Hall of Mirrors
Disclaimer: Er. I don't own Peter Pan; actually I don't really want to; I mean, I like it, but it's quite strange, really.
"Go to your room, Jimmy!" The sullen-looking three-year-old glared at the speaker. His father towered above him, an avalanche of sound and movement. Jimmy obeyed sulkily, his short, black curls bouncing as he walked. Inside his room, he looked around. It was a small room, not really big enough for a child. It had once been the broom cupboard, but now Jimmy had it for his very own. Scowling, Jimmy stalked over to the corner and dug out an old, very battered, toy sword. He swished it through the air a few times, experimentally. Then, shrieking, "Ha-ha!" he leaped onto the bed and began having a ferocious duel with nothing.
It ended after a few minutes with Jimmy the victor, hot and panting. He went over to the small window of his room, constructed after it ceased to be a broom cupboard, and popped his head out, into the cold, cloyingly moist air of a London pea-souper. The chill air cut like a knife into his lungs, and he took deep breaths, enjoying the sensation of a mouthful of cloud. He pulled his socks and shoes off and sat on the window ledge, dangling his feet out, pretending he was wading in a great white ocean.
"Jimmy!" shouted his father from somewhere outside the room. Jimmy started in surprise and turned, scrabbling to get back in his room before his father came in. He had his knees on the ledge now, and he brought up his left foot to stand on it, but the ledge was slick from the moisture in the fog, and he slipped. His foot shot backwards and down, and the momentum dragged Jimmy off the window ledge and out of the window. He fell…
…Jimmy blinked his eyes slowly and looked around. He couldn't quite remember what had happened, how he had come to be where he was. Shrugging slightly, he decided it didn't matter, as long as his father weren't here to spoil this, too. He staggered to his feet and looked about him. He was standing on a sandy beach, near a small inlet of blue ocean. From somewhere out of sight he could hear the sounds of singing and laughter, in high, girlish voices. Yawning and stretching, he moved off in the direction of the sounds.As he came into view of the people making the sounds, his face split into a broad grin. Three young ladies were sunning themselves on the rocks near the center of a tiny cove. The rocks were shaped in obligingly couch-and-bed-like formations, and covered with a fine, downy, green moss, as soft as velvet. One of the girls was blond, one brunette, and one a redhead. They all held bright mirrors with gleaming mother-of-pearl handles, and they were all combing their long, waist-length hair. Surprisingly, instead of legs, they each sported a long, lithe, green fish-tail, covered with shimmering scales.
Jimmy smiled at the mermaids, and bowed politely. "Good day," he said, his youthful voice filling the whole grotto.
"Oh!" exclaimed the redheaded mermaid, daintily surprised. The other two splashed their tails in greeting, giggled, and preened their hair.
"Er…" said Jimmy, brushing a hand through his curly hair. "Er, could you tell me where I am?"
The blond and the brunette both went off in fits of giggles, but the redhead, who seemed the most mature of the three, replied smilingly, "Don't you know, little boy? This is the Never Never Land."
"What does that mean?" Jimmy asked ingenuously, but the redhead just shrugged.
"It just means that that is what Here is called, you know. Don't you usually have a name for Here?"
"I s'pose I do," Jimmy conceded.
"I like this place," he decided suddenly. "I don't think I shall ever leave."
"Well, be sure and don't grow up, then!" giggled the redheaded mermaid. Then, with a merry wave, she flipped up her tail and dove gracefully into the water with a very quiet plop. Jimmy surveyed the place where she had disappeared with silent interest. "I shan't, then," he replied to the waves.
Jimmy had soon learned a good deal about the Never Never Land. Some of his information he gleaned from its inhabitants, but most of it, he found he simply knew when he woke up in the morning. He decided it must not be needed at night, and so it just floated about until the morning, and it often ended up beside Jimmy's bed (which was a small one, made partly by himself, and partly by his imagination, and located in a small underground cave) so that he picked it up, being an early riser on principle.
