Peter Pan and Me

PETER PAN AND ME 36: LIFE AFTER SETH

Seth, a half demon, half human son of the devil, was torn between two
worlds, good and evil. When his mother escaped from a cult after him, she
hid him via her brother, in Venice, Italy. She slowly went insane and her
family took her for help or had her committed. For immortality Seth's
uncle sold his soul to the devil but didn't realize that he would in
return, never die but he would age and become a living skeleton. He broke
the pact and this cost him his life and also the cult, which failed to
find Seth. Seth lived in Venice and went to a boarding school where he
met an innocent girl named Juana. Seth's evil side lured her to a gym
locker room while his more innocent human side was there just to agonize
or maybe even kill himself. Despite Juana's desire to wait to have sex
until she was married to Seth, for she loved him, Seth's demon side took
over and raped her. A knife from the devil appeared in his hand and he
stabbed her fatally. In order to become fully human, Seth needed someone
to banish the evil from his very being, his very genes. Seth knew that
Neverland had such a person but he was sure it was not Peter Pan. As it
turned out, Peter was the one and while Seth's evil side began to turn
Neverland into a hellish substitute to please the devil, Peter was slain
by Seth who used Chase's life against Peter. Peter returned with help
from heaven and his old friends John and Tink and others and using
Excaliber. In a major fight, Peter not only rebuked the evil from his own
body that Seth placed there but he also regained Excaliber via Chase who
was drawn into the lake by the lady of the lake. There, she gave Chase
Excaliber. Despite winning the fight, Peter was amazed when Seth still
had the demon wings to fly off. Peter and Chase gave chase and waited in
a cemetery for Seth to emerge. Seth told them about the girl he loved and
hoped together the three of them could raise her from the dead. Using
Excaliber, and Chase as a go between, Peter connected with Seth and Chase
channeling all the power from Seth, Peter, and Excaliber, was able to
raise Juana from the dead...but it left Chase totally drained of energy,
meaning he was dead....and...

Peter's face jumped back and he had a big O on his mouth. Then he looked
angry. At me! Just fancy that! I'm the one who's dead this time and
Peter's mad at me! Well, I guess I was mad at him when he died. But...

"Peter, I'm not dead," I thought. "I am not leaving you! I refuse. I will
not budge. Heaven can't have me, not yet. I won't move out of this body."
And it was true. Unlike Peter Pan, I was not about to leave and take
that next great adventure. I was not going to leave Peter, for he'd go
and get himself into all kinds of heated trouble without me to guard his
saner self. With frustration, I found my commands to my legs to move or
my muscles to sit up, would not be answered. "I'm still alive!" But it
was my spirit that lived, not my body. I could see a dazed petite girl
standing over me with Seth and Peter. Seth looked worried. The girl was
just in a fog...as we all were in this island cemetery in Italy's Venice
area. The sun was starting to slowly come up but the night clouds
remained and thunder began.

For a minute and a minute exactly, Peter thought...and I know this from
many sources but the most reliable was my link with Peter. Peter thought
as he did with Wendy when Tootles accidentally shot her with an arrow
thanks to jealous Tinkerbell. Peter hesitated. The pain was too much. As
he contemplated doing the same thing then as he was now: leaving and
skipping away gayly and with joy and singing, forgetting me as he once
would have done to Wendy, as the moss covers my body and the leaves give
me a final resting place among them. Peter would skip off and forget me.
I tried to say, "NO!" Peter don't! And he would forget if he left. I
wanted to cry. Again. Sigh. But this Peter Pan was not the same Peter Pan
of old. He didn't leave Wendy and he would not leave me-this Peter would
not entertain such thoughts again, for he was changed by me and his love
for me and mine for him. His blind staring at my dead body came to an
end.

"No," Peter said, "NO! I won't have it!" I felt myself being picked up
bodily. My back arched.

"Peter, come back!" I heard Seth yell. Seth looked at Excaliber. He
knew it had been filled with goodness and it burned him the last time he
picked it up. He also knew that it could help revive me. He reached for
it with both hands. He recalled the agony. He hesitated. His hands were
within reach.

Peter was flying in the air with my back spread out in his hands, holding
me up bodily across them, horizontally. The dark clouds came up behind
him and the half light shone through. Peter was ranting, "I will not
permit it!"

Seth yelled again, "Peter, you'll just get yourself killed! Get back down
here!"

"NO!" Then Peter lowered his voice and seemed to dance his toes on the
darkest cloud he could find, "Oh by all of nature's quirks and fury, heed
my cry mother earth and father sky, don't be daft, rain down the power to
revive my better half." My head hung back and my feet dangled, my legs
bent, my hair hanging down Peter's left arm. He was still holding me up.
Peter danced off the cloud and flew under it now and downward a bit,
then hovered. "Lightning which is thus so bold, strike true my love from
this thunderous sky, make it so that he does not fry but live as free to
fly as a dove!" A second later: "COME ON! DO IT! I PETER THE PAN
COMMAND THEE!"

