by Ella Hickson
WENDY. We’re ready, Peter.
TINK. Don’t do this.
WENDY smiles persuasively at PETER.
PETER. You can’t bring bags – you’ll need your arms for flying.
TINK. Oh, for – (Flips out – storms off.)
MICHAEL. Fly? We can’t fly.
TINK. Oh dear, quel dommage – Prissy, Dippy and Dopey won’t be going after all.
JOHN. Flying? Pff – piece of cake – just show me how, picked up ruggers in a jiffy.
PETER. You just have to think one happy thought. One completely happy thought – think it till it fills up your whole head and your feet will just lift right up off the ground.
PETER soars easily into the air. The Darling children try – very hard – but can’t seem to do it.
MICHAEL. I can’t find one.
WENDY. It’s been a long year.
JOHN (sulking). I don’t see why I need to have a happy thought to scalp a pirate.
PETER. Tink, you’ll have to give them fairy dust.
TINK. No – no, no way, not in a month of –
JOHN steals the fairy dust and throws some on himself – TINK charges off after him. JOHN sprays MICHAEL.
Oi! You little – !
MICHAEL. Me! Me too!
WENDY. Me, me – do me!
PETER. Tink?
JOHN. Can’t feel a thing.
TINK throws fairy dust aggressively in WENDY’s face.
MICHAEL. Oh, I feel very odd – very odd – my face is all tingly.
JOHN. Your face is always tingly –
MICHAEL. No it is not!
JOHN (mocking). ‘Oh, my face is all tingly, my legs are all wobbly, my personality is all SOGGY.’
MICHAEL. My personality is not all /
JOHN. / It’s not doing a-a-nything…
JOHN, MICHAEL and WENDY start lifting up into the air.
Oh – oh!
WENDY. No – I – really, it’s silly, actually. All this is… very immature – Peter!
JOHN. Mummy! Mummy! I mean, funny – ha – feels awfully funny!
MICHAEL. The ground is getting very far away!
PETER. Tink – lead the way!
JOHN. I’ll navigate – Chief Scout – got my toggle in no time! Peter, throw me a bearing, old chap!
PETER. Second on the right and straight on till morning!
JOHN. I think you’ll find that’s actually /
TINK. / If you’re coming – follow me!
WENDY. I’m going to find Tom! I’m going to find Tom!
PETER. Hold on!
PETER grabs WENDY’s hand and together they soar up – up into the night sky. He grins at her – he’s got her. She grins back. The ceiling of the bedroom pulls away and the children are exposed to the night sky, full of stars and speckled with snow – the five voyagers zoom upwards, circling the nursery in the night sky above – as if they are a five-figure mobile. Their nightlights become beacons, throwing animals and landscapes up and round the walls. As the children circle, the nursery transforms… The four-poster beds grow up into trunks and sprout leaves – the canopies above the beds stretch out to become a starry night sky, the rocking horse gallops off into the undergrowth, the chandelier grows vines, dropping down and sprouting the most amazing coloured flowers, creeping its way through the forest.
The children exit.
ACT TWO
Scene One
Neverland, a game of bubble ball, and then a gaggle of LOST BOYS, bursts into a clearing in the Neverland forest. They’re all shouting and running. NIBS, nimble and official Second Captain, CURLY, loveable and very much into his custard, SLIGHTLY, nothing if not trying to be proper, and TOOTLES, little Tootles – would give anything to be brave.
NIBS. To me, to me, Slightly! Slightly!
SLIGHTLY gets the ball to NIBS, who receives it and starts winding it through the other LOST BOYS. TOOTLES tries to catch him.
CURLY (faux-commentator). He ducks, he dives – he’s quicker than lightning – Nibsy dribbles dribblier than the niftiest dribbliest dribbler in all Neverland!
NIBS stops a second, face to face with TOOTLES.
TOOTLES. This time, this time, Nibs, I’m going to /
CURLY. And – he – scores!
NIBS kicks the ball through his legs and scores.
SLIGHTLY (taking over the commentating). No way, José, he’s done it again! Tootles is left for dead, eating his dust, see ya later, alligator, you snooze you lose!
TOOTLES. Yes, all right, Slightly!
NIBS dunks the ball offstage. CURLY, still on stage watches him.
NIBS (from off). Hurry up, will you, the mermaids are going to go in goal – we’ll have a proper match.
TOOTLES. That was a proper match.
SLIGHTLY. I’ll be Captain.