One day, he was awakened even earlier than usual, by some thumping, bumbling sounds. "Who's there?" he called out sleepily and got out of bed to investigate.
Two boys were standing in the room. One was tall and quite skinny, with large, limpid blue eyes and lank brown hair almost down to his chin. The other was much shorter, and had wiry, coppery hair and bright green eyes. He was smiling in a bewildered sort of manner, and one shoulder was raised above the other, giving him a lopsided, misshapen look.
"Good morning, gen'lemen," Jimmy said politely. He had found that he could be as elegant as he liked here, and it always sort of--worked. It was amazingly good fun.
"Er…hello," said the taller one in a quiet, slightly timid voice.
"G'day!" replied the other with an excited grin.
"What are your names?" Jimmy enquired, as grandly as he could.
"Um…" the taller one replied.
The other gave a cheery shrug, which involved a weird contortion which made him look even more pathetic and grotesque than before.
"Don't you know?" Jimmy asked scathingly. The taller child took a nervous step backward and quickly shook his head. Jimmy sighed heavily, overly dramatic.
"I suppose I shall just have to come up with names for the both of you," he said grudgingly.
"Yes, please," said the taller child gratefully, and the other bobbed his head in thanks.
"Very well. Let's see…you shall be…Sneer," he said, pointing to the shorter child, who sniggered at the name and then gabbled a quick, "Thank you."
"And you--" he pointed to the other, who was standing, still nervous, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Your name is Tark."
"Tark?"
Jimmy glared at the boy. "You heard what I said."
"Er…yes, sir," the boy said quickly.
"Thank you. Now, I am tired. I shall go to bed."
"Um…all right," Tark agreed, and Sneer grinned a little and nodded too.
It was an unidentified length of time later. In Never Never Land, lengths of time were never identified, except as being, "long", or "short", or sometimes "a bit shorter than long". This length of time had been somewhat longer than short. Eight new small boys had mysteriously appeared overnight and Jimmy had accepted all of them into his rough-and-tumble band, after having grudgingly decided on a name for each. Sneer and Tark were rather inclined to preen themselves when Jimmy was not there, on being the two earliest arrivals, but when Jimmy was there, it was he whom all the boys respected and reverenced. (Sneer, in fact, had his own definition of the word 'reverence', which involved lying down and pretending to be a doormat whenever Jimmy entered the room). Naturally, the success went to Jimmy's head a bit, and so he tended to strut and swagger, but none of the boys minded this in the least, since they all liked to have a leader, for it made decisions a good deal less complicated (that is, to be precise, it made them non-existent).
One day, when the boys were eating supper, which was half real, half make-believe, the smallest of them all, Noodles, looked up with a queer expression on his face.
"What's the matter, Noodles?" asked Wiggly, the second smallest.
"I was just thinkin'," Noodles answered, an unusually contemplative look on his face.
"What about?" chorused the rest of the boys, with the exception of Jimmy, who as leader was above bothering to ask such questions, and Sneer, who never did anything quite like anyone else.
"I was just thinkin' 'bout muvvers," Noodles lisped quietly. There was a sudden, dead silence at the table, finally broken by two voices. One was Jimmy's, saying, "It's 'mothers', Noodles", and the other was Sneer asking, "What's a muv--I mean, what's a mother?"
Jimmy turned to look at him. "Don't you know, Sneer?" he asked, incredulously. Sneer shook his head, a curious look on his cheerful, pudgy face.
"Well, er, a mother is…er…" Jimmy began, finding it surprisingly hard to explain. All the boys were leaning in toward him now, expectantly. Just then, a small mouse whisked across the room, closely followed by ten or eleven of her progeny. Most of them reached the other side in safety, but the smallest of them tripped over a left over crumb and fell with an inaudible bump. The mother raced back to the baby, helped it up, and ran with it into a hole in the wall on the other side of the room.
