This story takes place only a few years after Wendy's first visit to
Neverland with Peter Pan, so it is considered a follow-up to the 2003 P.J.
Hogan film Peter Pan (with some natural references to the original Barrie
novel [1911] and his own Peter Pan prequel, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
[1904]).
*AUTHOR'S NOTE: In response to some of your reviews and emails, a few of you have expressed either a desire to know where this story is headed or already seemed to have made premature conclusions to such an extent after only 3 chapters. To be quite honest, if I were to divulge such info, I would be giving away the whole story, as it is rather complex, and I would prefer for you the readers to see it unfold as it happens. This story is not quite so cut-and-dry as "it's Wendy-Peter" or "it's Wendy-Someone else." However, what I can tell you is that if you are a person who simply cannot stand to ever ever ever ever ever EVER imagine Wendy with someone other than Peter Pan, or Peter thinking of Wendy as anything else but the absolute sun, moon, and stars, then you might be disappointed. Though I should hope you would stick around and see how it goes anyway. :-)
And now, on to Chapter IV .....keep the comments coming!
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IV. THE OLD AND THE NEW
Imagine for a moment, if you can, that you were suddenly stricken blind at a very young age. Where you were once able to behold the most brilliant spectacles with not a second thought to the miracle of vision, now all you can see before you is a dull, black canvas. And there shall never again be anything else.
But then, one day, a wizard – perhaps Merlin himself – appears at the foot of your bed and tells you he has a brand new set of eyes for you, and he will happily hand them over if you only say the word. However, there is a catch; for you can only wear these new eyes for one day only, to drink on all the lovely sights that you have missed. And after your time has expired, you must forfeit them back to the wizard so that he may offer them to another unfortunate soul, thus leaving you once again to the darkness for the remainder of your days.
What would you, dear reader, say to an offer such as this? Would you take the eyes and spend one last glorious day to stare at the sun and flowers or gaze upon the precious faces of your loved ones? Or would you refuse the tempting proposal, for you would rather not be privy to all the wonderful things you have missed in your affliction and could not bear the heartache of having them stolen away from you once more?
If you have chosen the former option, they you may be able to better understand precisely how Wendy Darling was feeling as she was being led away to Neverland with Peter Pan for a second time. The boy had offered her one last chance of experiencing all the wonderful adventure that she had only tasted but once before and was almost certain to never come close to again after.
In all her girlish excitement at seeing Peter once more and being whisked off to Neverland, Wendy had, sadly, given little thought to how she may feel once she was back at her window, watching Peter and all the marvelous things he represented fly out of her life for most likely the very last time. Had she been just a little more grown-up, she probably would not have allowed herself to be resting upon that pink cloud at this very moment – she would have chosen to forfeit the magic eyes back to the wizard.
But such as it was, she lay on her back under the inviting Neverland sun to catch her breath after a lengthy journey across the stars. She had not remembered the trip being so arduous and tiring, and she would simply attribute it to her sleepiness.
Peter was not quite as sure about that. He had begun to grow fairly impatient with her, and nevermore was his irritation piqued as when she insisted they take a brief repose upon the clouds before continuing on to the island. 'Twas but another discouraging sign of her impending womanhood, he was convinced of it. And as he sat and watched her from another cloud, he tried to ignore the incessant buzzing about his head from Tinker Bell.
"You know what could happen, don't you?" she kept repeating in a very taunting manner.
"I shall not let it," he insisted. Then he cast a grave look upon his fairy. "And neither shall you."
Tinker Bell crossed her little arms, her wings fluttering haughtily. "She'd be better off thrown to the mermaids."
Peter felt the strongest urge just then to pluck Tinker Bell from out of midair and twist her tiny neck for saying such a thing. But he knew better how to win her approval.
"Tink," he began gently, the slightest grin creeping upon his lips, "I may not be able to keep as constant a watch as I would like over Wendy during her visit here. So I am trusting in you to step in and look after her if I cannot, for you are ever so much more resourceful and crafty than I. Will you be so kind as to oblige me this favor?"
Tinker Bell was far too small to resist the sweetness oozing from Peter as he spoke to her. She tried to avoid his charming grin, but alas, it was in vain.
"Do you really think of me so, Peter?" she gushed.
"Of course!" he insisted. "Why, there is not another creature in the world to whom I would extend such a lofty responsibility!"
Tinker Bell's little light beamed brighter than ever. "Then I shall do all I can to prove my worth to you!"
And with that, she tickled Peter's nose, and he giggled joyously. Never was there more delightful and loyal a companion to him than when his Tinker Bell was in high spirits.
