Disclaimer:
I Aslansphoenix declare that I do not own 'Peter Pan', Neverland or anything that you find familiar. Technically some of the characters did come from my head ... but I think they belong to Neverland just as much as any canon characters.
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Author's Note:
The story starts to pick up.
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"All Children Grow up Except One"
Everyone Knows about Neverland,
About the home of Peter Pan.
Second to the Right, and Straight on till Morning.
To the place between dreaming and awakening.
There are rules in Neverland
Rules that must be obeyed.
Boys forget much easier than Girls.
"No Girl can resist Peter Pan,
When he uses a specific voice."
One more thing, which is True ...
In Neverland, You learn all about You.
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Chapter Six.
Angela pouted then changed the subject to a random things about teddy bears and flowers. George sat quietly; that odd feeling of discomfort had formed again.
Yes it was certainly a conversation that George would never forget.
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George thought everything would remain the same.
Eliza mostly being off with her 'gossiping-gal-pals', Mitchell avoiding everyone and sulking or insulting them all, Angela creating exciting games to play, and Margaret just calmly helping Granny Wendy take care of them all.
George was mostly having fun; lots of adventures to have, and being amused by Angela's ideas. George found quite a bit of amusement in asking Angela about different scenarios with how children were made.
Apparently – as long as the ceremonial actions occurred; it could happen to anyone, as long as they were in love and only when they were ready. Sometimes a couple could trick themselves into thinking they were in love. Occasionally the love for the-yet-to-exist child was enough, rarely but it was possible. People could fall out of love with the first person and find love with another (though Angela was adamant that that hadn't happened with her grandparents).
Also those that couldn't have children, were "not broken, they just have so much love in their hearts that they are able to adopt and love children not born as theirs by blood, but theirs by choice and by love."
Given that Granny Wendy was such a strong advocate for finding orphaned or abused children, kind, true and loving homes; George felt that Angela's response was quite appropriate. And George would never admit it, but also very sweet.
George thought everything would remain the same.
But what is the point of a story about a next generation of Darling children, if they do not go to Neverland?
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It was a warm day. A kind of day that should have felt relaxing, but it had a tinge of buzzing in the air. It was a day, George decided, that was a good one for an adventure. And that was the problem; everyone apparently wanted to start a different adventure. George wanted to go on a trip to the beach, Mitchell wanted to go to some sport event and Eliza wanted to go in to go around the shops.
(Margaret rolled her eyes at the argument then, something caught her eye. In a soft, dream-like state she moved across the room).
What started as a minor agreement, soon turned into Mitchell and George shoving each other; both allowing volatile emotions to rear up. This lead to shoving and then eventually to a small vase being broken.
The children pulled back at the shattering sound and stared guiltily up towards the window; where Margaret and Granny Wendy stood. Mitchell started complaining that it was George's fault, Eliza was alternating between blaming both of them, and trying to wheedle into getting her way.
George, however, was more curious. Margaret and Wendy were the two people, that were usually able to diffuse a fight before it began; so why didn't they? What was outside that held their intention so keenly? George watched as, at the shattering sound, Granny Wendy absentmindedly turned to face the children. A strange, excited light dancing across her face …
Her eyes flickered to the broken vase, and after a moment, she seemed to be pulled back into the present - slightly.
"Oh, children, are you both alright?"
George nodded, "Neither of us were hurt. Umm, I'm sorry about the vase."
"It's just a vase. I'm just glad you children are okay."
George's head titled at Granny Wendy, she still seemed … distracted wasn't the right word, but her mind was clearly on something. Before George could ask, Angela bounded into the room. She as babbling excitement about something, but then she paused and stared at Margaret who was still staring out of the window. Angela paused thinking, then her face lit up and she let out a sigh "Is he coming tonight?"
Wendy (and for a moment George swore; there was no 'Granny' to the Lady), turned and smiled softly at her youngest granddaughter. Apparently that was enough of an answer for Angel, because she started bouncing around the room.
"Yes! Oh this is going to be so exciting! I can't wait to see to everyone again, I wonder what adventures we'll have and how everyone is and … Oh you guys can come! This is going to be so much fun!"
For once; George, Mitchell and Eliza were in complete agreement – they had absolutely no idea as to what was going on. Margaret finally turned from the window; unlike her bouncing sister and her mysteriously smiling grandmother, Margaret was a strange mixture between being hopeful and subdued. "Angie, we don't know that."
