Six Points of Light:Hook's Origin

by Kalynn Bayron

  Caleb and the other boys retreated up the hill, and within minutes Sister Maddie was at his side.

  James knew in that moment that he had never really known what betrayal felt like. For a long time, he thought he’d felt betrayed by his mother, who had abandoned him, but he’d come to look on that as a blessing. After all, he had Sister Maddie, and being at St. Catherine's was not such a terrible thing. He had once thought he’d felt betrayal when Sister Maddie seemed to give all of her time and attention to Peter upon his arrival, but he knew that it was simply her kind nature that kept her from him during that time. No, he had never experienced real betrayal until this very moment, and it was crushing him. Peter had been his brother when there had been no one else, and he loved him as if they were blood. He’d trusted him and paid the price of their friendship in loyalty and in empathy. James had been a slave to that feeling, to that connection, however tremulous it was at times, and now he realized that it was all a lie. James opened his mouth and cried aloud, screaming into the open air. As the sound left him, so did any hope that all of this may have been some terrible dream.

  Wendy and Sister Maddie all but carried James to the library and sat him in front of the fireplace. He did not move other than to wipe the endless stream of tears from his face. He stared blankly into the fireplace, watching the flames dance. Wendy stayed by his side, stroking his hand and waiting. Waiting for him to give her some sign that he would find his way out of the pit he had fallen into.

  James closed his eyes. He thought back to that terrible night. Someone had been outside O’Malley’s tent, and now he knew that it had been Peter. The sounds he had made as he felt his arm caught in the beast's mouth were seared into his own mind. How could Peter have heard those sounds and not come to help me?

  Why, Peter? Why?

  James recalled Peter's smiling face standing over him as he lay in his hospital bed. He’d wanted to see the wound. To admire his handiwork, perhaps?

  It cannot be! It cannot!

  James could not believe that Peter could have done such a thing. Peter was a monster. How could he not have seen this? James had thought he knew Peter better than anyone. He was wrong. No one knew this boy. No one. That mask he wore, that smile—it was a lie! Who was he? Who was this monster?

  After a long while, as the flames in the fireplace died and the embers sat charred and glowing, James stirred.

  “James, my love, please come back to me.” Wendy’s sweet voice called to him.

  “It cannot be true,” said James. “Please, Wendy, please tell me I am dreaming.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Wendy. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.” She grasped his hand firmly, showering the top of his fist with gentle kisses. She turned her face up to look at him. James looked into her eyes and knew without a doubt that he was where he belonged.

  Nothing else mattered. Not Peter, not Neverland, not even O’Malley. All of the time he’d spent looking for some faraway place seemed wasted when balanced against the things he had right in front of him. James vowed to never take those things for granted ever again. And so he let Peter go.

  It was the end of all that had been. In his despair, James understood that the only way out of that sadness was with Wendy at his side and Peter left in the dirt at the bottom of the hill.

  CHAPTER 11

  THROUGH WENDY’S EYES

  Wendy

  Upon her arrival at St. Catherine's, Wendy Darling knew that her life had been irrevocably altered, permanently and forever. Her parents had been gone for quite a long time now; the pain of their absence was something she’d lived with every day. She and her brothers Michael and John had been entrusted to the care of her mother's oldest sister. But her aunt, in her old age, was in poor health and had squandered all of the money her parents had left for their care on expensive baubles and furs.

  Wendy knew that they would be put into an orphanage, but, at seventeen, she was sure that she would collect John and Michael as soon as she was able to leave of her own accord, and they would be together, as her parents would have wished them to be.

  Sister Maddie was a saint of a woman. She saw to it that her brothers had a room together and made sure they all had three hot meals a day, which is more than Wendy could say of their aunt.

  This is only temporary. That is what Wendy told herself. It was not a forever situation. She told Sister Maddie of her plans to take John and Michael away from St. Catherine's as soon as she was able, and, in an act of kindness that touched Wendy deeply, Sister Maddie said she would see to it that John and Michael stayed at St. Catherine's until such a time as Wendy could properly care for them. Wendy saw in Sister Maddie a genuinely caring soul.

