Date: Sat, 3 Jan 2004 13:48:46 EST
From: J
Subject: PETER PAN 14

CHAPTER 14: DEAR PETER PAN

"He's fine!" Peter screamed at me. He had flown back from delivering
Oliver to Heaven and he came back all tingly and twinkling and laughing
with the fairy. He was far too happy for me, who lay waiting in bed with
the other Lost Boys, all asleep. "I said he's fine! Now just leave it at
that."

I gently put Jennie down in Landen's lap and stood up, "We've lost one of
our boys..."

"One of MY BOYS!" Peter said. "My boys."

"That's not fair!"

Peter calmed, "No, no. You are right. He was ours. I'm...I;'m sorry..."

Great Peter Pan! He's apologizing. "Look Peter," I sighed, "I know you
don't have any bad thoughts..."

"No, I don't. And it's not like he was the first Lost Boy to die.
There've have been others. I even had to kill one or two myself..."

I went wide eyed, "Peter!"

"Well I had to." He sighed. "Neverland is not a pretty place all the
time. The Indians were once our enemies and they took many a lost boy
scalp. Almost got mine too." He put down his bag of white. "There's
angel wings in there for us if we need them."

I ignored that but then snuck a peak into the bag, "Angel wings? Peter,
we have to deal with this..."

"There is nothing to deal with," Peter turned to me, "Oliver saved my
life. I would be on the way to the Heaven now if it weren't for him. Away
from you and from them. He's fine where he is. It was meant to be."

"Is that all you can say?"

"Forget it. Forget him. We will see him again some day...or..."

"How? You can't die of..."

"Ahh but I can die," Peter put his face into mine and rather than look
angry he looked excited with joy, "....that's what makes it so exciting
and adventurous....now if this Lucius doesn't leave Neverland I fear we
shall plot his end...and I shall run him through..."

"Peter, it's not a game."

Peter took a sword from the floor and pointed it at my neck, "Ahh but it
is! So don't say that. It's all a game. That's all there is really." 

I sighed and nodded, "I'm going back to bed!"

I did. Peter flew over to the bed and took his spot too, but this time he
got under me before I could lay down. "Peter stop, I'm not in the
mood..."

"For what?"

"For your games...Oliver's dead."

"But he's not. He's just in another form and in another place. He's okay,
really." Peter looked up at me and he looked for forlorn that I just
couldn't resist.

I laid down, my belly to his belly and rubbed. I snuggled. The other boys
were awake laughed and turned all as one. I rubbed my nose into Peter's
nose and he stuck his tongue out at me in defiance. I stuck mine out onto
his. His eyes were melting mine. Those blue eyes. Sometimes turned green.
That blond hair. I would not forget Oliver. I knew Peter would not
either. It seemed I would need a way to adjust to death, the death Peter
knew was not the way I had always thought death was. Death was not an
end. 

The next afternoon I had a plan. It was not a nice one. I flew with Peter
to the Solomon stork that brought the mail to Neverland. I had written my
family and told them I was okay. They were not to be worried so I did
that. Of course they could never come here or bring here to them. Anyway,
I flew with Peter to the tops of the trees and took out the mail from the
stork's very clean mouth. I opened some blank letters I put there. Peter
laid down playing his pipes in the trees, his bare back against the tree
branch he was lying on. He blinked. He saw me opening letters and
laughing. He stopped piping, "Read to me?"

Peter didn't know how to read. "Peter, it is really high time I made
time to teach you how to read."

"Oh, that. I ....why I know how to read. It's just that I have..."

"So many adventures you don't have time to read." I knew the drill.
"Okay..." I opened a blank letter. "Dear Peter Pan..."

"It's a letter?!!!" Pan got all wide eyed and cutelike. He was like a
little boy who ...well he was a little boy. He was all coy and excited
about getting a letter to him. This melted my heart and almost made me
stop my plan. Almost. "For...for me?" In a flash he was upon me and
grabbing at the letter but I held it back from him. "LEMMESEE!"

I held it back, "Peter, it's my pleasure to read it to you. Don't..."

"Don't what?"

"Don't rob me of my joy, please, Peter," I looked up in my best innocent
glare, my eyebrows up.

Peter floated backwards, his muscled arms up behind his head of blond
hair and he rested back upon the branch. "Okay, I won't. Read."

I steadied the blank letter. "Dear Peter Pan...I know you hide your
feelings from me sometimes."

"Huh?"

"...I can sense you in my dreams and I can read your dreams..."

Peter looked doubtful but then uneasy at this.

"I hear you talk of your mother. And I know that it's...sad that you feel
she locked you out. Barred the window..." I peered up at Peter who
looked very angry. His eyebrows pressed forth into a vee. I cleared my
throat, "But I want you to know it wasn't that she replaced you. It
wasn't that she didn't want you. She did. To ease the burden of your
loss...for she was sure after a time that you were not coming back...and
she wanted you too. She knew you wanted to but she also knew you loved
adventures too and that...that you tried she did not know. For when you
tried, the window was nailed shut..."