"Peter!" Seth cried, "You must come and get the sword!" Seth picked up
Excaliber, for now he could. He was within inches of it, "I...I can't..."

Hands moved over Seth's hands and eased them downward with him. Seth
looked over his shoulder. Behind him, interlocking her arms with his, was
Juana, "Yes, you can. You're human now, all throughout your body, my
love."

Seth reached down and with both hands took up the hilt of the sword and
lifted it. "Peter! Here!" He tossed Excaliber upward and it spiraled,
end over end. "Don't touch it, it'll..."

Peter saw the sword fly up but he couldn't reach for it. Instead, he used
his foot to kick it up and the flat side hit my back.

"OW!"

Lightning rained down and hit my belly and I shuddered. Somehow,
magically via Excaliber I imagine, Peter was not jolted by this. He was
flying steadily upward as the lightning hit me and I jumped upward with
bent legs up, knees to chest, and chin to same, like some strenuous
exercise crunch. I was startled awake and jumbled, I fell right off
Peter's hands. Peter watched and smiled. And waited. And waited. And
watched with a great ear to ear grin, the piece of shit that he was.

Juana was waiting too and looking up with Seth, who squinted, "What's he
doing?"

I was falling uncontrollably. In my state, I couldn't fly correctly, if
at all. I tumbled back downward until I rolled over in a clumsy state of
affairs to try to fly and now I was face down...looking at the giant
headstones and statues coming up to me. Rather, I was flying down to them
and they would hit me and I would get all splattered and...I waited for
him. I relaxed. I knew him well enough to know he'd wait until the last
second.

Peter pulled me up. He grabbed me under the arms and pulled me upward. He
wrapped his arm around my back and he was side to side with me, pressed
to my hip. Even though my stomach tumbled with that roller coaster ride
effect as I was pulled up within inches of a giant statue's upheld sword,
I felt no nausea. I smiled and Peter's face was even with my own. He
looked at me so adoringly and happily that I melted. I smiled as the wind
blew through both our hair and intermingled my hair with his. I tilted my
head in a cacophony of love. I breathed but Peter didn't wait. He put
his lips onto mine and blew into my lungs, carefully. He did this as we
came to a gentle landing. He had his hand on my back and pulled me into a
hug. He was breathing for me. It was totally awesome. I tingled all over.


Seth to Juana: "I'm sorry."

"I know. And before you ask, I forgive you."

"Do you want to get married?"

Peter broke from my kiss, "EWL!!! Gross. I can't stay here and hear this,
here."

I laughed, taking my tongue back. "Peter....I forgive you too."

"For what?"

"Then again maybe I don't." I smiled, but of course I did. But his
words had cut me like a knife. He hurt me deeply. Calling me a fucking
faggot? That hurt more than life itself. Threatening me with death and
calling me a disloyal mother? I wanted to be like him and leave that
memory behind but I could not. I didn't think I could get over his words
and his tone. He probably already forgot what he said.

"You are alright."

"Yes, I am." I said, "Just, kinda tired. I think. And energized at the
same time." I blinked and Peter smiled and put his hands on my
shoulders. I took his hands and kissed them and then turned to Seth,
"Seth, what will you do now?"

"I shall return to the human world. And live as a man."

"EEEKKK!" Peter took to the sky. "Fare thee well, Seth! Have a good
life. We must be on our way to make Neverland once more fun and gay."

"Sorry about that!"

Peter waved, "Not to worry. You were my most excellent enemy! The best!
But I...ahh, I was better!"

"Chase," Seth said.

"Enough said," I smiled and put a hand on his shoulder which was above my
chin, "Goodbye Seth, have a good life. You and she deserve it."

Juana kissed my cheek, bending down a bit, "Thanks for everything, little
angel."

I turned red. I flew up a bit and waved, turning back to them and then
turned to Peter, "Hey, Peter let's get back."

We watched for a bit from the air as Seth and Juana began to walk out of
the graveyard toward the main office as the sun came up from the horizon,
glinting on the waters surrounding the island. Man and women, soon to be
husband and wife, her hair blond, flowing in the morning breeze. The mist
lifted now and the fog was gone. The birds were singing. Even the summer
bugs were humming now. Their outlines were all we saw soon enough. I was
crying.

Peter looked at me and didn't want to mention he saw tears. "We deserve
some fun now. We will go home the long way!"

"Peter, we can't."

"Besides," He shrugged, "Either way is the long way."

"I'm really beat. And besides, Peter, we have to get the Indians and the
animals and the fairies back."

"I'm sure they already know, some of them, and even now are on their way
back to my domain."

"When you died, why didn't Neverland break up again?"

"Or go cold? Easy. I was never fully gone. I was in you." He put his
hand on my heart and warmth spread there. I nodded in acknowledgment and
together we flew off, leaving Seth and Juana to make their way up the
office steps, his arm around her small waist.

Landing in a Venice garden near a church with gargoyles staring down at
us, Peter found some vines and strings and leaves and put those on.
"These will have to do until I can get the better variety like my older
and better ones in Neverland, the only place to get the best outfits."

