Peter Pan and Me

CHAPTER 15: FORCE ME DOWN TO MY KNEES

If Peter didn't want to be found he couldn't be, wouldn't be. Once upon
a time a gnome who allied himself with Hook to get Peter, Wendy and her
brothers, and the then Lost Boys out of what he claimed was his home--the
underground house--where he came to life every 1000 years or so to check
up on for spring cleaning---put a spell out. The spell was put on who he
thought was Hook--but it was just Gentlemen French Ignatius Starkey, the
most cowardly of the pirates. Starkey was fooling around in Hook's cabin
and wearing Hook's clothes so the gnome thought it was Hook. In any
event, whenever Starkey said Peter Pan three times he would end up with
Peter where Peter was. Hook used this to try to get Peter but of course
it failed. I could have used a spell like that right now.

I went to the trees first. They weren't talking. They knew Peter's intent
to stay away from me for a whole day. I mean I could do it. I stayed away
from him sometimes or rather he was gone for weeks or even once or twice
a whole month so I could deal. But not when things were like this between
us. The trees saw that I was tired and one of them, very nicely, asked me
if I wanted to sleep in his branches. I told him I had to find Peter. I
asked the birds, the finches, the swans, the impudent things. I bowed to
the red roses and yellow banana trees. They bowed back. But no one knew
where Peter was and those that did weren't talking. The grass was greener
because they were giving hints and I knew Peter was at least still in
Neverland and not in outer space, history, or some other dimension like
Fantasia or Startrek Universe or some other weird place. The clouds also
brought some notice for they always bunched up where ever Peter was so I
followed some of them.

I found him in a beautiful grove practicing his swordplay and dagger
skills. Bad move for me to interrupt but I just couldn't wait. What I
didn't realize was that it was 23 hours exactly since he said he wouldn't
talk to me or be my friend for 24 hours. I had one hour to wait. I
couldn't. I had to settle this right now. "Peter!" I yelled but didn't
mean to. Peter thrust a long thin sword into a tree bark, one that wasn't
alive already thank goodness. He spun and backhanded his sword, bending
his arms and his wrists to practice a block. He stared at me but ignored
me completely. He was looking right through me. That was bad enough. I
felt a lump in my throat and tried to swallow. I was chilled to the bone.
It was night now and the stars were out and piercing through the clouds
that moved aside for them. For Peter loves the stars more so than the
clouds but he loves them both. I thought the stars were laughing at me
but it turns out, Peter later told me in my ear that they were just
trying to cheer him up so that he wouldn't kill me. Peter twirled and hit
a bush and then a rock with his sword and dagger at the same time,
bending, yelling and practicing, anger seething through him. Anger at me.
"Peter," I repeated. He stopped and looked at me. I turned my back, "I'm
so sorry!"

"YOU!" He raised his sword behind my back.

I didn't realize the danger I was in but of course this is paradoxical
because I knew, if had seen Peter raise his sword and knife at my back, I
knew that he would not strike. Once a long time ago, Peter raised his
knife over Wendy's baby Jane. It was when he first realized Wendy was as
old as 20 and had a baby and a husband. Once more he had been replaced
and of course he didn't kill Jane. On the contrary he took her to
Neverland more than once. And later Jane's daughter Margaret and
Margaret's daughter and on and on. He wouldn't hurt me physically. As he
prepared his sword to cut off my head, I talked to him, "I was wrong. I'm
sorry. Please forgive me." I swallowed wondering what he was going to
do. "I should not have done what I did."

"WHAT!...WHAT DID YOU DO?" Peter put his sword down but then raised it
again to stab me in the back. In his other hand, he lifted the dagger at
my lower spine.

"I lied to you. To get you to..." I cried, "Open up...I want..." I
collapsed. I have not slept you see for over 24 hours...and I fell, head
toward a sharp rock. My head would be dashed to a million fragments.
Well, maybe not that many. It was like slow motion as I fell. Exhausted
and tired, I tumbled.

Shooting star. That was Peter, not even stopping to drop his weapons. As
I fell, what happened in a flash was this: for once I melted him. My
vulnerability melted him and my heart melted him. Usually he melted my
heart, this time it was me melting his heart. He dashed at me, dropped
his weapons as his arms caught me and gentle as a feather laid me on the
soft moss to the right of the rock that almost killed me. "So tired," did
he say it or did I? Or both. I was so tired.

"I would never hurt you."