"I KNOW ALL THIS!" Peter literally spat, "READ ANOTHER ONE!"

"But..."

"ANOTHER ONE!" Peter sat up and moved at me.

"NO!"

"I said! READ ANOTHER ONE!" He took his knife out and put it at my
belly.

"AND I SAID NO! WELL GO AHEAD AND USE IT! THIS IS IMPORTANT!" 

"Does thou offend me! To hurt me!"

"Peter this needs to be read!"

"It's from one of my enemies!" Peter removed the cold knife from my
belly.

I looked at the letter front and back, "I...No, I don't think so. I don't
believe it is, sir."

"Well read it if you must but I'm off on another..."

"Oh no, you don't!" I grabbed his ankle, fully expecting him to drag me
with him but he made himself stop, "You won't run from this. You must
face this!"

"Very well, Peter Pan never runs from anything!" He sat back down but he
could not relax, "Finish it then!" 

"Now where was I? Ahh yes," I faked, "Here. Your mother loved you, Peter.
Loved you..."

Peter's eyes were welling up.

"The reason the window was barred was that...she had another baby and not
to replace you. To ease her loss of you. For it was unbearable for her
not to have you around." I looked up, "I know how she must have felt."
Then I looked down, "She had another that she loved but not as much as
you. That man is grown now and I have seen him in my dreams too. He is
your brother. The window was shut and iron barred because she did not
want him to fly the coop like you did. She did it to keep him in, not to
keep you out. She wasn't aware that that the fairy rules was that if the
window was shut, you could not be let back in any other way. She never
forgot you, Peter. I know that..."

Peter's tears fell freely now.

"I know that," I repeated, "You only forget others to ease the pain of
that memory. That you love fun and games and you also feel love for...for
people."

"I do but when the Lost Boys start growing up, I either thin them out by
bringing them back home or I slay them myself!" Peter elbowed his tears
away.

"Oh Peter!" I cried, tears in my eyes too.

"Tis true!"

"Is not!"

"It is!"

"Oliver!"

"Okay, okay, I only did it once! I had to. There was this lost boy who
was mad, would have killed us all."

"Peter!" I flew over his body and kissed him on the mouth, "Oh Peter!"
He hugged me and cried on my shoulder.

Then he looked, "Is that the end?"

"Yes I think so," I said, "But I believe it."

"Read another."

I sat next to him now and opened another fake letter. "Dear Peter Pan. I
want you to know that I know you. I know you will not be alone. There is
one that loves you more than Wendy, more than your mother, more than the
Lost Boys, more than even Hook loved you. He will not let you be
alone...he knows that you proposed marriage once to a girl before
Wendy...that naked you bared your soul to her...that you asked for her
hand in marriage and that you would not deceive her. You let her know
that if she stayed with you as a wife, her mother might have barred her
out. Tis was true, not all were like Wendy's mother to keep the window
open forever...Maime left you. She sent you letters and a goat and all
sorts of toys and presents and letters on how real boys play..."

Once more, Peter's eyes flowed. "I am a real boy."

I cleared my throat, "And this person knows you are a real boy. But you
are so much more. He loves you more than Tinkerbell. And he will not let
you be alone. He will not put you under his wants. But what if...if you
tried to have a new adventure...to live a life as a man? Think about it.
You don't have to do it but think about it. Whatever the case may be, I
know this person will love you and stick by you no matter what."

Peter cried more tears.

"Dear Peter Pan. I am so sorry to have made you cry." I started to cry
too. "The letters I just read were fakes. But all were real. I am psychic
and I know the feelings of your mother and brother and the dreams you
have. I have heard you talk in your nightmares, in your dreams and hopes.
I know you loved Maime, Wendy, Jane, and all the rest. I know you forget
sometimes, but you do so to protect yourself. And Peter, Dear Peter, I
love you so much it hurts and would never leave you alone here in this
never changing Neverland..."

Peter turned to me, floating over me. He looked rather angry but also
happy, "You lied to me?"

"Yes."

"The letters...were not from real people?"

"No."

"No?"

"I mean yes."

"I want you to teach me to read."

"I will."

"I do not want to speak to you for...ever..."

"Peter!"

"Well at least for one whole day." And with that, tears still flowing,
he took off.

"PETER! Come back!!!!"

I knew it was useless.. Still, I got him to confront some of his
feelings. That were locked up for centuries, for his mother and his
brother and Maime and Wendy and John and Michael were all long gone. In
fact, at this very moment, they were frolicking in the stars and heavens
with our dear sweet Oliver. Mrs. Darling was there too and she sent one
of her kisses down for me and it hit my cheek and another hit the cheek
of Peter and he laughed. He laughed and he thought of me...my face...and
I thought of him. I had to find him. But I should wait a day. To confront
Peter when he was not speaking to you was a dangerous thing. Did I learn?


The play Peter Pan and its characters are trademarks of and copyright
J.M. Barrie