Unbeknownst to the giddy twosome, Wendy had been quietly observing them from her own cloud for the duration of their conversation. One would assume that she would take an envious offense to Peter's closeness with the fairy, just as Tinker Bell had toward he and the girl. Rather to the contrary, Wendy sought great comfort in knowing that Peter had such a devoted ally to keep him company during the more lonely days and nights he must certainly spend in Neverland. The feisty little sprite would do just about anything for Peter, and Wendy was glad there was such a someone – or something – in Peter's life to look after him when she herself could not. And so she gave a contented smile as she watched the two companions interact as if an old married couple.
After a little while, Wendy deemed herself rested enough to resume their flight to the island. She drank in all the splendid sights as if for the very first time, and Peter once more delighted in showing off his beloved home to her. Everything was just as she had remembered and preserved in her dreams – the Mermaid's Lagoon, the Indian camp, the Black Castle...And most curiously, the Jolly Roger. The ominous pirate ship was still docked quietly a short distance from the Lagoon. Could this be the new residence for Peter Pan? Wendy could imagine it to be so, but it was to her surprise when Peter led her quite far from the ship toward the other side of the island, near Indian Territory, and came to land in a decidedly thick and dark portion of the jungle.
"What a dreadful little spot," Wendy proclaimed, trying to make out her bleak surroundings by means of the sole light source available – Tinker Bell. "Peter, why have we stopped here?"
Suddenly, Wendy realized that Peter seemed to have slipped away. She called out his name worriedly.
"Over here, Wendy," she heard him reply from about five yards to her left.
She followed the sound of his voice and Tinker Bell's glow until she caught up with him standing near a more huddled grouping of trees. He was tugging at a thick vine that seemed to be hanging from the summit of these trees above, and once Wendy was upon him, he took her hand and wrapped it firmly around the vine. He then told her to take a broad step forward, and when she did, she felt her foot slip into what felt like a large, sturdy basket attached to the vine. After she swung her other leg inside as well, Peter instructed her to pull hard upon the vine. She did so, and she found herself suddenly lurched a few inches upward.
Peter smiled mischievously within the darkness. "Meet you up top!"
And just like that, he shot straight upward and was gone. Out of mere reflex, Wendy called out after him, but it was for naught. And so, with a rather inconvenienced sigh, she continued to pull on the vine and hoist herself up the side of the trees. By the time she began seeing the merest inkling of daylight peer at her through the treetops above, she was quite convinced that her arms would simply fall off her body from all the pulling! How much higher did this blasted vine go?!
At long last, Wendy breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Peter above, standing on the edge of what looked to be a rather austere treehouse. Once she was close enough, Peter helped her out of the basket and onto the rickety wooden platform of his hideout. With a quick scan of the forest beyond, lest any enemies be lurking nearby, Peter released a deerskin flap, adorned with an array of indigenous leaves, from the top of the entrance and let it fall over the opening, shielding the occupants within from prying eyes.
Only when the hideout was properly concealed from the outside world did Tinker Bell then dare to light the small candles distributed sporadically throughout the home. As each one sprung to life, Wendy was able to absorb her surroundings a little at a time. The whole of the lair was no bigger than her bedroom in London, with only the barest of amenities to keep Peter and his mates provided for. The deerskin walls were reinforced with tree branches and lined all around the perimeter with small cots, 5 in all, made of the same (Peter's being the biggest and most garish, of course). A few minor shelves and tables had been crafted and affixed to the walls or set in corners, respectively. The center of the room was open space, and it was littered with animal skins and furs, crude maps, apple cores, and assorted weaponry. And Peter Pan stood proudly amongst all of it, most pleased with his humble little dwelling.
"Why, Peter, it's..." Wendy tiptoed around her words, not wanting to hurt the boy's feelings. "...so...quaint."
Peter had nary an inkling as to what that word meant, but he judged from Wendy's placating smile that it was a very fine appraisal indeed, and he smiled back broadly.
"And what exactly is that up there?" Wendy asked, pointing to what looked like a bucket protruding from the roof.
Peter explained that, since they had no fireplace, and Neverland became frightfully cold during the night (and when Peter was away), they had carved a skylight in the roof and attached a box to it, wherein it collected sunrays all day long, and once night fell, the box was removed and set in the center of the room where the rays could emit their pleasant warmth amongst the boys as they slept.
"What a lovely idea!" Wendy exclaimed. It was indeed, Peter thought. "So, you have some new Lost Boys, Peter?"
'Twas quite so, and Peter excitedly took a seat upon one of the fur rugs on the floor and began telling Wendy all about his most recent band of mates. Wendy as well took a seat next to him, most eager to hear everything.
