Odd things happen to all of us on our way
through life without our noticing for a time that they have happened.
Their eyes averted from the thing that was
coming. They had not thought of
fighting it. It was Fate.
For long, there was no answer.
“Who are you?”
No answer.
“I wont open unless you speak,” he cried.
Then at last she spoke in a lovely bell
like voice.
“Let me in, Peter!”
Was it not strange? She appealed to him, quite the silliest one.
Instinct told her to which of them to turn.
When they first laughed for the first time, the laughter broke into a
million pieces and all went skipping about.
“Say ‘Ay, ay, Sir.’”
“Ay, ay, Sir!”
It need not be said who was the captain.
He had dreams.
They were more than the dreams of other boys. For hours, he could not be separated from these dreams.
If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see a shapeless pool
of lovely pale colors, suspended in the darkness.
It was all especially entrancing to Wendy.
It had to do with the riddle of his existence.
It was the fairy language. Ordinary
children can never hear it, but if you were to hear it, you would know you had
heard it once before.
She had a dream.
She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and that a strange boy
had broken through from it. While
she was dreaming, the window blew open and a boy did drop to the floor.
He was accompanied by a strange light.
Wendy was quite surprised, but interested; and she indicated in charming,
drawing-room manner, by a touch on her nightgown, that he could sit nearer her.
She thought she had seen him before.
There was a look in his eyes which ought to have alarmed her, but did
not. It had been Wendy’s custom
to sit with him, soothing him in dear ways of her own invention. She knew it was make-believe, while to him make-believe and
true were exactly the same thing.
“Where are
you?"
She was in a jug for the moment, and
liking it extremely. She had never
been in a jug before.
“Come with me
and tell the others.”
She was very pleased to be asked, but she
said, “Oh dear, I can’t!” She
noticed, with gentle concern that he did not seem to know that this was rather
an odd way of earning your bread and butter, nor even that there ARE other ways.
He was so much the humblest of them, indeed he was the only humble one,
that she was specially gentle with him. Grandly
however did he respond, for that one moment, he dropped his stillness and spoke
with dignity.
“Nobody minds me,” he said, “ but
the first who does not behave to Wendy like a gentleman, I will bloody him
severely!”
Many clapped.
Some did not. A few little
beasts hissed. He was ready.
He wanted to see how long it took him to do a billion miles.
Wendy hesitated. The little
house looked so cozy and safe in the darkness with a bright light showing
through its blinds, and the chimney smoking beautifully.
“Of course, it’s frightfully fascinating, but you see, I have no real
experience.”
“That doesn’t matter,” said Peter, as if he were the only person
present who knew all about it. You
simply must fit, and Peter measures you as carefully as for a suit of clothes;
the only difference being that the clothes are made to fit you, while you have
to be made to fit. Once you fit,
great care must be taken to go on fitting.
Once she even had to tell him her name.
“I’m Wendy,” she said agitatedly.
He was very sorry.
“I say, Wendy,” he whispered to her, “Always, if you see me
forgetting you, just keep on saying, ‘I’m Wendy’, and then I’ll
remember.”
Of course, this was rather unsatisfactory.
As when they had to make-believe, they had had their dinners.
He would come down laughing over something fearfully funny he had been
saying to a star, but he had already forgotten what it was, or he would come up
with mermaid scales still sticking to him, and then not be able to say for
certain what had been happening. It
was really rather irritating.
HIM: “Fame, Fame, that
glittering bauble, it is mine,” he cried.
“It is quite good form to be distinguished.”
HER: She was grown up. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up.
She grew up a day quicker than other girls.
You need not be sorry for her. She
was not a little girl heartbroken about him, she was a grown woman ~ smiling at
it all.
Novelty was
beckoning to them again as usual. Thus
did they learn the difference between an island of make believe and the same
island come true. The island was
looking out for them, only thus may anyone sight those magic shores. If he thought at all, but I don’t believe he ever thought,
it was that he and his shadow, when brought near each other, would join like
drops of water, and when they did not, he was appalled.
As they lay side by side, a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and began
pulling her softly into the water. Peter,
feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her
back. Perhaps it was because of the
soft beauty of the evening but there came over him a desire to confide.
She wanted to risk it, come what might, but that was not his way.
“She wants me
to unbar the window,” thought Peter, “but I wont, not I.”
He peeped in again, and the tears were
still there, or another two had taken their place.
He frowned.
“I am back,”
he says hotly. “Why do you not
cheer?”
“You wont
forget me, will you, before springtime comes?” She asks.
“Of course,” Peter promised; and then he flew away.
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