"But, you can taste it on the air, he is coming. Right Granny?"
Before Granny Wendy could respond, Eliza spoke up "What are you all talking about? Who is meant to be coming?"
"Peter Pan!"
… George, Eliza and Mitchell stared at Angela for her outburst. They some more. Then glanced at the others; neither Granny Wendy nor Margaret said anything. There was another moment of silence then Mitchell scoffed.
"Oh not this rot again. Peter Pan isn't real!"
Angela's eyes went wide and she gave a stubborn pout. "Yes he is." Eliza sighed "The idea of a flying, immortal boy is rather … implausible." Margaret surprised George by joining in the debate "Implausible doesn't mean Impossible."
Mitchell made a show of obviously rolling his eyes. "You girls are such idiots."
Perhaps it was the 'i' word, or maybe it was George's protective instincts rising over the upset look in Angela's eyes, or it could have been just the natural knee-jerk reaction to disagree with Mitchell … whatever the reason George joined in the argument. "You're the idiot Mitch! Always thinking that you are the only one allowed to be right. Well you know what – I bet that you are wrong! If they say Peter Pan is coming tonight, then I believe them."
There was noise as everyone started to yell. This time though, Granny Wendy stepped in before it could escalate into physical violence; she used her 'Mum' voice which automatically made the children fall quiet.
"That is enough. All of you. Thank-you. Now I believe you children wanted to go out. We will go down to Kensington Park, and if you are good then we may get ice-creams. But only if there is no more fighting. Now go get ready."
They obeyed, and for a while they avoided the subject. But then the children spread out on the walk, and George ended up walking near Mitchell. Mitchell waited until Granny Wendy was far enough ahead then spoke in a sneer. "So, you really bet that this Pan kid is going to show up, Georgina."
"Yeah Mitch, I really do."
"How much?"
George slowed down and shot a suspicious glare at him "You want to this into a real bet? Of course you, it's all about money with you."
"Or right now, you could just admit to being wrong. And stupid."
"You're the stupid one."
"You're both stupid." Eliza stepped between the two, "But for once Mitchell has the right idea; We'll only get in too much trouble if we continue arguing, so let's make this situation more interesting and less … argumentative."
George grunted in acknowledgment of the logic … and an idea began to nibble at the edge of George's mind. "I'm listening."
Mitchell gave what he hoped was a superior sneer. "When Peter Pan doesn't show up – you cough up Ten Pounds." George gasped slightly; that was a lot, and even Eliza looked impressed, Mitchell shot his sister a fake smile, "I was going to say Five, but I know you'll want half. So Ten Pounds."
"Oh, you are thinking, aren't you Mitchell. Fine – Georgina; if Peter Pan doesn't show up tonight then you pay us Ten Pounds, if he does then we'll pay you the amount. Do we have a deal?"
George glanced at them then over at the others; Angela dancing along the path's edge while Margaret and Granny Wendy wandered quietly together. George looked at them and thought about how certain that they were of Peter Pan's Existence. Mind made up, George turned back to the twins.
"Keep your money. If Peter doesn't show, I'll get you your money; you'll have to wait till my parents get back, but I'll pay up. But … He does show, then you two have to apologise. First day of school; a public apology to everyone for always getting us into trouble. That is what I want."
They glared at George, then exchanged a glance, weighing the options – the possibility of humiliating themselves by admitting to the wrong-doings, or getting money. They seemed to come to an agreement and in sync they both nodded "Agreed."
"What's been agreed?"
The three gamblers jumped in fright at Angela's sudden appearance. Margaret and Granny Wendy had stopped and was looking at them with amusement. After regaining breath control, George realised that Angela was still waiting for an answer.
"Mitch is going to stay in the nursery tonight, we'll prove that Peter exists."
Angela let out an excited yell and dragged them down the path babbling. As they went George noted that Margaret looked uncertain. The rest of the trip went smoothly and when they returned the younger children became a flurried movement. Pretending that they weren't getting ready for something (a showdown).
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It was when walking past Granny Wendy's room when George accidentally heard what was going on through Margaret's mind.
"Maggie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Granny I'm fine."
"Margaret …"
That was when George stopped walking and started to listen in.
"I just … What if he doesn't show up? I'm getting older and … I feel okay with the idea of starting to grow up, but I wanted one last adventure, a chance to … bring this chapter of my story to a close."
