" Won't you even look at me, Peter?" asked Wendy.
"No". Peter was lying on his stomach in the dirt, pretending to concentrate on the marbles scattered in front of him.
"Why not?" she had to hold a hand up to her mouth to hide a smile. The sight of Peter sulking like one of her brothers was very amusing.
" Because. You grew up. Grown up people are. . .ugly."
"Really? Well, I had no choice you know."
"Yes you did."
"Did I?" she asked.
" YES! You could have stayed here!" he practically yelled, sweeping all the marbles away.
" Peter you know that I made a promise. I promised Captain Hook that-"
" I know! I know what you promised! But that didn't mean you had to go home and grow up!"
" I wanted to see my mother again. And my father. Don't you understand that, Peter?''
"No."
She sighed.
" Well, at least let me say thank you for sending Stutter to guide me."
Peter turned over then.
" Well, I made a promise too, didn't I?" he winced a little when he saw her, and shook his head." So, you really didn't forget how to fly?"
She grinned. " Of course not. I used to practice it every night."
" Really?" he grinned back, forgiving her suddenly at the promise of a good story.
"Yes, but I had to be careful, else I might be seen. So, I. . ." she began to use her story -teller's voice and before long Peter was entranced in a story of her, as she flew all over London at night, knocking on windows and causing mischief. Of course, it was not all true.
Actually, most of it was exaggeration on what she wished she could do, or had done, but it made Peter laugh, and that was more important than telling the truth.
When she was finished, he lay back, still grinning.
" Oh, Wendy. I missed your stories."
" Did you miss me, Peter?" she asked, with a slightly teasing tone.
" I missed your stories." he said, his voice cool.
" I see." she smiled to herself.
They were silent a long time.
" Are you really going to go back to him, Wendy?" Peter asked, at last.
" Yes. I must keep my word."
" It doesn't make sense."
" Why doesn't it?''
" Because, he knows that if you don't go back, we will be prepared. He can't sneak in and kill us! You stay here, and when he comes we can fight him! " Peter explained.
Wendy stifled another laugh.
" But, Peter, that isn't the point! There is my honor. No matter what happens or doesn't happen, I can never live with myself if I said I was too cowardly to return. Besides, I have my family back in London to consider. I must think of their safety too."
Peter snorted.
" Fine. Talk like a grown up then. Why not just go and fight him I still say? We could take over the ship! There are more of us now. . ."
" No Peter. That is just a game. I am speaking of reality." she said.
He gave up.
" You act as if you want to go back!" he huffed, not noticing that Wendy ducked her head, hiding a smile and a blush. " Well, go on then. I don't care!"
" I am not afraid of dying, " she offered, then she yawned, "But, if I am to die tomorrow, I do want a good night's sleep first. Is it too much to ask for a place to sleep?"
There was really no sense in re-establishing a friendship, if she were going to die, and Peter was going to be impossible.
" W-w-we b-b-built you a n-new house, M-m-miss Wendy. " said Stutter, speaking up from the corner.
Peter only snorted again.
" Why, thank you!" she said. " Well, good night, Peter." she said.
" Good night." he said pretending for all the world as though he truly did not care.
Well perhaps he doesn't, she thought.
She said goodnight to all the other boys, and followed Stutter outside.
What she saw really did make her laugh. . .There was her house! Only it was bigger, just the right size for a grown-up Wendy!
" Oh, it's marvelous! " she said. '' Thank you so much for everything, Stutter." Again he bowed. and left her to herself.
Inside she found her carpet bag waiting for her, and a soft bed made from golden autumn leaves and silky feathers. She curled up on it, as she had when she was a little girl, and found that even with her knowledge of what tomorrow was to bring, she felt sleepy. So very sleepy, and oddly,. . .she also felt content.
Truly, it was good to be home, even it was only for a few hours of the night.
" Now, promise me Peter, that you won't try to do anything foolish." Wendy demanded.
" Such as?''
"Such as trying to rescue me. . ." she said.
He frowned.
" Promise me Peter!" she demanded.
" I promise." he said, sullenly.
Wendy held out her hand.
" So long Peter. I have had some wonderful times here." she said solemnly.
He shook her hand briefly, then dropped it. She waved goodbye to the other lost boys, who stood in awe around the pier. Most of them did not even remember her, for such was the way with Neverland. It was easy to forget anything that was not near to you always.
The fact that Peter had remembered her so well, was in fact part of the reason she knew he was only pretending to not like her.
The Captain had been right, long ago. Peter had cared, and still, deep inside he was nursing a wounded pride. . .if not a child's broken heart.
As she walked down the pier towards the Jolly Roger, she did not look back. She kept her back straight, and her head high. Peter was just a boy who couldn't grow up. . .not until he learned to accept things as they were. If she were to break through his aloof pretenses
now . . .Hook might really, truly win.
She wanted to die believing that Peter was good enough, and practiced enough, at pretending so that Hook would never be sure if he had won or lost. Peter was doing good so far.
The walk to the ship seemed to be the very longest walk she had ever taken. She could see the pirates, watching leeringly from the deck, laughing and jibing each other. She couldn't see the Captain yet. But she could see Mr. Smee, waiting to help her on board.
When Wendy's feet were finally set on the wooden planking. . .the wall of pirates divided, opening up in front of her a wide path. At one end there was Wendy. . .with Mr. Smee behind her...perhaps to keep her from turning back.
At the other end, standing like a tall silhouette against the late morning sky, was Captain James Hook.
For the first time, Wendy felt a wave of fear. It was as if until she saw him, it had only been pretend. Now it fully dawned upon her, that she was facing her doom.
Death was awaiting her at the end of this last yards of deck.
Death,. . .in a velvet brocade coat the colour of blood.
Every step she took was one last memory. Yet she was drawn on, closer and closer...her feet carrying her, even though her knees trembled. Her back still straight and proud. . .even if her heart beat so loudly it drowned out her footsteps.
And at last she was there. In front of him. . .or rather, behind him, for he was standing with his back to her. She waited a moment, for him to turn. . .but he merely gazed out across the sea. Ignoring her.
Finally she could stand the utter silence no more. She spoke, and her voice sounded sharp, yet strong. Not even a tremble to it.
" Well, Captain Hook. I have returned." she said.
He chuckled, and the sound throbbed through her. . .she knew she ought to be afraid. But the momentary burst of apprehension she had experienced on the other end of the boat, was gone. She chose not to acknowledge the feeling that was replacing it.
" So you have. Pity. Now I have no excuse to kill Pan." he sighed dramatically. " And so you have visited Peter already?"
" Yes."
" And was he devastated to see a grown-up, Wendy?" still the Captain did not turn.
" I don't think so. In fact, I think he might have forgotten me, had he not been sworn to help me return." she said, lacing her voice with a hint of remorse.
" No doubt, he was merely angry at you. Or perhaps bashful. Tell me Wendy, have you grown into the beautiful young woman you gave promise of ?"
She was at a loss for an answer. She was not sure of the appropriate way to respond to such a forward question. Then again, if one was in a place like Neverland, prepared to die for a ten year old promise. . .did one have to observe all the forms of propriety?
" No, I do not think I have become beautiful. Especially not to Peter!" she laughed, finally, remembering Peter's treatment of her.
" Well. We shall see."
And finally, Captain Hook, the man who had haunted her dreams, and had seemed to be searching the nights for her, just as she had sought him in every dream she dreamt. . .turned around to face her.
Pale blue eyes, met dark blue eyes...
And the world fell silent again.