the beat. Jane turned Wendy overhand and into the arms of Peter Darling, who was at that moment twirling her mother off the dance floor to a side table in his parent's parlor.
"Mary, I was so fond of your mother once, but I was a fool, for she is nothing compared to you. You are far more divine and sensual. I bet you have a tight sweet little…"
Jane yanked Wendy back from that conversation, looking disgusted. "Believe me, Wendy, your mother having to hear it once was enough."
Wendy gazed in awe about the large room decorated for Christmas. The winter cotillion at Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Darling's house, Uncle Peter with Mary, whispering in the corner, George with his spectacles standing nearest his own mother, and Elizabeth Baker taking her place at the punch bowl, all was in order. "This part of the story is amazing, Wendy. It is the perfect example of how the devil gets so much done while practically doing nothing at all. You see, mankind in itself is capable of every evil, seen and unseen. You absolutely cannot miss this chapter in your parents' life, for it is the beginning," Jane explained.
Now, everyone who told this story, everyone who was involved, had a similar version, but not the same remembrance of events. So here was Wendy, in the body of a young girl, about to see the real deal and unfair play in progress. She watched as Peter stood, holding Mary's ear and the back of her dress, and his brother Charles, who stood only a few feet away holding the ear of another young lady in the same unfortunate manner. George was not watching Mary with Peter; he was watching the unlucky female named Lorraine with his other older brother. It was Harry standing opposite George alongside Mrs. Frederick Darling that gazed adoringly at Wendy's mother.
"Where are you going Harold?" Mrs. Darling demanded.
"I'm going to ask Mr. Baker's daughter if she would like punch, Peter danced her about for a hour."
Mrs. Darling rolled her eyes at Harry, "You're a filthy old goat, Harold, now go sit down and try not to get too drunk this evening."
It was obvious he was already intoxicated when he stumbled to a chair and did everything but pass out. Mrs. Darling turned to George who did not hear one word of their conversation.
"George," she shouted, yanking George by his collar. "Go ask that tramp with your brother Peter is with if she is parched."
Mrs. Darling shoved George forward. It was easy to see that her baby boy, her personal favorite, had no interest in the Baker's daughter. George quickly strolled up to Peter and Mary and asked simply, "Punch?" without looking at the lovely Queen standing before him, being held captive by a dragon in fancy suit.
"Yes, James, spiced punch for the both of us," Peter responded, shoving George, who was still looking at Charles and Lorraine, back toward the punch bowl. He called him the wrong name on purpose, to annoy his brother and taunt him with the fine specimen of woman he kept company with. George took no notice of either and hurried back, gathered the punch and returned to Peter handing him two glasses overflowing.
Somewhere between the here that was and the there that is, a fictional foot was inserted into the story. It was a simple addition to make, for no one else at the party was watching. But there was no foot, only George's clumsy hands that needed no help from any evil outside force to dump punch down Mary's dress as he hastily handed them over, in hopes of chasing after Charlie and Lorraine who were sauntering off into another room to be alone. George's eyes never left Lorraine; therefore he did not see Mary's hand attempting to fix her beautiful sapphire-colored dress covered in red punch and rum. So there was no slap from Mary's hand and there was no foul language for that matter either, only a simple, "You've ruined my dress, Sir," in a soft hopeless tone directed at her future darling, to which George paid no attention.
So, it is obvious Mary did not break George's spectacles, for they were still safely affixed to his nose as he dropped to the floor to wipe up the spilled punch. "Mother is going to kill me," George muttered under his breath, paying no mind to Mary, standing before him, dripping wet and sticky. As he laughed, Peter unknowingly released Mary who took the opportunity and fled. Wendy spun around baffled at all that was transpiring, and with her mother gone, she watched George stand and jeer at Peter, who still chuckled.
"Where did Charlie go with Lorraine?" George asked.
Peter nodded his head to another room and that is where George went. Only a few minutes later, Lorraine emerged and slapped George twice, once in the mouth and once on the cheek, this time breaking his spectacles while she called out the foul names.