"There is a lesson in mothers for you!" Jimmy cried triumphantly. "The baby was left behind, and the mother was frightened of us, but would she leave behind her child?"
Awed, the boys all shook their heads. Wiggly piped up, "Don't we have a mother, Jimmy?"
Jimmy shrugged a little. "I suppose if you really want a mother, I could get one for you," he conceded.
"Oh, Jimmy, could you?" all the boys chorused together.
"Well, I suppose, as a very great favor…" Jimmy grinned at them. "All right. It will be such an adventure!"
Eliza York was lying in her little cot in the small, London flat. She was dreaming. She wasn't quite sure what she was dreaming about, though. Little scenes flitted in and out of her mind, like little pieces of clarity on an island wreathed in fog. Her eyes were shut tight, and her lips were smudged with brown from some chocolate her mother had allowed her to have before bed-time, though her father said she was growing too old for such childish trivialities. She was, after all, almost twelve years old.
"A-hem," a voice said by her bedside.
"Oh!" she gave a little gasp and wakened suddenly, her bright blue eyes gazing around the room in half-frightened excitement--or perhaps half-excited fright. She found she had no need to be alarmed, however. A boy of indeterminate age was standing by her bed, dressed in a grubby red costume which sported several rips, and a few colorful, lopsided patches. The red complemented his wild black curls and fierce dark eyes wonderfully, and he looked a very dashing figure indeed as he stood there with the light of the moon in his hair, and the light of the sun in his eyes.
"Why, boy, who are you?" Eliza exclaimed.
"My name's Jimmy," the little boy responded, blushing a little.
"I'm very pleased to meet you," Eliza said primly, holding out her hand.
"Er…pleased t'meet you, too," Jimmy said, and taking her hand gallantly in his own, brought it almost to his lips and then dropped it, saying, "Little girl-lady, will you be our--my mother?"
"Don't you have a mother?" Eliza asked, astonished. Jimmy shook his head sadly, becoming the very picture of woe. "No. Not me, nor the other ten boys who live with me."
"There are eleven of you!"
"Yes, ma'am, there are, and we sorely need a mother."
"Well…" Eliza considered, head on one side. "Are you very desperate, my lad?"
"Oh, yes, dreadfully!" Jimmy replied, with a cheerfulness that somewhat belied his statement.
"Well…" Eliza demurred a little.
Jimmy dropped melodramatically to one knee, "Please, lady!"
"Oh, all right, if it means that much to you."
Jimmy leaped to his feet and gave out a weird hooting yell, startling Eliza a little. Then he grabbed her hand and leaped to the window, pulling her out with a terrified shriek after him.
They flew over white, fluffy clouds toward the stars, Jimmy teaching Eliza to fly on the way. Eliza watched him turn effortless somersaults in front of her, as she tried to keep up, his curls bobbing in the wind, his dark eyes flashing with fire and energy. The world rolled lazily away beneath them--blue oceans, yellow plains, lush green jungles. Their journey was timeless, and Eliza never tired, or at least she didn't think she did--sometimes things seemed to swim a little, and when they came into focus, Jimmy was gallantly allowing her to lean on his arm, but she never had a sensation of being tired, or of falling asleep. And so time passed, until one--day? night? morning?--Eliza found herself staring down at a tiny island in the middle of a great dark sea, half-obscured with wisps of puffy cloud.
Jimmy gave a merry, hooting laugh, and suddenly shot downward into a graceful swan dive toward the island. Eliza hovered in the air for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then followed, using her arms as a swimmer might, almost dog-paddling in her haste to catch up with the boy. Suddenly, several bright, twinkling lights whizzed out until they were by her ear. She heard a light tinkle of bells, sounding almost like delicate laughter, and then suddenly, she realized she was flying straight into a tree.