CURLY. I’ll be Captain.
SLIGHTLY. I’ll be Captain.
CURLY. I’ll be Captain.
SLIGHTLY. I’ll be Captain.
NIBS enters with the ball.
NIBS. I’m Captain.
SLIGHTLY. Righto.
CURLY. Course.
TOOTLES. No one even considers the idea that I might be Captain.
NIBS. To the lagoon! (Freezes.) Stop.
CURLY. What?
NIBS. Shh! Shh.
They listen – alert.
TOOTLES. W-w-what is it? Nibs?
NIBS. Hunker down, chaps – weapons at the ready; pirates in the undergrowth.
CURLY. Hunting Lost Boys.
NIBS. Weapons at the ready.
TOOTLES. No, no.
TOOTLES panics.
SLIGHTLY. What?
NIBS. We’ll head them off at the gully but we need to get onto high ground.
TOOTLES. Wait.
NIBS. There’s no time.
TOOTLES. I’ve left my bow and arrow – I’ll catch you up, two seconds – promise.
CURLY. Careful, Tootles.
NIBS. We can’t wait.
TOOTLES. I’ll catch you up, I swear.
SLIGHTLY. Hurry! Hurry!
NIBS. This way!
NIBS, CURLY and SLIGHTLY exit in one direction, TOOTLES in the other.
Scene Two
PIRATES enter – a grim and dastardly pack: MURT THE BAT, KNOCK-BONE JONES, SKYLIGHTS and DOC SWAIN. They’re hunting, almost salivating – they’re on the scent of Lost Boy.
JONES. Hunker down, rats – there are pipsqueaks in the undergrowth. Shh!
MURT. Come here, little boys – come to Uncle Murt.
DOC SWAIN. It’s time for a visit to the doctor.
SKYLIGHTS. Shh! There – listen!
The PIRATES all freeze – alert – ready for combat.
MARTIN enters and sneezes violently.
MARTIN. AAAAACCHOOOOOO!
SKYLIGHTS. Martin!
MARTIN. Anyone got a hanky?
SKYLIGHTS. Can we kill the cabin boy yet?
MARTIN. I’m sorry – I’m so sorry, it’s my hay fever. It’s terrible with all this skulking, we’re so close to the grass – the pollen is an absolute nightmare.
Beat. The PIRATES turn on him, irate.
SKYLIGHTS. I think you’ve caught the sun a little bit, lollipop.
MARTIN. No?! Have I? Where? Tch – I used factor fifty all over.
SKYLIGHTS (grabs MARTIN by the scruff of the neck). I’ve had about enough of you.
JONES. Leave him – you’ll make a ruckus and they’re close; I can smell them.
DOC SWAIN sniffs his armpit and looks a little guilty.
DOC SWAIN. That’s not necessarily them.
MARTIN. What if we don’t get them?
SKYLIGHTS (right in MARTIN’s face). If we don’t get them?
MARTIN. Just asking. Just wondering if there’s some sort of contingency. Plan B?
SKYLIGHTS. If we don’t get them then I tell Captain it’s your foghorn that’s blown our cover over and over again.
MARTIN. I – I’m sorry, I can’t help my sinuses – I really can’t �
� but as it happens I do actually think some sort of feedback on our process might be quite useful as a means of improvement, perhaps.
DOC SWAIN. Skylights, we ain’t got the time for this, they’re getting away.
SKYLIGHTS. Feedback? I’d like to see you tell the red-eyed, yellow-toothed, evil old –
Lightning and thunder strikes, the ghastly, deadly sound of a sharpened hook being pulled from its scabbard – and, flash! The figure of CAPTAIN HOOK is among us.
HOOK. Did someone say old?
The men cower – terrified of their captain. HOOK approaches with his loyal bosun, SMEE, scuttling after him.
SKYLIGHTS. N-n-n-no, I said – um – c-cold and cruel – is what I said – i-in the best possible w-way, mind.
HOOK. Tell me, Skylights. How do you know when a captain is past it? Hm?
SKYLIGHTS. His – um – uh – maybe a bit slower – maybe and – you know – take their eye off the ball – nothing – nothing that anyone could accuse you of, sir, Captain, sir.
HOOK. I’ve often heard of buccaneers in their latter years starting to feel compassion for the plight of their fellow man. Have you heard that?
SKYLIGHTS. Y-yes?
HOOK. After all that time at sea – with their men by their side – they come to an understanding of basic human weakness. We’re all fallible after all – aren’t we, Skylights?