"Where's the sword?"

Peter shrugged, "Back in the lake I imagine. And I also imagine the lake
is back where it should be in time and space. Camelot maybe or Avalon.
Either way, I doubt we will find the lake or the lady or the sword when
we get back to Neverland."

"You know about the Lady of the Lake?"

"Sure, doesn't everyone?" He took off. I shook my head and followed.

There was more after we finally did make it back to Never Never Never
land but I don't want to bore you. For, you see, the devil was mad that
he no longer had a son and that humans were much too clever now to fall
for sex with him, if not for his other tricks. He tried to get us to fall
for more tricks even after we got back home to Never Never land. He
wanted Peter for his son and tries to make Peter think he was his son
from the start and when that didn't work he tried to make Peter think he
was Hook's son and then that Hook was the devil. He used a library of
books that told us that Peter was evil but I destroyed the library. Old
tricks. We didn't fall for it. I don't want to bore you with the details.
For the devil is a bore.


We flew home. The trip home was fun and eventful and we needed this
break:

THEME: THE STRING QUARTET TRIBUTE TO COLDPLAY: CLOCKS INSTRUMENTAL:

As we flew, I grew tired so Peter carried me, me sitting in his arms like
he was Superman carrying that handicapped girl around the world. Old
Episode of an old but good black and white TV series, at least in its
first two years it was black and white. I was also thinking of this
instrumental by the String Quartet : a tribute to Coldplay, the band,
CLOCKS. That always made me think of Peter, for it was both happy and sad
at the same time.

First we flew over Monaco heading out of Italy, crossing over the
Mediterranean Sea for a bit. It was a bright sunny day rising and warm
and hot. The wind cooled us and I looked at Peter and he at me. What
could be better than this. Flying freely in the sky of blue, not a cloud
in the sky now. The sun rising to greet us! I felt so free, so calm, so
peaceful and yet so excited too. I was seeing Europe from the sky! The
breathtaking port below us was amazing with lines of pleasure boats all
over and a bright blue color to the water. There were not many people at
this early but enough to enjoy the spectacle. Peter, being Peter, tap
danced, expertly on the tops of some of the huge rising towers. They were
not as big as in New York but they were awesome and in fact, they were
cleaner looking. I followed Peter's lead but couldn't tap dance as well.
He tapped down on one building and then bounced off it with a push to hit
the top of another, tapping two feet on his toes. Bouncing off. Laughing,
"WHOOOO HOOOOOO! HAHAHAHA!"

His fun was infectious and I was hooked so to speak. Peter flipped and
landed both feet onto a huge rock face of the cliffs of Monaco that faced
the spiraling towers and he pushed off it, giggling. I followed and
nearly killed myself. But I didn't care. I put my arms out and waved and
then flew like a plane. Peter flew like a dove. I soon caught up to him
and he looked at me and smiled and looked sheepish or embarrassed. He
shook it off him, it looked cute on him. But now his fun face returned
and he smiled and licked his lips. "At night, this city glows like Tink's
light or the fairy boy's wings and nether regions."

"Oh I do so want to see that!"

"We haven't time, maybe on another adventure for now, it's Japanese
Gardens ho!"

"Are we going to Japan?"

"No, silly, there!" Peter dove at an angle and the wind stirred me. I
jetted after him in a diverse pattern and winged my way downward to the
beauty of the clear water falls in the Monaco Japanese Gardens. Bright
green leaves and bushes grew on shiny silver rocks next to a waterfall,
while other different shades of green met the water on the lower side,
sprawling over the rocks on the lower edges. Peter dipped his foot in the
water and then skidded like he was skipping rocks on the surface and
jumped partly in the water and partly out. He laughed all the time and
each new move made a new tone of laugh issue forth from his mouth. He
leveled his feet horizontally now and flew right into the waterfall and
under it. I followed and someone's hand grabbed me and me pulled me over
to a small alcove under the water fall. Peter stood there and pointed at
the waterfall effect: a rainbow of colors as we looked from inside it to
the outside world of green, red tree bushes, and sparkling bubbling water
rushes. I was overcome with a feeling of such beauty I thought I would
stop breathing. Peter hushed himself and drew in breath. He let it out
and yelled and did it again and let it out in my mouth, his lips locked
onto mine. I hugged him tightly. I looked at him closely as our faces
touched. Our noses mingled and rubbed cheeks. We kissed and hovered over
the cliff side and then Peter pulled my arm and we shot out of the
waterfall. We flew up and up and up.

"Higher!"