Eliza banked sharply to the right, but the quick motion upset her balance, and she tumbled end over end through the air. Images flashed into her disoriented mind--water, wood, a man with a spyglass trained on the horizon, a black flag with a white skull-and-crossbones on it--and then she fell to the bucking, heaving deck of a great ship, and a dozen leering heads turned to look at her.
Jimmy landed with a leap outside the little cave the boys called home. "Boys!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. There was a tumbling, scrambling rush, and all the boys ran, fell, or rolled out before him.
"Yes, Jimmy?" asked Sneer.
"I have found you a mother!" Jimmy announced proudly.
"Hurray!" cried all the boys.
"Where is she?" asked Tark.
"Oh, she'll be along in a moment, I'm sure," Jimmy responded, waving his hand airily.
Sneer cackled his pleasure and the other boys murmured in delight, nervous with the tension of waiting. Moments ticked slowly by, and nothing happened. Suddenly, three little balls of light zoomed down from the sky, tinkling with a wild sound of alarmed bells.
"Fairies!" exclaimed Jimmy, surprised.
"What do they say?" asked Tark, then blushed to reveal his ignorance of their language. Jimmy bent toward them, an expression of deep concentration written into his chubby child's face. "They say…oh no! They say that the pretty lady who was coming behind me--that is Eliza, she is to be our mother, you know--they say that she fell and was caught by the dread pirate Barbecue!"
"Oh, despair!" cried Wiggly in horror.
"Whatever shall we do?" exclaimed Tark.
"I know what we shall do!" cried Jimmy, adopting a stance of greatest heroism. "We shall rescue her!"
"Er…Jimmy…D'you think that's wise?" asked Sneer, hobbling up to his Captain with a quizzical look on his plump face.
Jimmy turned on him with wrathful eyes, "What do you suggest we do? Leave her to die!"
The other boys shook their heads and clucked disapprovingly at Sneer.
"Sorry," murmured Sneer. "I just thought--Barbecue is the only man Flint ever feared, isn't he?"
"Yes? Are you suggesting that we cannot defeat him?"
"Well, um, um…" Sneer paused doubtfully, seeing the anger in Jimmy's face. "Er…no, of course not. I was just…"
"He was lending a word of caution," Tark finished for him, quickly, before Sneer could say something else to incur their leader's wrath.
"Very well, then," Jimmy said, though not wholly appeased. "But we can defeat him. I know we can."
Eliza felt silent tears coursing down her cheeks as she was bound hand and foot to the mast by the pirates. She felt frightened and alone, and she wondered where in the world Jimmy was. She stood in silent terror for a few minutes, and then a man approached. He was a big man, who wore a blue jacket with gold buttons and gold trimming. His hair was a light red, bleached from the sun. He had only one eye, which glinted a crafty green-gray.
"My dear young woman, what a delightful surprise this is," he said calmly, bowing to her in mock solemnity.
Eliza, though half-frozen with fear, managed to gabble out, "Who are you?"
"Don't you know me, my dear? My name is John Philip Barbecue, the only man whom Flint ever feared!"
"F-f-f-flint?"
"Yes, Flint, one of the most daring and unscrupulous pirates that ever sailed the seven seas!"
"Oh," Eliza replied in a small voice.
"Now, my dear, I'm not an unreasonable man. I don't need a woman on my ship--by God, I don't--so I'll give you your freedom if in exchange you'll tell me all you know about this youngster known as--Jimmy." A shadow of something almost like fear passed across Captain Barbecue's face, but it was gone almost as suddenly as it had come.
Eliza squared her shoulders. "Never!" she cried defiantly.
Captain Barbecue's face turned an ugly purple with rage. "Very well, Miss, you've signed your own death warrant! So be it! To the plank with her!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" answered another pirate, hurrying forward to untie Eliza, who, despite her courageous stance, was quaking with fear beneath.