The room was full of guests, and from where Grandpa Joe and Grandma Elizabeth, even Aunt Millicent stood; no one could see which young lady was shouting. Lorraine knocked George over while pushing her way out and fled the party as well. "What happened?" Grandpa Joe asked his wife, and an unnamed party guest, who had a better spot to see the action replied, "George Darling was just slapped in the face by a girl whom I believe is your daughter. She broke his glasses, used a foul tongue and left."
Aunt Millicent was the first to chase after dearest Mary Elizabeth Baker, "Did you hear the language she used Joseph? Good Lord, wherever did she hear those words…"
"I'm confused," Wendy whispered to Jane, who was sipping her own punch glass, dressed properly as a party guest in heavenly white satin.
"So apparently is everyone else," she replied, and tapped Wendy on the shoulder.
Whatever power Jane had sent the room back in time again, and now, once more, Wendy took her place inside the room where Lorraine and Charlie were engaging in a rather offensive and unbecoming passion. George entered the room and stomped his foot down. "Lorraine!" he shouted, rather annoyed that his own date to the party gave her favor away so freely to his brother when only the night before, she refused him only a kiss. Wendy knew this, for that is exactly what George, her father-to-be, yelled at Lorraine.
Charlie rose and began to fix his pants. He leaned down and whispered something in Lorraine's ear that caused her to spread her legs in an unladylike fashion, "Well come on, George, let's go then," Lorraine offered, opening her arms as well to him.
"Go ahead George, she's quite good," Charlie replied, smirking to his baby brother who was fuming.
"His brothers always tried to take away anything that gave George even the slightest joy, well almost."
Jane spoke rather loudly over George who was already snapping back, "Peter's had it at the moment you arrived this evening, he already told me and now Charlie too. Who's next? Harry?"
"Coo, I hope so. He is the one I wanted! I only did this one and your other brother because they promised they could arrange it!" Lorraine screamed back.
"Well this is one of the Darlings you will never get the honor of, and Harry as well, I will see to it myself. And I am going to tell your mother you are spoiled and far from a virgin!" He stalked from the room, and Lorraine leapt to her feet with his threat, chasing after him to create the scene to soil his reputation as an honest fellow by shouting and slapping him.
George retold the real truth to his mother after the chaos subsided and the room calmed, the merrymaking continuing, and she informed him, "See, George, like I told you hundreds of times before, women hold not even the slightest interest in you. You are thinned lipped, pale, and unattractive on the eyes. Do you need further proof, my son? She was nice and sweet yesterday, only using you to get to Harry, Charlie and Peter for that matter. Anyway, no one knows it was Lorraine that slapped you, George. Everyone thinks it was Mary Elizabeth Baker, for you spilled punch on her dress and did not even apologize. Very rude, young man, but I am not surprised, for you have no skills with the ladies."
George bowed his head, overwhelmed by both his brother's and Lorraine's behaviors that he forgot all about poor Mary. "Best to just let everyone think that. Mary Elizabeth is a quiet proper young lady who will not correct the error, especially if that horrid woman who is her aunt tells her so. Just tell everyone you tripped on Peter's foot and accidentally brushed her bosom. That will cover the insult." It was Grandma Josephine who inserted the foot then, and the brushing over Mary's bosom, for that matter.
And just as Mrs. Frederick Darling the Fourth said, Aunt Millicent told Mary what happened to her at the party ending with, "You should be ashamed and utterly humiliated for creating a scene such as that. No one will want to court you, Mary Elizabeth, for you have an awful temper and nasty tongue!"
Mary denied Aunt Millicent's story, "He spilt punch on my dress, and I was more embarrassed than angry, and I did not slap him."
Aunt Millicent would not hear of it, and called her niece "a petty liar."
Mary, hearing this and seeing her parents' dissatisfied faces, kept the truth hidden in her heart, to be forgotten as they years passed. Like her mother advised, she did write a letter of apology to George's mother, saying she was sorry for her performance, confirming Josephine's affirmation that the lie was now the truth.
"If you live a lie long enough, Wendy, it becomes the truth. But you already knew that." Jane commented.