"Hi ya!" Peter joked, "Look!" The Grand Prix. Peter flew down and
followed the racing cars and tracked them. He spun around the track
overhead. "I win!" He actually outmatched the cars and flew faster than
they could drive. He lapped them twice. I floated there, amazed and then
I tried the same thing but the fumes from the cars overcame me and I
choked. I started to drop and then the bad thoughts about Peter's being
so mean to me started to come. I began to feel sad. I heard him playing
his pipes. He was so dreadfully happy. He'd forget me and that I was
falling. No, he wouldn't. I came up a bit but the fumes choked me into a
coughing fit. Peter came under me and put his head between my legs,
facing the same way I was so that in effect he was now giving me a ride
on his shoulders. He laughed and I laughed, the fumes gone now. He gave
me a shoulder back ride up and up and up. Into the clouds.

"France ho!" Peter said and spilled me off his shoulders.

I yelled and laughed, tumbling off his shoulders, which felt so good and
fine against my bare leg, his bare shoulders. "I see it, I see it!"
We flew down now and under the Arch of Triumph. Peter was following me
for a change. He seemed to be looking for something.

I held back and he came up next to me, "What're you looking for?"

"Cracks."

"WHAT?"

"Last time I was here, a giant monster rose up out of the ground and...oh
never mind, there's the Eiffel Tower! Last one under it is a rotten
egg!!!!!"

"Under?" I stayed in mid air looking at him fly at it.

I could hardly see it. I flew after him. We both flew right at the Tower.
But where I stopped upon getting too close to it, Peter kept going at it
like a rocket. I thought he was going to crash into it like some suicidal
kamikaze but he flew expertly between the girders and the metal towers
holding up the massive structure. I met him on the other side. "You
cheated!" Peter said happy enough, "You have to fly on through it!"

"I...I...ahh, I, ahh, I'm not that good a flyer yet, Peter I don't
think...WHOA!"

I was pulled by the arm again and Peter and I flew right at a series of
interworked girders and I thought I would be chopped up into pieces by
the metal arms and support beams but Peter flew, non stop, right in
between all of them, with me in tow! He laughed. I had closed my eyes but
after this we did it again and again and again and soon I was laughing.
Then he flew less horizontally and grabbed me up in his powerful arms and
spiraled up and up faster than I thought possible. We were at the very
top of the tower. Peter held onto the point and let me go and using one
hand to hold it, whizzed around and around it, "Ring around the rosie,
pocket full of posy, ashes, ashes, Chase don't fall down!"

I laughed and took his hand, the wind blowing my hair and his together,
we got that close. We both spiraled around it now and Peter decided in
mid spiral to do this backwards so he bumped into my front and made my
penis hard and shoved his body into mine and we both spiraled backward. I
laughed loud belly laughs and Peter stopped, went forward and met me from
behind, shoving into me and now spiraling me back the other way, so now I
was in front and he behind me, jerking and thrusting. It was quite
erotic. Then he tired of this and flew off, me following. Chasing.

"Switzerland Mountains next pass!"

We flew on and on and I was hardly tired now. The exhilaration of Peter's
joy and glee, the open air, the sun light splendor, all filled me and
gave me fuel to continue. I was never more alive! I chilled on every part
of my body at the wonder of it all, a great chill. A fiery life within me
and goose bumps at the magic of the world and Peter Pan and nature and
God and in general of just actually being alive and a spirit being at the
same time!

"Aletsschgletsscher!"

"God bless you!"

"He already has...with you!"

"Thanks!" I yelled because now the wind was really picking up and making
it difficult to hear.

"No, that's the name of the highest mountain in Switzerland. See, down
there!"

Snow. Ugghh! But it never looked so nice. Wide open mountain passes,
covered with flat snow. Snow cars tire tracks and huge gray mountains of
steady sturdy rock rising over the passages. White capped. The white
clouds flew in and seemed to stay rooted to the tops of each peak. What a
grand spectacle! What massive power, what giantism. What a miracle of
God! I felt overwhelmed by the mountains here. The peaks were so high,
the mountains so thick. My dick was harder than ever at just the
magnificence of all of this. Vast dips and drops and rises.

Peter tapped the point of one peak and bounced to the other and flipped
to another. He threw a snowball at my head but I ducked out of the way. I
flew up and down and hid in a cloud infront of him. I had a snow ball in
my hand ready to pounce on him. He came up behind me, inside the cloud
already and shoved my hand down onto my head. I laughed as snow dripped
all over my head as he crushed the snowball on my head. He grabbed my
legs, lowering himself down and pulled me from the cloud, and we exited
under it. Snow started. I was glad Peter decided to head away from here
now, because as much as some snow is beautiful, I hate snow and being
snowed on. Magically though, all of Mount whatever it was called could
have fallen on me and the cold wouldn't effect me. I shared Peter's
magical ability not to be too effected by weather and climates.

"Next stop, my first runaway hide out! The great Kensington Gardens,
England!"

I thrilled to see Kensington Gardens! "I always wanted to see that!"

"We won't stay long!"

"Ohhh, but Peter!"

"Maybe if it's night and after lockout time we can see the fairies up to
no good."

"A lot like you are they?"

Peter laughed, "No, I am like they and they are like me."

"Goo woop de do!" I laughed.

We flew at England, crossing yet more water. I must admit I started to
feel a bit tired now. Flight made me that way sometimes.