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Deep deep sleep. Feeling warm all over.
Flying as though under someone else's strength. Warm wind. Great feeling
in chest. Like I just got over a cold. And feeling warm under a blanket.
Safe warm darkness. Soothing. Eyes hurt a bit but goes away. Floating.
Floating, floating. Easing into it. Settling into a fluffy feathery bed.
Quiet unending.

"Doctor, will he be alright?"
"Yes, I think so, dear sir. Tell him to take his medicine regularly."
"Medicine? Doesn't that cause a lot of problems?"
"Well it could if you insist on taking it when there is poison in it."
Slap.
"OW!"
"I had to take it then."
"Oh."
"Oh, okay, so if he takes this and, well, you think we'll have to open
him up?"
"No, just his bedroll."

The voices I heard belonged of course to Peter Pan and the bright faced
Landen, who's name might have been Brandis in his life before he came to
Never Never Never Land.

"Ahh, you brought a stethoscope. Let me, cause he's very, well, bashful."
"Okay, Peter."
"OW!"
"Me name's sir, Doctor."
"Oh I forget it's just pretend."

To Peter there was no difference so he slapped Landen again.

"OW!"

I felt a cold stethoscope on my chest. I winced and drew back.

"Say ahh."

"Ahh," I said. I felt a wood stick in my mouth. I think it was pretend.
"Ahh, Doc, take a look in."

Peter shoved Landen's head at my mouth and Landen must have winced
because my breath must have smelled bad. "So what is your prescription,
doctor?"

"He needs to eat."

"Real food please, boys."

"Yes poppa," I heard Aoi say. Soon someone was shoving food in my mouth
and by the taste of the hand, sweet, I'd say it was Peter, and again I
was not sure if it were make believe food or real food but it tasted real
and filled my belly. Which Peter pressed.

"Doctor, is his belly fine?"

"Let me see." Landen, who it just occurred to me looked a lot like
Jonathan Brandis from the NEVERENDING STORY 2 movie, pressed his hand on
my stomach too. "Aye, very fine. The food has helped, sir."

"Thank you Doctor, for payment you can write my MHO."

"You mean HMO?"

Slap.

"Ow!"

"MHO it is, sir."

"Thank you for your underground house call."

"You are welcome." Landen put John Darling's hat back on. "Oi, I'll put
this back on the little house."

Slap.

"You pretending is not well, Landen."

"You broke pretending. I complain of Peter!"

"No one complains of me!"

"Oh I forgot," Landen said.

Slap.

"Ow, thank you Peter." I heard footsteps out.

"Clear out boys, for tonight, you sleep in the little house."

"What all of us?" Pare.

"Yes all of us, except me," Peter stuck his chest out, "I stand guard
over the underground house."

"Against who?"

"There's always enemies in Never Never Neverland."

"Goodnight poppa." The others all said goodnight and of course Jennie,
who couldn't talk, hugged Peter around the waist and left. Peter kissed
his head and let him go off.

Pare complained on his way out, "There's not enough room for us to sleep
in that house."

Rico smiled, "Yes there is, silly ass."

"Cmon," dark Je'ne said.

The boys left. Peter was outside, sword drawn. He'd soon fall asleep out
there, I knew he would. And the fairies would come by and tweak his nose;
of course any other boy out there they would do mischief to but not
Peter.

In my sleep, I began to hear a song that I hated. "Every one knows it's
Wendy. Who's streaking down the street, smiling at everyone she sees,
it's Wendy..."

Wendy. Wendy. It's all about her isn't it? I stirred and turned in my
sleep. Outside, so did Peter. I hoped he wasn't having one of his
dreams. But I was having one of my own. I turned on my side. I wondered
how long I had been sleeping. Time was so strange in Neverland. "Wendy."

"Yes I loved him. But you love him more."

"Who are you?" As if I needed to ask.

"Wendy, silly."

"Well Wendy Silly, you can't have him now."

"I know. I don't want him. I have had a husband that I loved very much."

"I know."

"You do. You read. He doesn't. Don't tell him."

"He knows."

"Oh yes, my memory is as bad as his sometimes."

"That's not possible," I laughed. "Are you...? Are you a ghost?"

"Yes but don't fear..."

"Oh I'm not. I mean if I were straight I'd think I could love you. Go for
you. You know."

"Oh, you do me a pleasure. I'm here to let you know that Peter loves me."

"Gee, thanks a lot."

"No, not that way. I think that you would sacrifice yourself for him
but..."

"I would."