"I feel sorry for my mother," Wendy mumbled, walking alongside of Jane out into the night air. "My father could not care less that he offended my mother. It's a wonder after all that they ever fell in love."
"It does not matter, Wendy, for your mother was also oblivious to your father at that party. As for their love, that's simply explained. Two bodies bound by one heart will always find each other. As I am sure you are aware, there is a perfect time for everything in life, a time when all the pieces of the puzzle fit flawlessly together in harmony. I believe it is called fate or even destiny, if you prefer. That party, the winter cotillion at the home of Mr. And Mrs. Frederick Darling the Fourth, was not the correct time."
In the back of the church, Wendy and Jane sat. It was full of folks making their way to the pews as mass was just about to begin. George entered, escorting his mother, and took a place in the row in front of Wendy, still in her nightgown. Mary Elizabeth Baker, her parents and Aunt Millicent made their way in and sat opposite Mrs. Darling and her favorite son, the only one in their family that attended weekly service. With her nose implanted in the prayer book, Josephine did not see where her son's attention rested.
From where Wendy was, she saw her father gaze in wonderment at her mother in her lovely pink dress. He got on his knees that very day, and Wendy heard him pray, "Dearest Lord, I know my mother wants me to become a priest, but I must say I would prefer the calling of husband and father. And if at all possible, could I marry that young lady across from me in the pretty pink dress? I promise I will love her always, and be a good husband to her and father to our children. Please God, there is no other I want to spend the rest of my life with…"
Jane giggled, but Wendy did not find it the least bit funny. "Sorry, dearest heart, it's just that your mother will ask God for the same thing tonight, although I must say she will not be as specific in her request."
Wendy saw her father and mother intermingle in public places, at the bank where he worked, in the bakery her father owned, at the park, at church, and on the sidewalk in the middle of the day. Mary never noticed George, although he did attempt to be seen. She just kept her mind elsewhere and away from him. Just like at his parent's party, only in reverse, to Mary, George was nothing special. In her mind, her heart beat for an angel named James. Odd it was that Peter had picked that name to call his brother, and George's heart beat for a girl named Gwendolyn, for at his place of employment, a colleague erroneously told him the incorrect name. She noted the observation to Jane who only nodded and smiled.
So there was Wendy in her parent's parlor, although this time it belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Baker, and they were chatting back and forth about a fine young gentleman that Grandpa Joe had met that very morning in the bakery and was bringing home for tea to meet Mary. "Oh Joseph, he is the one who spilled punch on Mary Elizabeth, and she broke his spectacles. Not a good match," Mrs. Baker replied after her husband informed her of his name.
"I just want to open the door of the house for other suitors, our Mary has none. Maybe he comes courting and word spreads, others will seek her out." His explanation was simple enough, and when George came calling, Mary saw in his eyes what was missing in the angel named James.
"Oh yes, there you are…" Mary thought to herself, although she was unaware of the meaning at the time.
George thought the same thing, "Finally we can be together."
At that moment, unseen to the naked eye, George's heart skipped a beat and changed its sound. Instead of Gwendolyn, it beat for Mary. And Mary's heart, watching her George drink his tea in silence, repeated the action, skipping a beat and pounding now and forever only for her darling love.
"The known and the unknown on this matter, Wendy, now come quickly, our time together grows short." Wendy took Jane's hand and was led into the hall closet, through the coats and into another closet elsewhere. Jane opened the door and there in the living room of an unknown residence was George sitting in his suit with another gentleman shabbily dressed. Wendy peeked down the hall and saw her mother standing in the kitchen with Margaret washing dishes.
"Not Margaret, Wendy, that is her mother, Penny," Jane corrected, and poked her forward. Wendy stood in front of George and Penny's husband, eavesdropping on their private and softly spoken conversation.
"I'm telling you, George, her parents are going to send her away. You will never see her again, for her folks hate you. You must act now. Do what I did with Penny when she wouldn't marry me. Just leave it in her when you finish. If you're lucky, she'll get pregnant, and then they will make you marry her. She'll never know Mary is untouched. She won't know any better, believe me. Penny makes fun of her all the time behind her back for being such a good girl. She loves you, George, do you see the way she looks at you? She's wanting it."