All this time the instrumental of the song CLOCKS played in my head. Was
that Peter's doing? At times during the journey, he would take out his
pipes and play them loudly and in long bursts of dazzling sound and put
them back. I believe he did this to let out some of the excitement he
was feeling. He would probably have exploded if he didn't. Like a release
valve.

England was beautiful in the countryside. Pastures of green, farm
animals, dilapidated castles and restored ruins, groves, bicycle paths,
tree lined hills, open areas of pure bliss. Luck was with Peter as usual
and the fog England is so famous for was no where to be found. "Haaa,
I've seen it hundreds of times, let's just skip it," Peter played me.

"Oh no, Pete, I want to see it!"

"Don't call me Pete, it sounds so....so...so..."

My face fell but then I let it smile and revel in his childishness,
"Adult?"

"Yeah! Okay come on!"

Kensington Gardens. What to say about the gardens? Lovely, passionate,
nature at its utmost. Surrounded by...manmade objects here and there. I
flew but lost Peter for a short time. Then I found him atop his own
statue! That statue that makes him look boyish but also manly somehow,
makes him look like a little boy, a fairy. They didn't quite capture all
of him though for his warrior spirit was not in it. But narcissistically,
and in character, Peter was hugging his own statue and kissing it, like a
child doing something he was not supposed to. It made me laugh. I flew
behind the statue, a position I would love to be in, in reality with the
real Peter and kissed the back of the neck of the statue while rubbing
the real back of the real Peter's neck. The momentum I felt on this trip
never ebbed, even when we stopped at times. Peter laughed again and again
and flung himself backward and with arms out, shot over some treetops. I
followed and caught up to him, believe it or not and found him. He was
over a pond, the Round Pond. There was perambulators and in them were
giant toy sail boats. Babies were walking. Parents were with them. Men,
older men and younger men and some boys too, were sailing these huge toy
boats in the Round Pond. They had strings attached to the toy boats.
Peter pointed to one of them and I squinted. For he and I and the boy
sailing it, saw little men on deck going about the work. I was amazed and
wondered what they were but talking now would make that magic vanish I
thought so I remained just watching. The men went about sailing. Sails
were rising, catching the breeze and one boat slipped off it's line.
Peter flew over it and as the young teen who lost it yelped about losing
it, Peter blew and the toy sail boat, a stick boat, I think, blew toward
the teen and he was able to lean over the side to the still waters and
catch it. My attention turned back to the toy boat with the little men on
the decks. They put up a few sails and seemed to sail away.

Peter came to me and recited something from Barrie I think, "The sweetest
craft is one that slips her moorings, called a stick boat, because she is
rather like a stick, until she is in the water and you are holding the
string. Then are you walk round pulling her, you see little men running
about her deck, and sails rise magically,"....Peter half seemed to know
that his voice at this recitals of his were truly touched by magic of
their own and half didn't know that his voice possessed a sort of female
tone to it at these times but also were of their own nature very boyish
and manly too and in a low whisper he continued, "and catch the breeze
and you put in on dirty nights at snug harbors, which are unknown to the
lordly yachts," then his tone got sad and depressed, "You are a
solitary boy...while all this is taking place..." We watched the boy
sail his ship away from the others. Peter continued, "You may talk to
yourself throughout the voyage, you may not know when it is time to go
home, where you have been or what swelled your sails..."

Or makes you fly, a great swordsmen or be able to dark or light magic
or...be Peter Pan.

Peter cheered a little, "Your treasure trove is all locked in your hold,
so to speak, which may be opened by another little boy many years
afterward..."

I didn't like the turn of attitude so I licked his cheek and said, "You
can't catch me!"

Peter shot at me, his attitude of fun renewed, "Lick me willya! I'll lick
you!"

We shot over the boats and I couldn't help but touch my toe to every one
of their highest sail points, acting like Peter. Peter did the same, not
to be outdone and we left Kensington Gardens behind. A magical place I
would to return to but its effect on Peter as this time was such that I
decided to leave it behind and save it for another time, other
adventures, and I surely did return to it, sometimes alone, sometimes
with Peter and sometimes with Lost Boys and sometimes with Peter and the
Lost Boys and sometimes...you get the idea.