"Oh Maggie, I know. I know that there is no guarantee of when or if, Peter will appear, but I think he will. The story demands it."
George blinked in confusion and Margaret's silence seemed to convey her own. Granny Wendy smiled in the silence and carried on speaking. "I mean; what are the chances of your three cousins needing to stay here at this time of year? That amongst other things suggests an adventure just waiting to happen. Peter could never resist that kind of story. He'll show."
"And what if he does? Are we all just going to go have a grand adventure – And what will happen? How will we get along and –"
"Margaret. What will happen, will happen. Don't stress yourself out about what you cannot control. Go on the adventure, tell the story and enjoy yourself. And when it's time; come home."
"You make it sound so simple."
That was when George snuck away. Margaret sounded calmer and George thought it best to leave when the opportunity was there. And certainly when Margaret joined the rest of the children, she appeared more … lightened about the adventure that was potentially to arrive.
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It was interesting getting ready for bed. Eliza and Mitchell both wore their night clothes, the others – did not. Angela wore a simple dress; something she was obviously comfortable in, but still managed to twirl and dance around in. George also noticed she packed a small bag with her colouring pencils and some parchment. Margaret was also wearing a simple dress, but she added a warm coat with a belt and packed a satchel. George didn't see everything, but knew there was at least a book and some sewing equipment. Then there was George.
George had chosen to wear the outfit (shirt, breeches and a slightly too large vest) George usually used for playing pirates. George had a scarf tied around the waist; with, naturally, a fake sword. At the foot of the bed, George set out a pair of boots; ready to be slipped into. George felt ready for an adventure.
The air was buzzing with tension.
Granny Wendy came in, she lit the night-lights and managed to calm them down by telling a wonderful story. Four of the five settled in their beds; two quite smugly, Angela very reluctantly and George trying to hide a mass of nerves. Margaret sat on the window seat reading a book by lamplight, and they all said goodnight. After a few minutes of faux silence, Mitchell started to speak.
It was an insult, and that lead to a whispered debate. Margaret allowed this for a few more minutes then she began to hum. George felt this was very unfair – Margaret did not sing too often, but she had a beautiful voice. And her gentle humming was creating a drowsy atmosphere.
George blinked … once, twice, and then George's eyelids started to feel heavy. There was the comforting noise of London outside, and the wind weaving through a tree … and Margaret's voice was so soothing … and … maybe it would be okay … just for a few moments …
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It was the silence that woke up George.
George's bed position gave a good view of the clock; apparently it was 2.30 am … which explained why there didn't even seem to be a rustle of noise. George blinked blearily and glanced around the room. Things seemed normal. The others were sleeping (Mitchell on his stomach, Eliza tucked in tight, and Angela curled into a small ball under her blankets.) Margaret seemed to have fallen asleep at the window.
Things seemed normal.
George rolled over and snuggled further into the blankets, and smiled at the soft murmur that could be heard. Something niggled at George's mind, but the sleepy child brushed off the thought and focused on the patterns on the wall.
How strange; that shadow could almost be the arm of someone … oh it was attached to a body, how reassuring … hmmm a boy seemed to be speaking … something about wanting her to go with him, he sounded so hopeful … only she couldn't, not this time … she sounded so sad at that …
Idly George wondered why the Lady couldn't go, another part of George's mind thought the shadow was odd – it wasn't in the right place. There was a tinkling of bells … that was so pretty …
Bells?
George's closed eyes went wide. There on the opposite wall was definitely a shadow that (due to lightning) should not have been there. Beautiful bells could also be heard, and there was certainly the sound of people talking softly. George tried to turn, only for to be discovered that somehow George had gotten tangled up the sheets. There was a thud as George fell off the bed.
There in the shadow of the doorway was Granny Wendy, and a small figure. At the thud the boy leaped into George's face.
"Who goes – be you Friend or Foe?!"
George took in the appearance; messy hair, bright twinkling eyes that were both as old as history and as youthful as could be, a mouth full of baby teeth, he was dressed in skeleton leaves and, George noted, his feet were not touching the floor. George took this all in and came to the realisation. After which; there was only one thing that George found could be said.
"Bloody Hell, you're real!"
Peter Pan (for who else could it have been), threw back his head and crowed.
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End of Chapter Six.
Author's Note:
Here this chapter ends.
Hopefully this story is not too horrible.
If you have read this, then thank-you.
I will update whenever I update.
Thursday 26th April 2018.