Peter ran, and Wendy followed. The slush and snow did not slow him, and she refused to be left behind. Peter had said Mrs.Darling had seen him - so they knew that he was here, and knew that he and Wendy were going to be together. Wendy wondered if her parents even remembered Peter Pan. She thought they would, since grown ups seem to remember things better than children. This thought propelled her to run faster - she was running away again.
Peter looked to his right at Wendy, and motioned for them to cross the street. He did not even spare a look at the oncoming trolleys, instead just running directly in front of them. Horns blared at this shoeless boy, darting between them. A little girl, glancing apologetically at the drivers, followed him. She was truly sorry for his behaviour, she wanted to tell them, he doesn't remember ever seeing a car. But alas, she could not tell them, so she must be satisfied with glancing apologetically.
"Peter! Where are we going?" She asked, jogging to catch up with him, for he had slowed when he noticed how far behind she was lagging.
"To Kensington Gardens. To see the fairies." He replied matter-of-factly, as if he had just stated what was painfully obvious.
"Hide? Why would we - Fairies? Is Tinkerbell there?" Wendy asked, walking briskly along side him.
"Tinkerbell?" He thought for a moment. "Oh, her. No. She is still in Neverland. I told her to stay behind."
"Do you really think she'll listen to you?" Wendy asked him, rubbing her gloved hands together to warm them.
"She must, or else I will banish her again." Peter said, and Peter believed.
Wendy doubted that Tinkerbell ever listened to what Peter said. Tinkerbell was a very determined fairy: when Tink knew what she wanted, she went out and attempted to get it, whether she had Peter's permission or not. Wendy thought he must have forgotten about Tink for a moment because of all the things he was thinking about at the moment. Peter, like most children, thought about the here and now. In order for them to remember something in a week, month, or a year, you must make a deep impression on them. Indeed, Wendy and her brothers had done just that. Tinkerbell, despite being the one who found him and took him to Neverland, was not on his mind at this moment, so he had forgotten about her. One thing Wendy knew for sure - there was probably a fairy flying around London in search of Peter.
They walked farther, never stopping until they reached the gates of Kensington Gardens. Wendy had not been to the Gardens for some time - she had forgotten how big it was!
"Peter, where do the fairies live?" Wendy asked him, following him as he headed for a thickly forested area.
"They live near the big water. Under the water." Peter replied, not noticing Wendy's startled expression.
"U-Under the water? How are we to get to them then?" Wendy asked, dreading the answer she knew was coming.
"Swim, of course." Peter answered simply, winding his way through trails that only he and the fairies knew.
"But Peter, I cannot swim." Wendy said, following him closely.
"I shall help you. Don't worry, Wendy, nothing bad can happen to you while you are with me." Peter said, smiling his cocky smile.
Wendy could not help but smile. She did feel safe when she was with Peter, but she also felt that anything could happen, and that was not always so safe. She sighed, remembering that at least there were no pirates in London.
They passed through a section of the wood that seemed much brighter than the others. Peter told her how her had lived in these very trees with the birds, and how they had taught him to fly - with the help of the fairies and their fairy dust, of course. For one can never fly without the aide of fairy dust.
They soon came into a clearing, composed of a circle shape, about twenty feet in diameter, was left empty and bare. No grass grew in this small clearing. Wendy searched the landscape for life, but only found mushrooms. Tiny, perfectly capped mushrooms were scattered about the area.
"Peter! Look, aren't they darling!" Wendy crouched to pluck one, but Peter quickly pulled her hand away.
"Don't touch the mushrooms. They have fairy poison. It's only for grownups, but sometimes they change the rules." His serious look softened as he glanced about the trees. "Come on, we're almost there."
Peter took her hand and led her on. Wendy could not help but wonder why Peter looked so wistful. He must be remembering the days when he lived here, thought Wendy. He must be remembering when this was home! She had always wondered what it would be like if she were to live in Kensington Gardens. She supposed it would be awfully cold at night, but if only she had a fairy to help her along. Fairy magic might keep you warm.