There were four of them at the moment, each varying just as much in age and temperament as the crop of boys who now lived with Wendy in London. The first to arrive had been a small Irish boy whom Peter dubbed Ram Eye, for this was all the boy would say whence first arriving in Neverland, and it was much to Peter's secret embarrassment when he realized that the boy had actually been saying "Where am I?" through his thick accent!
Next came a rather shy boy, roughly the same age as Peter, although a tad bit on the portly side, as Tootles had been, and therefore posed no threat whatsoever to Peter's authority. His name was Dudley, but Peter preferred to call him "Doubly" in order to further remind him of his place. (To this, Wendy shook her head and told Peter he ought to be ashamed, but Peter only laughed and insisted that what Doubly lacked in physical appearance he made up for in a keen hunting prowess.)
The third Lost Boy was the youngest – only perhaps five or six years old – and his never-ending stream of queries about nearly everything helped him to obtain the name "Little Know-Nothing" by the Indians, which the Boys shortened to simply Know-No. Peter found him quite impertinent and often prone to getting lost or straying from the group. But he was a hearty little fighter, and so Peter resisted the temptation to feed him to the mermaids for supper.
The fourth and final boy to come to Neverland had the distinction of being the "brains" of the bunch. Named Specs for his frighteningly thick eyeglasses, he could both read and write, and do things with numbers that Peter could not have imagined. He had drawn up diagrams of Neverland of such astounding accuracy Peter had never seen, and these he showed to Wendy, who was equally impressed. She would have thought Peter to be jealous of this boy's skills, but in fact he was happy to have his abilities at his disposal and would rather Specs deal with all that inane intellectual rubbish than he!
Peter gleamed as he spoke of his new mates, telling Wendy that he harbored a true fondness for these boys despite the proud and indifferent façade he feigned. And then, as if his merely speaking of the boys somehow called to their spirits and summoned them, Peter and Wendy were suddenly interrupted by a frightful din of activity and hollering all about the hideout.
Peter leapt to his feet in such a manner that Wendy feared they were being attacked, and even more concerned did she become when Tinker Bell darted from her tiny house and began hastily snuffing out all the candles. Now the commotion was fully upon them and had overtaken the little treetop home, and Wendy was able to feel her way through the darkness and lean herself up against a wall and, hopefully, out of harm's way. Then she heard Peter call out:
"Will you blockheads be quiet!"
Almost immediately, the uproar died down. Several small voices whispered "Sorry, Peter" in response.
"Close the flap, Ram Eye," Peter was heard to instruct, and only a few short moments thereafter, the candles became lit again, one by one. And Wendy, still against the wall and quite inconspicuous, got her first look at the new Lost Boys.
"I told you boys not to be so bloody loud when entering the hideout!" Peter fumed, and Wendy blushed a little to hear him use such coarse language.
"We're very sorry, Peter," one of the boys, presumably Doubly, said. "But we have the most marvelous news!"
"Oh, yes, indeed!" another boy chimed in.
"Just fantastic!" squealed another.
And soon, the ruckus had been ignited anew, which Peter had to once again extinguish.
"Alright! Alright! Tell me your news, only do it quietly!"
A boy stepped forward, and Wendy decided it was Ram Eye. "Payter, we 'ave found the pirates treesure!" His accent gave him away soundly.
"Yes!" Doubly interjected. "Their entire supply hold!"
Peter's jaw fell agape. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure!" a boy with thick spectacles asserted. "Tucked away good and proper on the other side of Dead Man's Ditch."
"Why, there is nothing on the other side of Dead Man's Ditch but a straight drop onto Blind Man's Bluff," Peter wrote off.
"On the contrary," Specs said. "There is a hidden path along the incline of the ditch that leads to a hollow within the cliffside, facing the sea. Frankly, I don't know how we ever missed it before!"
Normally, Peter would have found news such as this quite distressing – that these inferior boys, although his best mates, should come upon so great a find as this without his participation would be a nasty blow to Peter's fragile ego indeed. But such a spectacular discovery it was that all Peter could think about was getting to it straight away and raiding it out but good!
"Show me at once!" Peter demanded greedily, his eyes growing large and mischievous.
The Lost Boys were only too happy to oblige and readily made toward the entrance to leave. Up until this point, Wendy had remained silent and quite undetected in her little corner of the room, but whence she saw Peter about to drop everything and go off to his little treasure hunt, she was compelled to step out of the shadows.
"But Peter, wait..." she entreated anxiously.
All other occupants of the tree home suddenly came to a dead halt and shot their little heads in her direction, and then the Boys gasped.
"What the divil is'at?" Ram Eye inquired, his eyes practically bulging from his head.
"It's a mermaid what's grown legs!" Doubly exclaimed.