CLOCKS plays in my mind. Just the music not the lyrics for some reason.
It had me pumped and excited and motion loving. Peter pipes again as we
fly over the great locales of England, Scotland, and Ireland and I will
describe those to you in greater depth in a bit. First I have to relate
that I've been to several different types of churches and I must tell you
that I've never been closer to God than when Peter was in this mood and
flying freely over the Earth or anywhere else, Mars, Venus, etc. I was so
free, flying like this, in this great child like mood and with my chest
beating from fun and freedom and free fall and wind drifts. I believe we
were meant to be like this. Like Adam and Eve were before the fall. I
believe that we were not meant to strive, to struggle for survival, to
work our whole lives, to die in suffering pain from horrible diseases, I
believe we were meant to be free and exist in love without all our evil
parts detracting from it all, I believe were not meant to die at all! I
believe that that is why I feel so close to God when I'm with Peter in
this state, flying overland, oversea, overtime and over space, even other
universes. Because that is what God is and the feelings I have that
overtake my spirit are goodly, kind, loving, freedom absolute. No money
worries, no car worries, no weather worries, nothing to bring me down.
Just me and the open sky and Peter! And love. Love for each other, for
mankind and women kind, for children everywhere, for all that is good and
loving and unselfish and caring and cures for diseases. The wind wrapped
me in its loving arms and I drifted up and up and up and sideways and I
turned my body any which way I cared to. And the sights...the countries
were so pretty! Green, lush, mossy, attractive massive macho rocks and
adorned with beautiful feminine flowers and vines and twigs and cute
little trees! I thought I would burst. It was even better than that night
I was singing with Peter and dancing with him over the trees! This was
total freedom. Something every man and woman, girl and boy, longs for! I
felt like I was part of the wind. Peter piped again as the instrumental
reached each part where he should pipe. I would swear Peter knew this
song was playing in my head or maybe he even put it there. I didn't care.
It soothed me and energized me at the same time. I was alive. And close
to God! Closer than I've ever been. Closer to than any church, manmade,
could make me! No one could feel this good! But I did and he was there
next to me, smiling and piping and laughing, all delicious sounds! Oh
God! I want to explode in love and happiness! I'm light as a feather! I'm
free! I'm flying. I can fly! I CAN FLY! Whaaaaaaawhoooooooooo!

Peter got between my legs with his legs and as he flew under me. He
turned me over onto my back and he was now flying on top. He laughed and
kissed me and I was sure I exploded in more ways than one. Nothing could
compare to this! Nothing could be equal to this except meeting God face
to face with Peter by my side! I exploded!

People say back to nature and all those tired cliche, naturey things and
the back to nature spirit and the mother earth and all that and what they
fail to realize is that the so called circle of life was never meant to
include death in it. That celebrating death is like celebrating something
that never was, something bad. Peter is nature incarnate but he is also
our original nature too, the Adam nature mixed with our fallen nature.
Perhaps that's why I love him so much, he's both.

We flung ourselves over the Isle of Man briefly, a nice area but a bit
congested for me. "Where are we going?" went unanswered. Below a giant
train careened down a rail, almost floating.

"It's on its way to Hogworts School!" Peter shouted.

"What? Are WE GOING THERE?" I asked, excited. I always wanted to go
there and meet Harry Potter and his pals.

"No, this way!" Peter flung himself another way, arms and legs extended
and he laughed, what else? "You know..." Peter began, "Jimmy was so
afraid to ride half ticket by rail. Me?" He put his hands out as if to
ask a question but he was really making a statement, "I revel in
traveling half ticket by rail because I...I..AM A
BOY!!!!oYoYoYoYoYoYoYoYoYoYoY!"

"Peter!" I yelled in joy as I followed him. I actually caught up to him
or he let me, "Are you telling me that JM is JM Barrie? The writer?"

"Oh yeah, the storyteller boy I brought with me...he...look, Scotland..."
Peter pointed to a large town in Scotland. It was Barrie's birthplace:
Lilybank in the Tenements, Kirriemuir. A wash house stood in the
foreground to where we flew over.

"Peter...that looks like Wendy's little house!"

"Yes, I made it after I saw it."

"I thought the Lost Boys built the house."

"With me!" Peter said, as if he were hurt that I would think he wouldn't
join in in making the house. Indeed, I really believed he did help make
the house and it was he who plopped John's hat on top it. That, his hat,
and John's way of skipping rocks over the Mermaid's Lagoon were two
things John left in Neverland.

"It's so...cute! It's darling."

Peter frowned, "Darling? Girls use that word. Girls! Are you gay?" He
flew away from me.

I almost fell out of the sky. It was like those things Seth made Peter
say. The things that may have come from deep down someplace. Yet it was
such a boyish thing for him to say too. Boys use GAY to insult each
other, so do girls really. It's not even an insult anymore but it really
is. It's something shunned. Me. I flew lower. I was not having happy
thoughts.

Peter returned to me, "What's wrong?"

"You said...you said..."

"Little Jimmy was only nine years old when he came to Neverland."

"Did you and he...?"

"Play lots of games?" Peter's fiery love for games came through in his
excitement, "YES!" He said through lisped voice and almost tight teeth.
"He was so cool."

"He...he wasn't....?"

"He had to go back because there were boys that needed him. I'm sorry to
say that they all grew up and most of them are dead. I think all of them
might be. I took many half way to the gates. And I think....one was not a
good swimmer. It's important to be a good swimmer, Chase."

"Yes, I know." I looked downward.

"Cheer up," Peter put a hand on my chin. "The best is next." He was so
enchanting and entranced, that he made me cheer up with just his voice
and I rose higher with Peter having to kick his legs to come up to catch
me. "That's better, my love. You are so cool too!"