"Captain John Philip Barbecue!" called a new voice, suddenly, from above. Barbecue's face paled, and he glanced up. A small boy had alighted on the tip of the mast, and Eliza felt a cheer rising within her as she saw Jimmy's bright, eager face, ruddy with the wind, and behind him, the rest of his gallant band of boys.
"Up, boys!" cried Jimmy, raising a battered tin sword high above his head. The boys dove forward with a joyful yell.
"And AT THEM!" Jimmy shouted, dropping the sword to point at the pirates waiting below. The boys swarmed down, and within a very short time there was a free-for-all going, bloodier than any seen by any pirate outside of Never Never Land, including the dreaded Flint.
There is no need to go into all the gory details, so suffice to say that once the boys had triumphed over the pirates, leaving only Barbecue, Jimmy himself fought Barbecue man to man. Barbecue, no matter how hard he tried, could not land a blow anywhere near Jimmy, who danced out from his reach as easily as a sprite evading a clumsy ox. Finally, Barbecue, exhausted and driven to the point of desperation, cried out, "Jimmy, fiend who plucked out my eye and threw it to a passing snake, that nemesis which has haunted me ever since, who--who and what art thou?"
Jimmy leaped up, spinning his sword to flash in a scintillating arch above him. "I am youth; I am laughter; I am a little bud that has burst into bloom!"
"To't again!" cried Barbecue, but a fell mood had descended on him--he knew he would not--could not--win, and his parries and blows were as half-hearted and feeble as those of an adult at play. Soon, Jimmy had him pinned to the rail of the boat. A hissing, whispering murmur heralded the arrival of the snake which had become the beneficiary of Barbecue's eye--its own eyes glinting, it awaited the advent of its long-sought-after prey.
"Jimmy…" cried Barbecue, as he stepped backward toward the snake's waiting jaws. "Nothing can express in what utter scorn I hold you!"
"John Philip Barbecue, thou not completely pusillanimous figure--farewell!"
The snake's jaws flashed once, and Barbecue was gone.
Jimmy strutted into the middle of the blood-stained deck, offering his arm gallantly to Eliza. "We shall take you home, ma'am," he said courteously to her. "And in the future, we shall be the crew of the Jolly Roger! Shan't we, boys!"
"Aye, aye, Captain!" crowed the boys.
"Let's see, we'll need new names," Jimmy mused. Pointing to them one after another, he named them, Wiggly and Noodles first, then the other boys, then Tark, "Wibbles, Noodler, Cecco, Bill Jukes, Cookson, Skylights, Robert Mullins, Canary Robb, and finally, Gentleman Starkey!"
The pointing figure now gestured to Sneer. "And you--"
"Um…can I be 'Smee'?"
"I suppose so," Jimmy sighed at what he considered his boatswain's lack of originality.
"And I…I am that terror of the seven seas, the only boy whom Barbecue ever feared (and Flint himself feared Barbecue)--Captain James Hook!"
For a second, he appeared taller, with long, black ringlets, and a vicious sneer marked on his face. Just for a second, Eliza thought she saw a glint of metal where his right hand should be--and then all that was gone, and there was only the laughing smiling Jimmy that she knew so well…and they were going home…
Liza smiled at her new-found son and stirred the embers in the stove of their small, cramped quarters into a fiery blaze. "I'm glad you're here, Slightly," she said to him.
"I'm glad to be here too, Mother," Slightly replied, face glowing with happiness.
A wistful look took hold of Liza's face for a moment. "You say Captain Hook is dead?" she asked.
"Yes--the crocodile ate him, boots, coat and all!" Slightly replied in a carefree manner. Liza sighed audibly. "You should go to bed now, my lad," she told Slightly.
"Oh, very well, Mother."
As the boy trudged off to his room, Liza stared into the flickering flames. For a moment she thought she could almost see the outline of a laughing boy, dancing black hair, and deep dark eyes…and then the image was gone. She sighed, and turned, and followed Slightly into the bedroom.