All George replied to James, Penny's husband, was "I will do no such thing until we are married."
James had a response to that. "If you don't give her a baby, George, you will never get married."
George was appalled when Mary asked him for his favor, for if she were untouched, how would she know to ask? He was utterly confused, for his brother warned him only that morning, "Mary is just playing a game, George. She sent you the invitation, wanting you to show up in the church so she can make Biggins jealous. Don't let her use you like that." And he was a little wanting himself, knowing the way Mary looked at him. 'Why would she wear that silky ensemble to bed, to tempt me? … She let me touch her breasts … I can feel the softness of her skin … her mouth … her tongue with mine … her body is so warm … she keeps touching me …"
The first time with Mary, George did his business inside of her unintentionally, plain and simple. Overcome by the sensation of her warm, wet, snug fit to his member in her womanhood, he lost control and went further than he wanted to. He did have all intentions of not finishing with her in the same room, letting the built up tension he edged closer and closer to fade away to be released later alone. But every thrust, when he was absolutely positive this was to be the last one before he excused himself to the bathroom to complete by hand, he only plunged further and deeper until it was too late. It simply felt too wonderful to stop, and as far as he could tell, Mary holding to him tightly, meant she, too, wanted him to complete. Wendy was not conceived that night, for behind the closed door away from her parents in their personal intimacies, Jane told her.
Mary slept peacefully unfertilized, and George awoke to the sounds of James also awake in the kitchen. "Did you?" he asked George, who nodded, uneasy with himself for taking Mary's virginity without a ring and the risk of placing his seed inside of her. "Just once?" James sneered, and jerked around to glare at George who again nodded. "If I had Mary in my bed I would have screwed her all night. She wouldn't be able to walk when I was done with her…"
James looked up to the ceiling; his eyes went blank as he moved his head and stared out into the parlor before him. His voice changed, from its normally rough timbre to crystal clear persuasion of the unknown. "Once isn't enough, George, you'll have to do it again if you want that baby." James approached George and draped his arm over his shoulder. "George, listen to me. You must trust me on this. You must give Mary your baby this very morning. Even after she ran away, they will still want to marry her to Biggins Fisher. They will reorganize the wedding and the marriage will happen in December. He will take her from you, George, and you will never ever see her again. Never."
George tottered on his feet, and frowned. "Probably all for the best. He would be a better husband to her."
James shook his head and interrupted him. "George, you want to marry her, make that baby with her don't you? Think of it, George, babies with Mary. You asked God for the vocation of husband and father, right now, this morning, He is giving it to you on a silver platter. Take it, George. You are the one that must choose between the lion and the maiden this time. You can make her the maiden or feed her to the lion."
James released George, the man who was destined to be Wendy, John and Michael's father stepped back. "Lion? Maiden? What is all that nonsense? Are you insane or just drunk? And how did you know I prayed to God about Mary? How did you know I asked him to make me her husband…"
James held an encouraging expression with a pleasant smile and replied, "I may be silent, George, but I do listen."
George backed away further, and turned completely around to see James move past him without another word and lay down next to his wife Penny, falling fast asleep on the parlor rug the second he closed his eyes. Wendy looked on as George slowly stepped back into the bedroom and closed the door. "People see God every day, Wendy, they just don't recognize him," Jane whispered.
Wendy could hear her mother awake from behind the closed door, and she could hear the intimate sounds of her parents making love and creating her. She wanted to stay and listen, but Jane pulled her on. "One more known and unknown, and then it will be dawn … and it will be your turn to make the happy ending."
Away into the night they went, and Jane continued with her lesson, "Now you must remember, Wendy, your mother will always be a creature of mystery. Her heart is a wealth of enigmas and confidences she shares with no one but those involved. It may appear at times to be wise or even wicked on her part. But alas, she hides things meant to be seen in plain sight to protect those she loves most of all. The known…" Wendy and Jane flew up and away and landed in the middle of the attic, Wendy's old room.