SKYLIGHTS. Yes.
HOOK. So as one ages one must become more forgiving – of little slips – of tiny little lapses in loyalty – mustn’t one?
HOOK gives SKYLIGHTS a compassionate nudge on the chin.
SKYLIGHTS. Oh yes! Yes!
HOOK. Shame I’m still so young.
HOOK turns SKYLIGHTS upstage and draws his hook across his throat. SKYLIGHTS falls to the floor dead. Beat. SMEE comes and wipes HOOK’s hook clean for him.
SMEE. Oh, well done, Captain – lovely work, expert.
HOOK. Now, Martin – what was it that you were saying about feedback?
MARTIN. N-n-n-nothing.
HOOK. Come come, I’m all ears. I for one would love to know why my pack of pirates is so horribly incompetent.
MARTIN. Maybe we could do a questionnaire?
HOOK stamps and lets out guttural shout at MARTIN. MARTIN squeals and falls back onto the dead body of SKYLIGHTS, which makes him scream again.
HOOK. Where are the heads of Lost Boys that you promised me? They are children – you are pirates.
MURT. It’s like they’re invisible, Captain.
HOOK. It might be ‘like’ they are invisible, Murt – but crucially they are not invisible. They are fully fleshed little human children that should be very easy for anyone with half a brain to catch.
MARTIN. Maybe they’re just very good at hiding.
MARTIN sneezes and HOOK turns on him – grabs him – and is about to strike him.
We’re going to find them – we are.
HOOK. THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING STANDING AROUND GOSSIPING LIKE OLD LADIES?
HOOK throws MARTIN to the floor.
FIND ME PETER PAN!
PIRATES exit. SMEE quickly scuttles to his master’s aid.
SMEE. Good show, Captain, very leadery leadering there I thought.
HOOK. It’s almost dusk.
SMEE. Aye, Captain.
HOOK. Look at me, Smee.
SMEE. I’m always looking at you, Captain.
HOOK. I’m the greatest pirate the world has ever seen.
SMEE. Oh yes, oh yes.
HOOK. So why don’t I have Peter Pan’s head on a spike?
SMEE. Oh, we will – we will and we’ll have a little party, Captain. You know – shabby-chic, erect a yurt.
HOOK. A what?
SMEE. A yurt. Jam jars and gin and tonics. Mint juleps. I tell a lie – how about strawberry daiquiris? Little umbrellas – maybe with Pan’s face on them – (Imitates.) now he’s there – now he’s gone. Now you see him, now you don’t. Something summery. What do you think?
HOOK slaps SMEE across the face.
Lovely, Captain. Lovely.
HOOK. I’m going to kill you, Peter Pan – and when I do, people will remember my name: Captain James Hook – the pirate that killed childhood. And you – Peter – Peter who?
No one will love you, Peter, no one will care – no one will whisper your name in their prayers.
No one will tell your story ever again.
HOOK laughs, delighted, then stops – spotting the children in the audience. He eyeballs them.
I can see you, out there – the whites of your eyes sparkling in the dark. I can hear you breathing… well, here I come, children… here I come – Captain Hook is going to get you.
The CROCODILE enters.
SMEE. Captain? Captain – the – the c-crocodile. Captain? Come on!
SMEE exits.
HOOK turns to face the CROCODILE.
HOOK. Back for the rest of me?
The CROCODILE creaks and bends and snaps its jaws and goes chasing after HOOK.
Not this time – not ever!
HOOK exits, pursued by CROCODILE.
Scene Three
TOOTLES enters, carrying his bow and arrow – desperately chasing after the CROCODILE.
TOOTLES (with his eyes closed). I can shoot the crocodile – I know I can if only I’m – (Opens his eyes and the CROCODILE has gone. Gives up, downcast.) brave. (Stops suddenly and stares at the forest floor, where SKYLIGHTS has been despatched.) There’s… (Tests it.) blood on the ground. Boys? Boys! What if they’ve been taken – what if it’s my fault – what if –
TINK appears – as a small, bright light.
Tink! You’re back! Have you seen the boys? Did you see what happened – there’s blood! Look – there’s – a bird? No – listen – Peter wants me to shoot a bird? Where? It’s a very big white bird. No, but really I have to find the boys – ‘brave’? Peter said I was brave? I have to shoot it because I’m the bravest? Me?
TOOTLES looks up – then aims his bow and arrow up at the sky.