When they had reached their destination, Wendy found that they were on the Northern border of the Round Pound. She surveyed her new surroundings, noticed that the pond was not frozen in this area, as it was on all parts of the pond. A warm glow radiated from this area, she noted as she glanced upon a blooming flower.
"Wendy, you mustn't eat or drink anything in there. It's fairy food. It's toxic to humans. Even I cannot eat it." Peter said. "When I count to three, we will jump in. I can pull you down to the gates."
"I can't breathe underwater, Peter!" Wendy exclaimed.
"Neither can I." He grinned. "One, two, three!"
They jumped.
Wendy expected the water to be icy cold, but it was, in fact, of a warm temperature. At a squeeze of her hand, she opened her tightly closed eyes to see Peter pointing down. She nodded, and they started their journey down. It was not too far, only about six feet, before they came before a large door, set lying on the ground. Peter knocked on it, tapping certain places in the large door. At the last knock, it opened.
The door was made of oak, heavy and solid, and it seemed to have opened by itself! Wendy was amazed. She almost made the mistake of opening her mouth to tell Peter what she thought of it, but thought better of it just in time. A bright light permeated from inside, before a sparkling shape of nearly eight inches appeared. Peter made a few motions with his hands that Wendy did not understand, but the fairy seemed to. The fairy led them down.
Wendy nearly squealed in shock as she passed through the doorway. She was no longer swimming, she was lying on the floor! And she could breathe! Peter smiled at her, before giving her his hand. She also noticed that her clothes and hair were dry, just as Peter's were. She stood, the astonishment still visible on her face.
"Is this...the fairy palace?" Wendy asked tentatively, grasping Peter's hand tight.
"Yes, it is. I told him that we want to see the Fairy Queen. Actually, she sent for me." Peter said, trying to hide the butterlfies in his stomach.
"Why did she send for you?" Wendy asked him, wondering why he looked so pale all of a sudden.
"I think she wants me to relay a message to her son, the Fairy Prince. He lives in Neverland." Peter replied, not so sure that that was the answer.
"Why are these hallways so big?" Wendy asked, once again amazed at the sheer height (or was it width?) of these hallways.
"Fairies expect visitors bigger than themselves. They have links to the human world, and when the humans come to the palace, they must be able to fit." Peter said simply, his hand still holding Wendy's. "There was great mess once when a human friend of the fairies tried to get in. He couldn't fit, so he drowned."
Wendy gasped. Peter could be so morbid sometimes, without realizing how ghastly it might sound to other children.
The fairy guide led them to another large door, except these were not wood. They were gold. The guide squeaked and chirped, as Wendy had heard, and Peter squeaked and chirped right back. They were really speaking the fairy language - Wendy found it just enchanting.
"We're going to see the Queen." Peter whispered to Wendy.
She squeezed his hand.
The door was opened.
On dry land, far from the world of fairies and enchantment, Mr. and Mrs.Darling were frantically explaining their story to the police. With certain parts taken out for sheer sanity, of course.
The story, as it was told to the police, was as follows: Wendy Moira Angela Darling was a good girl, who never got into trouble. She and her brothers (they said all eight of them, just to keep from explaining the whole story) ran away, and then returned some time later. Now the boy was back, and he had taken Wendy. They had to clarify that she had probably went of her own free will, for it would be quite odd if they found her playing happily in Kensington Gardens with the boy, being hunted like a captive.
But alas, Peter and Wendy were not to be found in Kensington Gardens. And the police would never think to look under it.
After the police had been notified of Wendy, Mr.Darling left for work. Despite that he would not be able to concentrate on figures and balance sheets with his daughter out somewhere in London with "that fiend". Mrs.Darling, on the other hand, stayed home and waited. She sat in the rocking chair by the window in the nursery, just as she had done when they were in Neverland.
They trusted Wendy, and they knew she was a responsible young girl. They did not know Peter, but they did know that he had wanted Wendy to stay with him in Neverland. Mr.Darling had an absurd theory that Peter was going to brainwash her. Mrs.Darling laughed at him over that. Mrs.Darling had felt that notifying the police was going too far, but Mr.Darling had insisted, and Mrs.Darling finally relented in her refusal. If Wendy were to be seen on the streets, at least they would know she was safe.