But Wendy was not residing there, instead Uncle Harry rested in the bed asleep. Wendy saw the actions of that night played out very quickly, like watching a movie and a silent one at that. Mary was scrubbing on her hands and knees in the kitchen while the devil hiding within George was plotting his next course of action. Mary bathed and dressed like a whore on Satan's command and was pushed from their bedroom. Wendy saw her mother come so close to servicing her Uncle Harry, which made her cover her eyes, due to the overwhelming suspense of the moment. Captain Hook in the hall closet came next.
The replay playing fast forward slowed as Mary Elizabeth Baker Darling climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Jane spoke up from behind Wendy, "We are tempted in our fates."
Mary was presented with two choices, both to be made of her own free will. The door to the devil or the door to the attic and escape to Neverland, for as Captain Hook told her before he departed back to his ship, "You can leave with me tonight if you like, just go to the window in Gwendolyn's room. You will never have to sleep with the enemy again, Madam."
It was frightening to Wendy to see that her mother chose the attic door. But she was not headed to the window. She crept up to Harry, trying unsuccessfully to sleep on the bed, and sat down. Slowly she slipped in beside him, and after only a moment Harry turned on his side to face her. They stared at one another for what seemed like forever. Harry lovingly touched Mary's face and gingerly kissed her.
They kissed and shifted together, and soon after, Mary's nightgown was on the floor as was Harry's pajamas. Wendy looked away as Harry unlocked her mother, lingering inside of her making Mary whimper with desire for him to move onward into her deeper. Each thrust Harry filled Mary with made Wendy weep. Harry held Mary below him, covered by the bed's blankets so there was not much to see when Wendy finally gazed upon them. But Wendy knew, being a woman, that her mother was truly making love to her uncle, not just "servicing" him. And Harry, her father's brother, adored her mother in the exact same way. Harry removed himself from his sister-in-law and left his seed on her belly, panting heavily with satisfaction.
Where Wendy expected to see her mother either crying or devastated over her misdeed, Mary comfortably stretched out on the bed after Harry rolled off onto his back, lying beside her. He raised her hand to his mouth and brushed her lips to it. "I will always be here for you, Mary, whenever you need me," Harry said, and Mary, Wendy's mother, replied, "Thank you, Harry." Mary fell asleep beside her brother-in-law, and when she was resting peacefully he carried her down the attic stairs, carefully leaving her outside her husband's bedroom.
"Seems each side of your mother's heart had a lover, Wendy. As a wife and mother it was George, as a wicked witch it was Captain Hook, and for all other times, as in this case an indentured servant trapped with the devil in hell, it is to be Harold."
Wendy was no longer a little girl dressed in her nightgown, she was again a grown woman standing beside an angel named Jane, swollen in the middle with child as she watched her Uncle Harry get down on his hands and knees and pray, "Thank You for letting me spend this night with Mary and answering my prayers. In her I know what it is to be truly loved. Have mercy on me a sinner dearest Lord, and have mercy on her and George as well."
"My father doesn't know, does he?" Wendy asked, as Jane tucked Wendy into bed alongside James fast asleep.
Jane gazed at Wendy and offered an angelic smile of peace and understanding to the troubles in her heart. "He would only know if your mother told him."
"They are not lovers, my mother and Uncle Harry?" Wendy asked, holding Jane from her leave, a brilliant white light that shone down on the bed she sat on. "No, they are not now, but in this case they were both there for one another when it was needed."
"Why I am being shown all of this?" Wendy asked.
"Because these are the things that must be known to ensure your parents a happily ever after, not on Earth, but in heaven." Jane kissed Wendy's forehead and lovingly touched her belly with a smile of true happiness.
Wendy blinked again and it was dawn, James rested beside her, holding his own hand on the spot Jane's had just relinquished. "Sleep well, Gwendolyn?" he whispered, placing a perfect kiss on her cheek.
"It is the strangest thing James, I had the most amazing dream, but I cannot remember anything of it…"