"But more importantly, I believe he would give up his life here for you."

"No," I put my head down and dropped some tears. I always seem to be
able to do that.

"Yes, I can prove it to you."

"How?"

"I can't reveal that. It would ruin it."

"I don't know. I don't want to lose him or change him or make him do what
I want. I want what he wants."

"I know. That's the difference between you and me. I needed to grow up.
To become a woman."

"I don't."

"I know."

"I mean need to become a man."

"Or a woman."

I laughed as her joke. "No, I want to be a boy if that's what he wants."

"Who knows what Peter wants."

"Exactly the point I"m trying to make."

"You do. And I can see your heart. It's good in there. And he loves you.
And he wants you. No matter what."

"I'm not sure I want to leave and go back to...to THAT."

"I know that too."

"Do you know everything?"

"Well on the other side...it's complicated but also very easy to
understand."

"I don't."

"And you won't. I didn't until I got here. I love my mother."

"So do I. But I love him in a new way and I need him."

"And he needs you."

"I'm not sure."

"I am. Goodbye."

"No, don't go. Wendy? Wendy? Wendy?"

Peter woke up outside the hole he usually flew down and jumped, "I WASN'T
SLEEPING!!!!"

"Wendy?"

He heard this. Peter grew wide eyed and jumped down the hole. He landed
hard on the floor with his bare feet and came over to me, me in my sleep.
"Wendy."

I was turning and tossing but sleeping. "Wendy."

Peter got on top of me and as I struggled in my sleep disturbance, he
held my arms and put his head on my chest. The warmth filled me up and
his light glowed from him to me. I slowed in my movements. My legs were
between his. He looked up from my chest and kissed my chin. He moved
upward. I hoped he wasn't going to notice how hard I was. I feel asleep
fast and a deep warmth filled my dreams and angels and fairies and light
creatures were there. All beautiful and all happy. They enveloped me and
I saw him in the center. Peter. My dear Peter. He grew over them all and
came toward me and held out his arms. He put his hands on my shoulders
and put me to my knees. Suddenly he had a long sword in his hand and he
brought it up and at first, I didn't know what he was going to do. He
swung the sword a few times and then up again and then down...at me! He
knighted me. Sword to my shoulder and it was cold and then hot. I was
hot. He bent down to his knees and hugged me. This wasn't just a dream.
If it were my dream, I would be...well, Peter didn't ever have sex and
may never. I wasn't sure he knew what that meant or what that was and
even if he did have sex, what would that do to him?

"I wasn't asleep!" Peter woke up and jumped. It was daytime. He flew
down the hole to me. I stretched. I thought was dreaming. And perhaps I
had. "You're alright!"

"Of course," I pulled the blankets down, "Now that you're here."

"I forgive you."

"I know." I got up and ran to him, "I'm...I'm..." I stopped short of
his marvelous body, "I'm sorry..."

"For what?"

"For what I did to you..."

"Oh, I already forgot that. If I say I forgive you, I do and that means I
don't remember what ill you've done me..."

"Isn't that a bit..."

"What?" He raised an innocent eyebrow to me. His face showed such
childlike qualities. He really didn't know.

"A...a bit dangerous? I mean if someone like Hook did a wrong to you, and
you don't remember it then can't it happen again?"

Peter shrugged and smiled, moving over to take his fake breakfast, "Ahh,
it's just another adventure then. Besides you keep going on about this
Hook person and I swear I can't really remember him much."

I sighed. "I'm sorry I lied to you."

"You didn't. I don't really understand everything you do. But I do want
you here with me." He turned to me and came to me and I let him. He
squeezed me tight like a bear and kept at it. "Ohhhh, I'm so glad you are
here with me and are going to stay here with me."

But I was not.