As most parents get when they do not know the whereabouts of their little ones, the Darlings were worried.
Mrs.Darling fell asleep in the rocking chair, the clothes of leaves hugged to her chest.
Peter looked to his right at Wendy, and motioned for them to cross the street. He did not even spare a look at the oncoming trolleys, instead just running directly in front of them. Horns blared at this shoeless boy, darting between them. A little girl, glancing apologetically at the drivers, followed him. She was truly sorry for his behaviour, she wanted to tell them, he doesn't remember ever seeing a car. But alas, she could not tell them, so she must be satisfied with glancing apologetically.
"Peter! Where are we going?" She asked, jogging to catch up with him, for he had slowed when he noticed how far behind she was lagging.
"To Kensington Gardens. To see the fairies." He replied matter-of-factly, as if he had just stated what was painfully obvious.
"Hide? Why would we - Fairies? Is Tinkerbell there?" Wendy asked, walking briskly along side him.
"Tinkerbell?" He thought for a moment. "Oh, her. No. She is still in Neverland. I told her to stay behind."
"Do you really think she'll listen to you?" Wendy asked him, rubbing her gloved hands together to warm them.
"She must, or else I will banish her again." Peter said, and Peter believed.
Wendy doubted that Tinkerbell ever listened to what Peter said. Tinkerbell was a very determined fairy: when Tink knew what she wanted, she went out and attempted to get it, whether she had Peter's permission or not. Wendy thought he must have forgotten about Tink for a moment because of all the things he was thinking about at the moment. Peter, like most children, thought about the here and now. In order for them to remember something in a week, month, or a year, you must make a deep impression on them. Indeed, Wendy and her brothers had done just that. Tinkerbell, despite being the one who found him and took him to Neverland, was not on his mind at this moment, so he had forgotten about her. One thing Wendy knew for sure - there was probably a fairy flying around London in search of Peter.
They walked farther, never stopping until they reached the gates of Kensington Gardens. Wendy had not been to the Gardens for some time - she had forgotten how big it was!
"Peter, where do the fairies live?" Wendy asked him, following him as he headed for a thickly forested area.
"They live near the big water. Under the water." Peter replied, not noticing Wendy's startled expression.
"U-Under the water? How are we to get to them then?" Wendy asked, dreading the answer she knew was coming.
"Swim, of course." Peter answered simply, winding his way through trails that only he and the fairies knew.
"But Peter, I cannot swim." Wendy said, following him closely.
"I shall help you. Don't worry, Wendy, nothing bad can happen to you while you are with me." Peter said, smiling his cocky smile.
Wendy could not help but smile. She did feel safe when she was with Peter, but she also felt that anything could happen, and that was not always so safe. She sighed, remembering that at least there were no pirates in London.
They passed through a section of the wood that seemed much brighter than the others. Peter told her how her had lived in these very trees with the birds, and how they had taught him to fly - with the help of the fairies and their fairy dust, of course. For one can never fly without the aide of fairy dust.
They soon came into a clearing, composed of a circle shape, about twenty feet in diameter, was left empty and bare. No grass grew in this small clearing. Wendy searched the landscape for life, but only found mushrooms. Tiny, perfectly capped mushrooms were scattered about the area.
"Peter! Look, aren't they darling!" Wendy crouched to pluck one, but Peter quickly pulled her hand away.
"Don't touch the mushrooms. They have fairy poison. It's only for grownups, but sometimes they change the rules." His serious look softened as he glanced about the trees. "Come on, we're almost there."
Peter took her hand and led her on. Wendy could not help but wonder why Peter looked so wistful. He must be remembering the days when he lived here, thought Wendy. He must be remembering when this was home! She had always wondered what it would be like if she were to live in Kensington Gardens. She supposed it would be awfully cold at night, but if only she had a fairy to help her along. Fairy magic might keep you warm.
When they had reached their destination, Wendy found that they were on the Northern border of the Round Pound. She surveyed her new surroundings, noticed that the pond was not frozen in this area, as it was on all parts of the pond. A warm glow radiated from this area, she noted as she glanced upon a blooming flower.