"No, no, no," Peter shook his head. "That's just Wendy."
'Just Wendy'? She could not help but feel slightly offended at so dismissive an introduction.
"What's a 'Wendy'?" Little Know-No inquired.
Specs adjusted his glasses. "Why, 'tis a lady." He frowned. "A *grown-up* lady!"
And just like that, all eyes suddenly cast darkly upon Peter, including Wendy's.
"Oh...well, uh...," Peter stammered. "She's not really THAT grown-up..."
Wendy was pleased to finally hear him say so. But the Boys were not quite so easily convinced.
"She's practically ANCIENT!" Doubly cried out, swiftly putting a damper on Wendy's brief satisfaction.
All the Boys began talking at once again, mostly at Peter, who was finding himself being backed into a corner. Suddenly, he sprang into the air.
"What is all this, a mutiny?!" he bellowed, and the Boys clamed up. "She is not an enemy. She has come only for a day to tell us stories and mend our garments."
"Like a mother?" Specs asked, now a bit more at ease.
"Right!" Peter was quick to assure him.
"Aw, dash mothers!" Ram Eye exclaimed, his arms folded. "The 'ole reesen we came to Neverland in the farst plehce was to get awee from mothers!"
Peter laughed nervously. "But, she is not *really* our mother. It would only be a game!"
Know-No wrinkled his pug little nose. "Grown-ups can't play games."
Wendy was fast becoming fed-up with all this nonsense about her age, and she would have tossed up quite a juvenile row had Peter not stepped in and, surprisingly, acted the cooler head.
"Listen, we can talk about this later," he said. "Right now, we must get to the pirates hold before those scoundrels even know what's hit them!"
How quickly a child's attention can be diverted when enticed with treasures and adventure, and the Boys gave up a hearty cheer at Peter's words. Their captain corralled the bunch toward the opening of their tree home when Wendy again stepped forward, fully expecting to be included on this most intriguing exploit.
But alas, Peter turned to her promptly and held her at arms length.
"What are you doing?" he asked quickly.
"What does it look like?" she replied. "I am following you!"
"Oh, no, no, no," Peter shook his head earnestly. "This is no mission for a..."
He abruptly cut himself off as Wendy's countenance became severe.
"...for a *lady*!" he recovered. But this did little to dissuade Wendy.
"Peter, I am quite capable..." she tried to reason, but he cut her off now.
"No, you must stay here," he declared firmly. "Tink shall guard you lest any trouble comes about."
Tinker Bell could be heard huffing within her boudoir.
"I shall go with you, Peter!" Wendy insisted most vigorously.
"You can't!" Peter contended, putting Wendy in quite a dubious position. "Look, just stay here and...and tidy up the place or something!"
Were Wendy not such a lady, she surely would have belted Peter Pan right across his sassy little face. But she stayed her hand in favor of a grotesquely insulted expression, which Peter gave little notice to before hastily ushering his band of ruffians out of the hideout and into Intrigue's waiting arms.
Wendy made a move toward the entrance, and fast did she become starkly aware that she had no other recourse than to stay put, at least for the moment, as she had no means of escaping the tree home now that all the baskets had been lowered to the ground way below. So, she retreated back inside and paced indignantly. How DARE Peter act so impertinent and refuse her inclusion on their expedition! Why, if he were just a little smaller – or she a little bigger – she would swiftly take the boy over her knee and thrash him but good!
But, oh, what good should that do, besides convince Peter that she was nothing more than a stodgy old 'grown-up' as he and the rest of the Boys suspected. She must prove to them presently how capable she was of childish and frivolous things, just as spiritedly as they.
Wendy tossed a narrow look at Tinker Bell, who was sitting still within the entrance to her boudoir. The fairy met Wendy's gaze thusly, watching the disappointed girl as she treaded the rickety floorboards in deep thought. The fairy did not want to be there any more than Wendy, but not quite for the same reasons. The silence between them grew tense, until Wendy at last broke it.
"Well, Tinker Bell," she began confidently, "As much as I would love to stay in this little room and frolic gaily with you, I'm afraid I must follow Peter and the others."
Tinker Bell zipped quickly from her place and in front of Wendy, waving her arms frantically, as her language could not be understood by the girl.
"I'm sorry, but I am going," Wendy declared, "And there is not a thing you can do to stop me. I know you have your duty to Peter, and if you would like, you may come with me. But either way, I am not staying here!"
The exasperated fairy threw up quite a noisy fit at this, and she pulled on her own hair to further exaggerate her frustration with this brazen girl. And yet, she was absolutely right – there was hardly a thing Tinker Bell could do to stop Wendy from leaving if she so wished it. And so she watched helpless as Wendy walked to the entrance and began hauling up one of the baskets from below.