CHAPTER 16: SINGING

I don't want to give you the impression that all was angst and trouble.
There were times like this: Peter rose up above the treetops, I at his
side. He put lips, those thick luscious lips to pipes and played. It was
not quite dark yet and not quite still daytime but somewhere in between.
The colors of the NeverLand sky were brilliant: orange, blue, pastel
like, chalk clouds, cotton clouds, red, yellow, streaks, moon light,
sunlight, and green reflecting. His music made the trees wiggle, the snow
melt, and the birds join in. The lights that rose by the thousands were
fairies and elves and imps and even trolls, all dancing and enjoying his
pan pipes playing. He swung around to eye me and those blue orbs melted
my own light brown eyes. I blushed. He flew closer and closer to me and
his body bumped into mine. I let my hands wrap around him and we ascended
together toward the rising moon and the lowering sun. The grass stood up
and took notice of him. The fireflies burst from a cocoon and hovered
around us. Creatures of light danced, fire around our heads. Even the
croc was dancing on its tail. I knew now why the fairies made some stupid
rule about Peter returning to his mother if the window was barred. I
always wondered why he couldn't just walk in through the front door. They
wanted him here: they would miss his music too. He knew that. I wondered
if he thought about her and her barring him out. Why would she? To
protect her other son maybe. As we rose up, Nico, Wendy's wolf danced
with a female wolf; Indians were out dancing, even some leftover pirates
were dancing with left over gladiators. The trees' leaves swayed. Snakes
flung themselves over branches in static electric feelings. I knew why
Peter didn't want to give this up and why the fairies didn't want to give
him up. Peter began to stop playing but he started singing. I couldn't
even tell you the words but the sounds that came from his mouth, his
throat, his belly. Pure joy echoed through my very being. Nothing could
be this fantastic, no feeling, no tingling, no joy could compare to what
I was feeling through every pore of my body. Thick waves of bliss went in
and out of me. An octopus was putting all its arms down and walking,
dancing on the water surface. The mermaids were floating on their backs,
shivering in the joy. The merboys were twirling their fins around each
other. And at the center of this orgasmic tornado was Peter and me,
spiraling, me feeling the vibrations from his singing, the high notes he
hit tore through me like a vanilla ice cream: pleasurable and new to me.
I thought I would burst from love and joy and peace and calm and bliss.
Sweet smells hit us. It was him. His breath was sweet. His sweat was
sugary. His touch was calming. My Adam's apple rose and stuck. I couldn't
breath. I could. I wanted to bask in this forever. Waves, ripples of
creamy joy found me, engulfed me and had a great effect on me and went
through me, passed through me. I felt like I was being recharged,
energized, born again. Fire around my head. Tingling from foot toe to
last hair. Hair stood up. Pan was there, staring at me with love in his
childlike innocent eyes. His mouth made funny moves; was his mouth that
innocent? Or did it hide his more mischievous nature? He was a child. Yet
he was a protector and a swordsmen and a killer of pirates and gladiators
and Roman soldiers. He was a tactitioner in battle, a flyer, a, a
husband? He was my calm in the storm of life. He housed so many things in
one ample muscled body. At that moment, I thought I had been turned into
one of the fairy folk, which would be appropriate, however Peter never
changes things against their will. Never holds things against their will.
Lost boys came and went as they wished. I should have had a clue right
then and there but the feelings were so good, every inch of me was
thrilled to be with him, expanding my consciousness, throbbing with fire
inside and out, wind against my arms and legs, the ground under me, far
under me, and getting further. Moon light betraying a muscle man in the
moon and a girl in the moon. The sun a face staring down at us but then
up at us as it lowered. Blueness hit the sky and darkness, it was getting
into night. The stars twinkled, they were dancing too. And Peter had one
hand on his pipes and one on my back, and there at the touch point, there
were fires too, fires that warmed me through and through and tingling
like you could not believe. He ignored all that went on to look at me,
dip into me. See into me. Fish darted up out of the ocean and tails
bounced on the waves. Harmonic convergence. Pan's singing, loud notes,
humming, high notes, low brass, tenore, he knew it all, reached it all,
lowered it all. It was addictive, no, HE was addicitive. I couldn't get
enough of him. His eyes began to dart as I think, he became uncomfortable
with the closeness that he himself initiated. He started to move his
chest away, his hips, put some more distance between us as he held me
with one hand. I wasn't going to allow it. I moved in and clung, chest to
chest, stomach to stomach. I wrapped my legs around his hips and folded
them. I put my arms around his bare back and held my own wrists but then
let my fingers spread onto his muscled back. I buried my face in his
massive chest, massive for a boy. He kept on singing through it all but I
could tell the song changed, the theme became more uncomfortable and his
eyebrows were up in a confused state. He was after all is said and done,
a boy. He looks, now, like a 15 year old teenager but he was still a boy.
That was okay by me. This lasted all night and he broke out of his
uncomfortableness with more song and more themes and began to play his
pan pipes again and it was the wildest thing I have ever encountered and
this was not the last time he did this to me, to us, to Neverland, for
every living thing was caught under his themes and some things that were
not living were also.

The Girl in the Moon: "He's beautiful."

I couldn't add to that.

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