"Peter...." I said, "It's getting late and...I'm..."

Peter pulled my arm, "C'mon!"

CLOCKS in my head and in Peter's pipes. We flew. On and on and the air
felt so warm and cool at the same time.

We flew over the Isle of Man again and headed to Ireland, rolling hills
of green. Farmland. Isolated huts, big cities. But the best was the
Wishing Arch, County Antrim. Ireland coves and inlets of North Ireland's
coastline. Peter told me this was the area he was checking out when he
found the twins, the triplets, Barry, Bo, and Bailey. Not quite here but
near here in the war torn cities. Violence was down now and I think Peter
had something to do with it. A whisper in the right ear, a weapon that
didn't work there, a bomb dismantled or thrown into outer space here, a
seeing of the light there, a dream spinner of peace there. Peter was
amazing, there were things he could do with little or no help from
fairies that even I didn't know about yet. We dove under the arches of
moss and green glowing plants over the arches of rock and stone and sand.
The water was nearby, blue and still. The sun was still up but moving
toward the horizon. I laughed as I chased Peter under an arch and he flew
over it and landed on top. I came up behind him and pushed him. He
tumbled off and laughed and spun into a horizontal flying mode, "Make a
wish, Chase, it's all yours!"

I made one. I ponder whether I should tell you or not. I wanted Peter. I
wanted he and I to have an even closer relationship. The anger in me
dissipated now and it was a good thing because I might have wished Peter
gone or something if his homophobic comments to me, even if he wasn't
homo phobic himself, were fresh in my mind. As I made my wish, I saw a
glint of sparkling light coming off the rock arch, the wishing arch one.
It glowed and I saw a Peter in the horizon beyond the arch. I looked up.
Peter had landed on top of the arch I was nearer to and I looked back to
the Wishing Arch. Peter was there. It was an older Peter, not much older
but a wiser, more loving Peter, if that were possible. A Peter that had
had sex and liked it. And he was not perverted by it but made more
complete. The baby Peter came to me, and he seemed suddenly so small
compared to me and so child like that I was shamed. But my body was
smaller. "Made?"

I snapped into reality, "Oh..." I was almost surprised by him coming
down to me. I looked up and the other Peter waved from the mist of the
Wishing Arch which became sprayed by waves and water from the sea. He was
gone in the last hit of the misty waves. "Oh, yes, Peter, I have. I..."

Peter covered my mouth, a dirty hand slapped over it, and it hurt. "NO!
DON'T TELL ME OR IT WON'T COME TRUE!COME!"

I wanted to really. "Okay," I mumbled from under his sweet tasting hand.

CLOCKS playing in my mind. Piping the instrumental pieces. Peter. Me.
Sea. Air. Wind. Sun.

We flew to the Giant's Causeway on the North Coast and we saw rocks of
40,000 in number, all closely placed, hexagonal pillars of black basalt.
"The Giant's Causeway!" Peter announced, "Made by the real Giants!"

"Really?"

"No."

"Oh Peter."

"No, really it was," he laughed and hit his elbow into my chest, joking
with me, "Really. Giants made these and put these in place."

"It's marvelous!"

We flew over them and the water sprayed against them and up at us and the
water spun me. Peter of course came out of the spin easily but I had some
trouble and was spinning down at the black flat top of one of the huge
rocks. Peter grabbed my forearm and pulled up, flying his free hand up
and his legs down, like Superman at a comet. Or something. I coughed and
Peter took a hand and put it in his crotch and flung it at me and fairy
dust covered me. I was blinded and he let go with his other hand.
Blindly, I went down and thought, oh well, he's tired of me and wants me
to go splat on the rock. Instead when I opened my eyes I was over the
black basalt and the sun was going down and the shadows looked so lovely
against the black rock towers. Peter was under me, smiling that big
stupid grin of his. I loved it.

Next stop was the Rock of Cashel, a giant hill in County Tipperary. Peter
was singing, "It's a long way from Tipperary..."

I didn't know he knew that song.

Still CLOCKS TICKED ON in my mind. "Leprechauns? Can you see them?"

"No. Yes!" There they were over the trees and bushes trying to hide from
my eyes. I flew over them and laughed and they threw wooden canes and
spears at my face. I blew the make shift weapons back at them and they
yelled at me and ran away, the weapons missing the green little guys and
gals. "Sorry! I love you guys!" I laughed. I did love them. I loved
everyone and everything. I loved the bully who picked on me in the locker
room when I was in 8th grade. I loved the teenager who said he loved me
but really didn't. I loved the girl who turned me down for senior prom. I
loved the preacher who just wanted money and tried to convert me and did
convert me. I loved the other preacher who broke up with his wife. And
the other who cheated on his. I loved God. I loved the bum in the street.
I loved the AIDS patients. I even loved the evil doers, hoping their
evil, which is what I hated, would turn to good. Peter was behind me and
put his arms around my chest from behind and cradled me. "We have to go."

"But it's almost dark. And I wanted to have lots of adventures in this
wonderful place."