Wendy had come to Neverland for an adventure, and an adventure she would very well have!
*AUTHOR'S NOTE: In response to some of your reviews and emails, a few of you have expressed either a desire to know where this story is headed or already seemed to have made premature conclusions to such an extent after only 3 chapters. To be quite honest, if I were to divulge such info, I would be giving away the whole story, as it is rather complex, and I would prefer for you the readers to see it unfold as it happens. This story is not quite so cut-and-dry as "it's Wendy-Peter" or "it's Wendy-Someone else." However, what I can tell you is that if you are a person who simply cannot stand to ever ever ever ever ever EVER imagine Wendy with someone other than Peter Pan, or Peter thinking of Wendy as anything else but the absolute sun, moon, and stars, then you might be disappointed. Though I should hope you would stick around and see how it goes anyway. :-)
And now, on to Chapter IV .....keep the comments coming!
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IV. THE OLD AND THE NEW
Imagine for a moment, if you can, that you were suddenly stricken blind at a very young age. Where you were once able to behold the most brilliant spectacles with not a second thought to the miracle of vision, now all you can see before you is a dull, black canvas. And there shall never again be anything else.
But then, one day, a wizard – perhaps Merlin himself – appears at the foot of your bed and tells you he has a brand new set of eyes for you, and he will happily hand them over if you only say the word. However, there is a catch; for you can only wear these new eyes for one day only, to drink on all the lovely sights that you have missed. And after your time has expired, you must forfeit them back to the wizard so that he may offer them to another unfortunate soul, thus leaving you once again to the darkness for the remainder of your days.
What would you, dear reader, say to an offer such as this? Would you take the eyes and spend one last glorious day to stare at the sun and flowers or gaze upon the precious faces of your loved ones? Or would you refuse the tempting proposal, for you would rather not be privy to all the wonderful things you have missed in your affliction and could not bear the heartache of having them stolen away from you once more?
If you have chosen the former option, they you may be able to better understand precisely how Wendy Darling was feeling as she was being led away to Neverland with Peter Pan for a second time. The boy had offered her one last chance of experiencing all the wonderful adventure that she had only tasted but once before and was almost certain to never come close to again after.
In all her girlish excitement at seeing Peter once more and being whisked off to Neverland, Wendy had, sadly, given little thought to how she may feel once she was back at her window, watching Peter and all the marvelous things he represented fly out of her life for most likely the very last time. Had she been just a little more grown-up, she probably would not have allowed herself to be resting upon that pink cloud at this very moment – she would have chosen to forfeit the magic eyes back to the wizard.
But such as it was, she lay on her back under the inviting Neverland sun to catch her breath after a lengthy journey across the stars. She had not remembered the trip being so arduous and tiring, and she would simply attribute it to her sleepiness.
Peter was not quite as sure about that. He had begun to grow fairly impatient with her, and nevermore was his irritation piqued as when she insisted they take a brief repose upon the clouds before continuing on to the island. 'Twas but another discouraging sign of her impending womanhood, he was convinced of it. And as he sat and watched her from another cloud, he tried to ignore the incessant buzzing about his head from Tinker Bell.
"You know what could happen, don't you?" she kept repeating in a very taunting manner.
"I shall not let it," he insisted. Then he cast a grave look upon his fairy. "And neither shall you."
Tinker Bell crossed her little arms, her wings fluttering haughtily. "She'd be better off thrown to the mermaids."
Peter felt the strongest urge just then to pluck Tinker Bell from out of midair and twist her tiny neck for saying such a thing. But he knew better how to win her approval.
"Tink," he began gently, the slightest grin creeping upon his lips, "I may not be able to keep as constant a watch as I would like over Wendy during her visit here. So I am trusting in you to step in and look after her if I cannot, for you are ever so much more resourceful and crafty than I. Will you be so kind as to oblige me this favor?"
Tinker Bell was far too small to resist the sweetness oozing from Peter as he spoke to her. She tried to avoid his charming grin, but alas, it was in vain.
"Do you really think of me so, Peter?" she gushed.
"Of course!" he insisted. "Why, there is not another creature in the world to whom I would extend such a lofty responsibility!"
Tinker Bell's little light beamed brighter than ever. "Then I shall do all I can to prove my worth to you!"
And with that, she tickled Peter's nose, and he giggled joyously. Never was there more delightful and loyal a companion to him than when his Tinker Bell was in high spirits.
