Authors Note: Thank you everyone for the reviews, alerts, and favorites. I am relieved and pleased this new story has been enjoyed so much, as I feel slightly out practice writing Peter and Wendy. Thank you for all the feedback. Onward and upward!
Two: East to West
The loud cry of seagulls circling above the lone cottage shatters the quietness and daily routine of the tiny island. The woman working in the vegetable garden shield's her eyes from the sun as she gazes upward. The girl spinning in her room pauses in her work and her humming ceases. Grumbling to himself, the old man pokes his white head out a window, cups a wrinkled hand to one ear, and listens carefully to the birds' call as they circle a last time before continuing their flight over the sea.
He follows us, he follows us, he follows us, and their message grows fainter.
The old man wrinkles his nose and shuts the window, murmuring under his breath as he crosses the room and hurries down the narrow stairs as swiftly as he can without tripping over his long beard. "Of course, I thought there was a change in the air, knew soon... Yet he could have still been more considerate. Oh, dear, there will hardly be time to ready The Helper, or to warn The Housekeeper—" His bushy eyebrows draw together. "Hey! Prepare early tea! Include sweet rolls and strawberries. No! Blueberries, blueberries!" he bellows to the woman who has just entered the cottage.
She throws up her hands, knowing what is to come, and scurries to obey. And things have been so peaceful...
The old man flits about, tidying and re-tidying things as they catch his eye. In half an hour his Housekeeper and Helper will begin to make his home all nice and clean, as they do everyday. But the seagulls have made clear it is not to be so today. "Oh my. Oh dear, oh dear, dear," he repeats to himself, unsuccessfully attempting to smooth his beard, growing more and more flustered.
He will once again be host to his strange, magical guest. It has been fifty years and past since he last had this pleasure. Only today he looks forward to the visit with anything but pleasure. He desires this visit to be over as soon as possible. It is not that he does not welcome visitors, nor dislikes his guest. (Never mind he is still miffed that over a century ago his then present Helper, a very spirited boy, had been tempted to return with the youth to his world.)
No. Simply put, he has never had a girl serve as his Helper before (and would be hard pressed to explain exactly how it came to pass), and is reluctant to introduce the two, as is custom. This child is so different from ones he's had in the past. Countless times The Housekeeper reports finding the girl up late at night gazing out her window. Often she pauses in whatever task she is doing and turns her face toward the island that is a tiny twinkle across the ocean. Her head's full of dreams. The old man compares her to a caged bird longing to be free to fly.
Yet surely his guest will not extend to her his offer as he has to each child on previous visits. What use would he have of her? There are no girls where he comes from, except for his blasted fairy. ("Please do not let her be coming as well!" he pleads with a wring of his hands.) His band, fighting with the pirates, being the center of that place...surely it must be enough for the lad not to be wanting? The old man shakes himself and straightens to his full height, ashamed of his behavior. "Truly, my nerves are running away from me. It will go well and quickly," he reasons.
However, he cannot help swallowing hard when shortly after, there is a rap on the door; and a moment later, his Housekeeper shows in his guest: Peter Pan.
"Hallo," the curly-haired, skeleton-leaf-clad boy says in greeting, fists resting on his hips, crossing his legs Indian style as he floats into the air.
"Young Pan, welcome." The old man dips his head. "How nice to see you again."
The boy's attention focuses on the long white beard brushing the floor; a cocky smile spreads over his lips and he laughs, "How long it is!" The old man's smile tightens. His guest is still as young, cocky, and carefree as he remembers. He waits until The Housekeeper has brought in all the refreshments before asking if he will not sit down and have some tea.
"But there are three chairs," Peter comments while settling in one. "And three cups," he adds, ignoring the little plates on the tray and taking a handful of blueberries. He gazes quizzically at his uncomfortable host.
"Aye," comes the slow answer.
"Why?"
"Oh, well—" he fishes for words.
"Is there to be another joining us?"
"My little Helper," the old man admits, his nerves returning. There can be no further delay as Peter, in a tone used when acting as Captain, asks about the child. Nothing is to be done except to return the teapot to the tray, rise from his seat, and call her. "Helper? Helper! Come join us," he orders.
He feels a bit of ease when, after several silent, waiting moments, the girl enters the room quietly, shyly, and looks at their visitor almost fearfully; this is the first time she has ever seen a boy. Young Pan, in turn, regards her with surprise and perhaps a bit of distaste, taking in her simple frock and brown hair hanging freely about her shoulders. The old man nearly sighs in relief at the new tension in the room. Perhaps he has worried for nothing.
"Allow me to introduce my Helper. This is our guest," he makes the traditional introductions.