"Wendy, you mustn't eat or drink anything in there. It's fairy food. It's toxic to humans. Even I cannot eat it." Peter said. "When I count to three, we will jump in. I can pull you down to the gates."
"I can't breathe underwater, Peter!" Wendy exclaimed.
"Neither can I." He grinned. "One, two, three!"
They jumped.
Wendy expected the water to be icy cold, but it was, in fact, of a warm temperature. At a squeeze of her hand, she opened her tightly closed eyes to see Peter pointing down. She nodded, and they started their journey down. It was not too far, only about six feet, before they came before a large door, set lying on the ground. Peter knocked on it, tapping certain places in the large door. At the last knock, it opened.
The door was made of oak, heavy and solid, and it seemed to have opened by itself! Wendy was amazed. She almost made the mistake of opening her mouth to tell Peter what she thought of it, but thought better of it just in time. A bright light permeated from inside, before a sparkling shape of nearly eight inches appeared. Peter made a few motions with his hands that Wendy did not understand, but the fairy seemed to. The fairy led them down.
Wendy nearly squealed in shock as she passed through the doorway. She was no longer swimming, she was lying on the floor! And she could breathe! Peter smiled at her, before giving her his hand. She also noticed that her clothes and hair were dry, just as Peter's were. She stood, the astonishment still visible on her face.
"Is this...the fairy palace?" Wendy asked tentatively, grasping Peter's hand tight.
"Yes, it is. I told him that we want to see the Fairy Queen. Actually, she sent for me." Peter said, trying to hide the butterlfies in his stomach.
"Why did she send for you?" Wendy asked him, wondering why he looked so pale all of a sudden.
"I think she wants me to relay a message to her son, the Fairy Prince. He lives in Neverland." Peter replied, not so sure that that was the answer.
"Why are these hallways so big?" Wendy asked, once again amazed at the sheer height (or was it width?) of these hallways.
"Fairies expect visitors bigger than themselves. They have links to the human world, and when the humans come to the palace, they must be able to fit." Peter said simply, his hand still holding Wendy's. "There was great mess once when a human friend of the fairies tried to get in. He couldn't fit, so he drowned."
Wendy gasped. Peter could be so morbid sometimes, without realizing how ghastly it might sound to other children.
The fairy guide led them to another large door, except these were not wood. They were gold. The guide squeaked and chirped, as Wendy had heard, and Peter squeaked and chirped right back. They were really speaking the fairy language - Wendy found it just enchanting.
"We're going to see the Queen." Peter whispered to Wendy.
She squeezed his hand.
The door was opened.
On dry land, far from the world of fairies and enchantment, Mr. and Mrs.Darling were frantically explaining their story to the police. With certain parts taken out for sheer sanity, of course.
The story, as it was told to the police, was as follows: Wendy Moira Angela Darling was a good girl, who never got into trouble. She and her brothers (they said all eight of them, just to keep from explaining the whole story) ran away, and then returned some time later. Now the boy was back, and he had taken Wendy. They had to clarify that she had probably went of her own free will, for it would be quite odd if they found her playing happily in Kensington Gardens with the boy, being hunted like a captive.
But alas, Peter and Wendy were not to be found in Kensington Gardens. And the police would never think to look under it.
After the police had been notified of Wendy, Mr.Darling left for work. Despite that he would not be able to concentrate on figures and balance sheets with his daughter out somewhere in London with "that fiend". Mrs.Darling, on the other hand, stayed home and waited. She sat in the rocking chair by the window in the nursery, just as she had done when they were in Neverland.
They trusted Wendy, and they knew she was a responsible young girl. They did not know Peter, but they did know that he had wanted Wendy to stay with him in Neverland. Mr.Darling had an absurd theory that Peter was going to brainwash her. Mrs.Darling laughed at him over that. Mrs.Darling had felt that notifying the police was going too far, but Mr.Darling had insisted, and Mrs.Darling finally relented in her refusal. If Wendy were to be seen on the streets, at least they would know she was safe.
As most parents get when they do not know the whereabouts of their little ones, the Darlings were worried.
Mrs.Darling fell asleep in the rocking chair, the clothes of leaves hugged to her chest.