Unbeknownst to the giddy twosome, Wendy had been quietly observing them from her own cloud for the duration of their conversation. One would assume that she would take an envious offense to Peter's closeness with the fairy, just as Tinker Bell had toward he and the girl. Rather to the contrary, Wendy sought great comfort in knowing that Peter had such a devoted ally to keep him company during the more lonely days and nights he must certainly spend in Neverland. The feisty little sprite would do just about anything for Peter, and Wendy was glad there was such a someone – or something – in Peter's life to look after him when she herself could not. And so she gave a contented smile as she watched the two companions interact as if an old married couple.
After a little while, Wendy deemed herself rested enough to resume their flight to the island. She drank in all the splendid sights as if for the very first time, and Peter once more delighted in showing off his beloved home to her. Everything was just as she had remembered and preserved in her dreams – the Mermaid's Lagoon, the Indian camp, the Black Castle...And most curiously, the Jolly Roger. The ominous pirate ship was still docked quietly a short distance from the Lagoon. Could this be the new residence for Peter Pan? Wendy could imagine it to be so, but it was to her surprise when Peter led her quite far from the ship toward the other side of the island, near Indian Territory, and came to land in a decidedly thick and dark portion of the jungle.
"What a dreadful little spot," Wendy proclaimed, trying to make out her bleak surroundings by means of the sole light source available – Tinker Bell. "Peter, why have we stopped here?"
Suddenly, Wendy realized that Peter seemed to have slipped away. She called out his name worriedly.
"Over here, Wendy," she heard him reply from about five yards to her left.
She followed the sound of his voice and Tinker Bell's glow until she caught up with him standing near a more huddled grouping of trees. He was tugging at a thick vine that seemed to be hanging from the summit of these trees above, and once Wendy was upon him, he took her hand and wrapped it firmly around the vine. He then told her to take a broad step forward, and when she did, she felt her foot slip into what felt like a large, sturdy basket attached to the vine. After she swung her other leg inside as well, Peter instructed her to pull hard upon the vine. She did so, and she found herself suddenly lurched a few inches upward.
Peter smiled mischievously within the darkness. "Meet you up top!"
And just like that, he shot straight upward and was gone. Out of mere reflex, Wendy called out after him, but it was for naught. And so, with a rather inconvenienced sigh, she continued to pull on the vine and hoist herself up the side of the trees. By the time she began seeing the merest inkling of daylight peer at her through the treetops above, she was quite convinced that her arms would simply fall off her body from all the pulling! How much higher did this blasted vine go?!
At long last, Wendy breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Peter above, standing on the edge of what looked to be a rather austere treehouse. Once she was close enough, Peter helped her out of the basket and onto the rickety wooden platform of his hideout. With a quick scan of the forest beyond, lest any enemies be lurking nearby, Peter released a deerskin flap, adorned with an array of indigenous leaves, from the top of the entrance and let it fall over the opening, shielding the occupants within from prying eyes.
Only when the hideout was properly concealed from the outside world did Tinker Bell then dare to light the small candles distributed sporadically throughout the home. As each one sprung to life, Wendy was able to absorb her surroundings a little at a time. The whole of the lair was no bigger than her bedroom in London, with only the barest of amenities to keep Peter and his mates provided for. The deerskin walls were reinforced with tree branches and lined all around the perimeter with small cots, 5 in all, made of the same (Peter's being the biggest and most garish, of course). A few minor shelves and tables had been crafted and affixed to the walls or set in corners, respectively. The center of the room was open space, and it was littered with animal skins and furs, crude maps, apple cores, and assorted weaponry. And Peter Pan stood proudly amongst all of it, most pleased with his humble little dwelling.
"Why, Peter, it's..." Wendy tiptoed around her words, not wanting to hurt the boy's feelings. "...so...quaint."
Peter had nary an inkling as to what that word meant, but he judged from Wendy's placating smile that it was a very fine appraisal indeed, and he smiled back broadly.
"And what exactly is that up there?" Wendy asked, pointing to what looked like a bucket protruding from the roof.
Peter explained that, since they had no fireplace, and Neverland became frightfully cold during the night (and when Peter was away), they had carved a skylight in the roof and attached a box to it, wherein it collected sunrays all day long, and once night fell, the box was removed and set in the center of the room where the rays could emit their pleasant warmth amongst the boys as they slept.
"What a lovely idea!" Wendy exclaimed. It was indeed, Peter thought. "So, you have some new Lost Boys, Peter?"
'Twas quite so, and Peter excitedly took a seat upon one of the fur rugs on the floor and began telling Wendy all about his most recent band of mates. Wendy as well took a seat next to him, most eager to hear everything.
There were four of them at the moment, each varying just as much in age and temperament as the crop of boys who now lived with Wendy in London. The first to arrive had been a small Irish boy whom Peter dubbed Ram Eye, for this was all the boy would say whence first arriving in Neverland, and it was much to Peter's secret embarrassment when he realized that the boy had actually been saying "Where am I?" through his thick accent!