Peter bows stiffly, his uncertainty obvious. She curtsies as best she can and moves to the chair farthest from him. Her hands shake as she accepts the cup the man gives her and keeps her gaze directed to the floor. Suddenly feeling quite cheerful, the old man carries the conversation, for his Helper speaks not a word and Peter Pan is almost as quiet, darting occasional suspicious glances towards her. He talks about his island, the weather, the ocean, the seagulls, all which are greeted with nods and short replies.
"It was not too tiring a journey for you, I trust," he inquires, sipping his tea.
"No," his guest says warmly, with some of his old conceit.
"Where do you live?" the question is asked softly.
Both the old man and Peter turn to the girl, surprised.
"Neverland, of course," the boy replies after a moment.
The girl's eyes widen, and a light the man has not ever noticed fills her face. "You are Peter Pan?" There is a note of dawning awe in her voice.
The boy straightens in his chair. "Aye," he confirms proudly.
She confesses, "I-I have wondered what it is like, Neverland. Second to the right...," she trails off.
"And straight on till morning." Peter looks at her fully, leans forward in his chair (she mirrors him), and they are off, talking of anything and everything pertaining to Neverland. Their voices fly and ring about the room, she asking questions, he answering in great detail. His hands animate and her eyes take in, understand, everything.
And the old man can only sit back and observe, stunned and displeased by this change between the two; in all his many years he has not seen Pan like this with any of his previous children - Joy, as he's sometimes called. And Helper has never appeared so dreamy and attentive. The man's mind spins, wondering just how she knew of Neverland and Pan. It was a secret always carefully guarded from the children in his service. How then...?
"...One for every boy and girl. Mine is a great lady, Tink. And—" Peter breaks off, and studies the girl curiously. "What is your name?" he questions.
She answers, blushing lightly, "Wendy."
"Wendy," he tries it out, tilting his head to one side.
His eyes are a tad too intrigued, stars daring to come out and twinkle, and hers too admiring for the old man's comfort. The boy is providing for her a glimpse of the wonders beyond this place, and she, whom it is hard to keep bound here, may unconsciously try to spread her wings. It is time for him to step in. Bring this all to an end.
"Oh!" he exclaims, noisily putting his cup on the tray. "It is getting late!" He is not noticed, or else ignored.
"Wendy, would you like to visit Neverland someday?" the half-expected offer comes. The youth appears almost hopeful. His whole being seems to glow as he describes what he will show her, all the fun she shall have. "Say you will!" he presses.
And her face is so bright as she listens, an ecstatic "Oooo!" escaping her.
"I'm afraid I cannot allow that," the old man interrupts again, calmly.
Oh! The "put out" scowl he receives from young Pan. Wendy's excitement slowly changes to confusion as her gaze turns to him. The man fights not to smile.
"Why not?" the boy demands crossly, gnashing his first teeth.
"It will not do." The man goes on, "The journey would be too long and tiring for her. She is small, not as strong as your boys. Youve never had a girl in your band. Really, I would not be able to spare her."
His guest's expression grows as dark as a storm cloud. Before he can protest, however, the girl speaks.
"No, you do need me to help," she submits, though disappointed. "Thank you kindly, though," she says to Peter. Good girl. She knows how to obey.
Running his hand through his beard, the old man observes young Pan with grim satisfaction. He blinks at Wendy, obviously not understanding how she can refuse his offer. Silently he leans back in his chair and finishes his tea; his body is turned away from the others. His displeasure is clear.
"I should be going," he at last informs his host coolly. He rises and bows.
"Thank you for visiting," the old man rises with him. "It is always a pleasure." And he puts a hand on the lad's shoulder to see him out.
His Helper stands up as well. She asks, sadly, "Must you really be going?"
Gazes of blue and hazel meet, linger. Something in the air shifts.
"I must," he answers, his mood not as cool towards her. Wordlessly she nods and lowers her head. "But," and here he moves to take her hand in his, "I will visit again, Wendy."
He is rewarded with a shy smile from her.
The old man masks a laugh with a cough. Pan has never met any of his children twice.
And then he is gone, sweeping out of the cottage with a crow and his first teeth flashing, leaving behind his hosts over-generous well wishes and Wendy's sincere farewells. Housekeeper is called and removes the tea things. Helper is dismissed and returns to her work, lightness in her step.
The old man watches at a window a long time after Peter Pan has flown out of sight. Slowly he nods to himself. His first order of business will be to bar the girls window. Somehow he senses that the memory of this visit will not fade for her but linger, even beckon to her. And young Pan returning! The man chuckles to himself. Well, he is strange and magical and forgetful. Yet there had been something in his tone, a voice whispers in his ear. The old man's eyes flash sharply. I would like to see him try, he thinks to himself. The insolent youth will not steal this child from under his nose. He shall not be so careless again.
"I would like to see him try," he states aloud and firmly closes the window.