You’re right – you’re right, Tink. If Peter wants it doing then I’m the man for the job.
TOOTLES aims his arrow at the bird. TOOTLES shoots – the arrow soars high. TINK’s light flies off.
I hit it! I hit it, Tink! I hit the bird! Go and tell Peter, Tink – tell Peter I hit the bird! I am the bravest! Tell Peter, tell Peter I hit the /
WENDY comes tumbling to the ground and lands in a heap. TOOTLES looks at her.
Tink? This doesn’t look like a bird. Tink? Where have you gone?
TOOTLES goes close to WENDY and inspects her.
I think I might have made a mistake.
Pause. TOOTLES steps back in horror – then covers the bird up as best as he can.
NIBS, CURLY and SLIGHTLY enter.
NIBS. Tootles!
TOOTLES. Boys! You’re all right, I thought there’d been a skirmish – there was blood on the floor.
CURLY. Where?
TOOTLES steps in front of WENDY.
TOOTLES. Oh – nowhere.
NIBS. Tootles, what’s that?
TOOTLES, again, tries to stand in front of WENDY.
TOOTLES. What’s what?
NIBS. That.
TOOTLES. What are you talking about?
CURLY. Tootles, why are you standing in front of something trying to pretend it’s not there when it’s really big and white and we can all see it?
CURLY rounds TOOTLES and takes the cover off WENDY’s face.
TOOTLES. It’s a white bird – it’s a big white bird – that’s all it is – Tink said that Peter said that I should shoot it and I did – I shot it and hit it because I’m brave, okay – so there.
All the LOST BOYS peer at it.
You should cheer like you do when Nibs hits a bird, go on – cheer.
SLIGHTLY. This isn’t a bird.
CURLY. It’s a lady.
TOOTLES. No. No it’s not – how do you know?
SLIGHTLY. The long mane and the squishy face.
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CURLY. She looks exactly like she might say – ‘Curly, it’s naptime – how about a little crumpet and a snooze?’
NIBS. Peter brought us a mother.
CURLY. And you shot it.
TOOTLES. No – don’t say that, that’s not true… is it?
A crowing in the sky, jubilant and excited – PETER is home.
Peter?
CURLY. Peter’s home.
NIBS. Into formation ready for inspection.
TOOTLES. Hide it, please – please help me hide it!
The LOST BOYS form a line to try and hide WENDY.
PETER arrives.
PETER. What’s the report, Nibs?
NIBS. Pirate fighting underway but no sightings just yet.
PETER. How’s it been without me? Terrible? Awful? No fun I’d imagine? Right?
CURLY. Really horrid.
SLIGHTLY. Not very nice at all.
PETER spots WENDY. He goes to take the sheet off her face. The LOST BOYS wince.
PETER. Wendy? Wendy, it’s you! You met her already? Why didn’t you say? Wake up, Wendy – it’s me, it’s Peter – you’ve arrived you’re in Never–
She isn’t moving.
Wendy? (Shakes her.) Wendy? Why is she sleeping?
TOOTLES. She’s… dead.
PETER stands up, backs off.
PETER. Let’s go and have a game of bubble ball. Last one to the lagoon is a loser.
SLIGHTLY. Peter?
NIBS. We can’t just –
CURLY. We should be sad and sorry.
PETER (spots an arrow next to WENDY). Whose arrow is this?
TOOTLES. It’s mine. I shot the Wendy bird – but Tink told me to I –
PETER, in a rage, picks up the arrow and is about to plunge it into TOOTLES’ chest. TOOTLES takes it very bravely.
WENDY. No!
NIBS. Someone said no.
PETER. Hello, Wendy.
WENDY. Hello, Peter.
PETER. The arrow didn’t hit you, it hit my kiss – my kiss saved your life! My kiss saved her life!
LOST BOYS. She’s alive!
WENDY. Where am I?
CURLY. Slightly, what’s a kiss?
NIBS. You’re in Neverland.
SLIGHTLY looks at the button around WENDY’s neck.
SLIGHTLY. Yes I remember, quite well now – I could do kisses very well from a young age. I used to kiss my trousers before I went to school.
WENDY. Are you the Lost Boys?
SLIGHTLY. I am Slightly Soiled – it said so on the label on my bag when I arrived – and because I am a well-educated young man I deduced that thusly I am of the Soiled family – the last, no doubt, in a long line of impressive Soils. So as I am the only proper gentleman I should like to shake hands.