Next came a rather shy boy, roughly the same age as Peter, although a tad bit on the portly side, as Tootles had been, and therefore posed no threat whatsoever to Peter's authority. His name was Dudley, but Peter preferred to call him "Doubly" in order to further remind him of his place. (To this, Wendy shook her head and told Peter he ought to be ashamed, but Peter only laughed and insisted that what Doubly lacked in physical appearance he made up for in a keen hunting prowess.)
The third Lost Boy was the youngest – only perhaps five or six years old – and his never-ending stream of queries about nearly everything helped him to obtain the name "Little Know-Nothing" by the Indians, which the Boys shortened to simply Know-No. Peter found him quite impertinent and often prone to getting lost or straying from the group. But he was a hearty little fighter, and so Peter resisted the temptation to feed him to the mermaids for supper.
The fourth and final boy to come to Neverland had the distinction of being the "brains" of the bunch. Named Specs for his frighteningly thick eyeglasses, he could both read and write, and do things with numbers that Peter could not have imagined. He had drawn up diagrams of Neverland of such astounding accuracy Peter had never seen, and these he showed to Wendy, who was equally impressed. She would have thought Peter to be jealous of this boy's skills, but in fact he was happy to have his abilities at his disposal and would rather Specs deal with all that inane intellectual rubbish than he!
Peter gleamed as he spoke of his new mates, telling Wendy that he harbored a true fondness for these boys despite the proud and indifferent façade he feigned. And then, as if his merely speaking of the boys somehow called to their spirits and summoned them, Peter and Wendy were suddenly interrupted by a frightful din of activity and hollering all about the hideout.
Peter leapt to his feet in such a manner that Wendy feared they were being attacked, and even more concerned did she become when Tinker Bell darted from her tiny house and began hastily snuffing out all the candles. Now the commotion was fully upon them and had overtaken the little treetop home, and Wendy was able to feel her way through the darkness and lean herself up against a wall and, hopefully, out of harm's way. Then she heard Peter call out:
"Will you blockheads be quiet!"
Almost immediately, the uproar died down. Several small voices whispered "Sorry, Peter" in response.
"Close the flap, Ram Eye," Peter was heard to instruct, and only a few short moments thereafter, the candles became lit again, one by one. And Wendy, still against the wall and quite inconspicuous, got her first look at the new Lost Boys.
"I told you boys not to be so bloody loud when entering the hideout!" Peter fumed, and Wendy blushed a little to hear him use such coarse language.
"We're very sorry, Peter," one of the boys, presumably Doubly, said. "But we have the most marvelous news!"
"Oh, yes, indeed!" another boy chimed in.
"Just fantastic!" squealed another.
And soon, the ruckus had been ignited anew, which Peter had to once again extinguish.
"Alright! Alright! Tell me your news, only do it quietly!"
A boy stepped forward, and Wendy decided it was Ram Eye. "Payter, we 'ave found the pirates treesure!" His accent gave him away soundly.
"Yes!" Doubly interjected. "Their entire supply hold!"
Peter's jaw fell agape. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure!" a boy with thick spectacles asserted. "Tucked away good and proper on the other side of Dead Man's Ditch."
"Why, there is nothing on the other side of Dead Man's Ditch but a straight drop onto Blind Man's Bluff," Peter wrote off.
"On the contrary," Specs said. "There is a hidden path along the incline of the ditch that leads to a hollow within the cliffside, facing the sea. Frankly, I don't know how we ever missed it before!"
Normally, Peter would have found news such as this quite distressing – that these inferior boys, although his best mates, should come upon so great a find as this without his participation would be a nasty blow to Peter's fragile ego indeed. But such a spectacular discovery it was that all Peter could think about was getting to it straight away and raiding it out but good!
"Show me at once!" Peter demanded greedily, his eyes growing large and mischievous.
The Lost Boys were only too happy to oblige and readily made toward the entrance to leave. Up until this point, Wendy had remained silent and quite undetected in her little corner of the room, but whence she saw Peter about to drop everything and go off to his little treasure hunt, she was compelled to step out of the shadows.
"But Peter, wait..." she entreated anxiously.
All other occupants of the tree home suddenly came to a dead halt and shot their little heads in her direction, and then the Boys gasped.
"What the divil is'at?" Ram Eye inquired, his eyes practically bulging from his head.
"It's a mermaid what's grown legs!" Doubly exclaimed.
"No, no, no," Peter shook his head. "That's just Wendy."
'Just Wendy'? She could not help but feel slightly offended at so dismissive an introduction.