"Another time. It is time for Neverland to have it's Peter."

Me too, I thought.

"We will have adventures here, dangerous ones, filled with blood and
action and giants and monsters and the tiny folk. And evil men out to
blow things up and..."

"Okay, let's get outta here."

The sun doing it's pastel job on the sky, frames of light rising from the
sinking orb, creating a rainbow series from each sunspot. It looked like
the top of a Japanese wave fan, different colors of course. Raining
purple overtaking the orange and red and pink! The clouds joined in on
the parade and moved all over it. Peter turned me to fully see and flew
right into it. The blue and marine took over and the purple moved up on
them and collided, a blast of color hit the sky and enveloped us! I was
coated in colors and warmth. And then the sun went down. And we were over
the ocean. The Atlantic Ocean. Titanic sunk. I started to get scared.


I was so tired and didn't realize it. I lowered so low that my belly
extended out and hit the sea waves. Something brushed against me and I
hoped it wasn't something with shark like skin or gosh, shark skin
itself. There were things moving around me. Peter laughed and kicked a
few things away from me and told me to get on his back. I didn't have to
think twice about that. I hopped on. I rested, my belly on his back. He
rose up higher. Then he laughed and turned over on his back and dropped
me. I yelled and dropped, "You bastarddddddddd! Pet-Tahhhhhhh!"

A killer whale rose up from the water but I only saw parts of its
enormous body because the blackness was so thick, the moon not out, that
I felt totally alone. I moved at it and then I felt it nudge me lightly
and into Peter's arms and Peter, flying vertically again, hugged me tight
and I got hard as hell. The whale made a sound and Peter waved, "Thanks!"

"Don't do that again!" I yelled in Peter's grip. "I don't wanna fight up
here!"

"No," Peter looked at my face, "You don't!" He was scaring me.

"You're scaring me!"

"Good! Cause I could let you go and fall into the ocean where over a
hundred of my watery friends, amphibians, mammals, and others, will EAT
YOU!" Peter laughed maniacally.

I shut my eyes, "Peter stop it, please!"

"Awww, I was only kidding," he threw me up in the air and turned
horizontally so that my falling stomach would land on his back again.

"Oafff!"

"Chase, you may have beaten my up when Seth's thing was in me..."

"Say what?"

"...but I can take you any time I want."

"Showing me who's boss?"

"Of course. I am! And don't you forget it!"

"Peter, if you continue to talk this way..."

"YEAH?"

"I will want to leave you. I don't need to be bullied by you! I left that
stuff behind or at least to fight that stuff with you at my side."

Peter laughed, "Oh, I was just teasing you. Forgive me?" I sighed. I
didn't say anything for a long time. Peter's face if I had seen it, would
have registered that I meant what I said and that I was pissed. Peter's
face also started to realize the seriousness of it. Of my anger and my
feelings. "I thought you said you would never leave me? I'm so sorry.
Forgive me, Chase, I ...if you want to leave me, if you wish it, if you
wish it, you may go now, we are going to be soon passing over Long
Island, where you are from, where I first picked up my first true male
love."

"Peter," I said and stroked the back of his neck with the back of my left
hand. I strummed his hair with my other hand, "I would not leave you. I
just need to know that you are as stiff...." Bad choice of words. "That
you are as mad about me as I am about you."

"I'm mad," Peter's tears wavered in his eyes. "Can't you tell how mad I
am. Insane for you. I love you and no one else, Chase. You stayed."

I wanted to say more but words stuck in my throat.

"You will still stay?"

"Yes, Peter, I will still stay."

JM Barrie once wrote a screen play for a movie version of Peter Pan. I am
not sure when he wrote it but I believe it was written long before the
1925 silent movie version that he was deeply disappointed in. I also
wondered when he was in Neverland and wondered if I should query Peter
about him. Was it during the time with Wendy or after or before or both?
I don't know. I do know that Barrie perfecting, adding to, changing, and
subtracting from all his versions of Peter Pan. I think he would have
been very happy with the 2003 December movie of Peter Pan from PJ Hogan.
In the screen play for the proposed film, which was not used in the 1925
version, one of the things Barrie included was what happened to me and
Peter that night:

Peter supported me over the ocean, the best time to fly over it, Peter
thought was night because that was when it was most dangerous and we
could die. At least that is what he said. The Statue of Liberty became
prominent and we were so tired, that we alight on it. It was slippery and
we could not find a resting place. Peter tried to make me think he was
not tired but even he was. It was a long day. A long adventure we had
with Seth, curing Seth, and the fun we had after in Europe. At first I
thought it a real statue. But it mothered us and came to life, to the
extent of making us comfortable in her arms for the night. Peter fell
soundly asleep. He snores sometimes. But he did not snore all night, nor
did he have one of his nightmares. Lights of the city. Lights of boats.

Heavy eyelids rode the pain in my eyes until I drifted off, soul and
spirit, asleep in the arms of the Statue of Liberty and Peter Pan.


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