"What's a 'Wendy'?" Little Know-No inquired.
Specs adjusted his glasses. "Why, 'tis a lady." He frowned. "A *grown-up* lady!"
And just like that, all eyes suddenly cast darkly upon Peter, including Wendy's.
"Oh...well, uh...," Peter stammered. "She's not really THAT grown-up..."
Wendy was pleased to finally hear him say so. But the Boys were not quite so easily convinced.
"She's practically ANCIENT!" Doubly cried out, swiftly putting a damper on Wendy's brief satisfaction.
All the Boys began talking at once again, mostly at Peter, who was finding himself being backed into a corner. Suddenly, he sprang into the air.
"What is all this, a mutiny?!" he bellowed, and the Boys clamed up. "She is not an enemy. She has come only for a day to tell us stories and mend our garments."
"Like a mother?" Specs asked, now a bit more at ease.
"Right!" Peter was quick to assure him.
"Aw, dash mothers!" Ram Eye exclaimed, his arms folded. "The 'ole reesen we came to Neverland in the farst plehce was to get awee from mothers!"
Peter laughed nervously. "But, she is not *really* our mother. It would only be a game!"
Know-No wrinkled his pug little nose. "Grown-ups can't play games."
Wendy was fast becoming fed-up with all this nonsense about her age, and she would have tossed up quite a juvenile row had Peter not stepped in and, surprisingly, acted the cooler head.
"Listen, we can talk about this later," he said. "Right now, we must get to the pirates hold before those scoundrels even know what's hit them!"
How quickly a child's attention can be diverted when enticed with treasures and adventure, and the Boys gave up a hearty cheer at Peter's words. Their captain corralled the bunch toward the opening of their tree home when Wendy again stepped forward, fully expecting to be included on this most intriguing exploit.
But alas, Peter turned to her promptly and held her at arms length.
"What are you doing?" he asked quickly.
"What does it look like?" she replied. "I am following you!"
"Oh, no, no, no," Peter shook his head earnestly. "This is no mission for a..."
He abruptly cut himself off as Wendy's countenance became severe.
"...for a *lady*!" he recovered. But this did little to dissuade Wendy.
"Peter, I am quite capable..." she tried to reason, but he cut her off now.
"No, you must stay here," he declared firmly. "Tink shall guard you lest any trouble comes about."
Tinker Bell could be heard huffing within her boudoir.
"I shall go with you, Peter!" Wendy insisted most vigorously.
"You can't!" Peter contended, putting Wendy in quite a dubious position. "Look, just stay here and...and tidy up the place or something!"
Were Wendy not such a lady, she surely would have belted Peter Pan right across his sassy little face. But she stayed her hand in favor of a grotesquely insulted expression, which Peter gave little notice to before hastily ushering his band of ruffians out of the hideout and into Intrigue's waiting arms.
Wendy made a move toward the entrance, and fast did she become starkly aware that she had no other recourse than to stay put, at least for the moment, as she had no means of escaping the tree home now that all the baskets had been lowered to the ground way below. So, she retreated back inside and paced indignantly. How DARE Peter act so impertinent and refuse her inclusion on their expedition! Why, if he were just a little smaller – or she a little bigger – she would swiftly take the boy over her knee and thrash him but good!
But, oh, what good should that do, besides convince Peter that she was nothing more than a stodgy old 'grown-up' as he and the rest of the Boys suspected. She must prove to them presently how capable she was of childish and frivolous things, just as spiritedly as they.
Wendy tossed a narrow look at Tinker Bell, who was sitting still within the entrance to her boudoir. The fairy met Wendy's gaze thusly, watching the disappointed girl as she treaded the rickety floorboards in deep thought. The fairy did not want to be there any more than Wendy, but not quite for the same reasons. The silence between them grew tense, until Wendy at last broke it.
"Well, Tinker Bell," she began confidently, "As much as I would love to stay in this little room and frolic gaily with you, I'm afraid I must follow Peter and the others."
Tinker Bell zipped quickly from her place and in front of Wendy, waving her arms frantically, as her language could not be understood by the girl.
"I'm sorry, but I am going," Wendy declared, "And there is not a thing you can do to stop me. I know you have your duty to Peter, and if you would like, you may come with me. But either way, I am not staying here!"
The exasperated fairy threw up quite a noisy fit at this, and she pulled on her own hair to further exaggerate her frustration with this brazen girl. And yet, she was absolutely right – there was hardly a thing Tinker Bell could do to stop Wendy from leaving if she so wished it. And so she watched helpless as Wendy walked to the entrance and began hauling up one of the baskets from below.
Wendy had come to Neverland for an adventure, and an adventure she would very well have!