  Just a day or so after her arrival, she became quite ill and was committed to the infirmary, where Sister Maddie cared for her and made sure she was seen by a physician. Wendy lay awake for two nights, fighting the fever that seemed to cause her blood to boil, until finally it broke and washed her body in sweat. She’d felt better almost immediately and took to sitting on the edge of her bed to sip the warm broth Sister Angelica prepared for her.

  It was late when they brought him in, a young man, ghostly white, who had been attacked by some kind of animal. The doctor was concerned, and she’d had to clasp her hand over her mouth when she heard them say that a “beast” had taken his hand.

  After the doctor closed the gaping wound on his arm, the boy fell into a fitful sleep from which he could not be roused. So pale was he that he blended in very well with the white bed linens. His hair was dark, though; it fell down to his shoulders. Wendy thought it was strange that a young man would wear his hair long, but it suited him. Wendy knew she should have kept to herself, but she could not look away. She peered around the edge of the curtain that separated her cot from the rest of the room.

  The young man was tall and thin, but he looked strong. His right arm was heavily bandaged, and a low moaning sound escaped from him whenever they changed the dressings. Sister Maddie looked careworn and defeated. She never left his side. The other Sisters brought her food and drink, of which she took very little. It was plain to see that Sister Maddie loved this boy very much.

  There was a man there during those first few nights, as well. A tall man, an older man, wearing a dirty suit. He’d sat silently in the corner of the room, watching the boy in the bed, wringing his hands and then staring off into nothingness.

  One evening, the boy stirred, and Sister Maddie nearly leaped out of her chair. She spoke to him gently and tenderly. That was the night she met the boy in the bed... James. The young man with the most enchanting green eyes.

  She kept watch as the man in the corner and Sister Maddie went to fetch one thing or another. James was pale and run down from all that had happened to him, but she was sure he would pull through. Wendy wondered how it was that no one had taken this beautiful boy away from this place, although she was secretly very pleased that they had not.

  They fell into a dialogue, and Wendy felt at ease speaking with him. She saw that he was smart and shared her love of books. That night, as he lay there, having fallen asleep to the sound of her voice, she watched him sleep. Something meaningful had passed between them just before he’d drifted off, a kind of understanding that things would be all right if they were near to each other. She gently moved the hair away from his brow.

  She wondered how it could be that so much tragedy and heartache could have befallen her, only to then have something else so amazing and wonderful lift her to dizzying heights and fill her with happiness and hope. She closed her eyes and silently prayed for more of this feeling. That moment surely had to be the start of something great.

  Over the next several weeks, as James healed and as the bond between them grew, Wendy realized that her dreams of leaving that place didn’t have to be so complicated. She imagined herself working long shifts as a seamstress to make the money she would need to support John and Michael. Michael said that he would fish and hunt to keep food on the
table. Wendy hugged him and laughed. She was sure he'd never fished with anything other than a sapling in all his life. Little Michael, always wanting to help. Wendy knew it would be hard, but she was prepared to face what lay ahead. She would do whatever was necessary to keep all that was left of her family together.

  Then, after meeting James, she felt as if she had another ally in her fight to stay with the people she loved. James told her that he was unsure of how he could make a living, now that his right hand was gone, but that he would try his hardest to help her. She knew he was sincere, and it warmed her heart to see him sitting in the library, studying ship building and sail making.

  He had a love for all things nautical, and while he felt uncertain of how well he would fare as an explorer, he knew he could earn a living helping build the ships that carried those brave men to the ends of the earth.

  A man selling fruit from a pushcart came to St. Catherine's early one morning, and Sister Maddie brought him in, fed him, and gave him clean clothes. James struck up a conversation with the stranger and learned that the man had spent twenty years helping to build some of the greatest sailing vessels to ever set sail, according to him. James was fascinated, because the man was equipped with only one functioning arm.

  While his left hand was in fine working order, his right hand hung in a sling and appeared to have withered away to nothing more than skin and bone. The man told James that as a child he was stricken with a severe bout of polio that had paralyzed his arm. He hadn't used it since but had managed to make a life for himself and his family.

  Wendy saw a light in James's eyes from that point onward. He was possessed of purpose, and it made her love him all the more.

  “I think you are very brave,” Wendy said to him.

  “Brave? I'm not too sure about that,” he said humbly.

  “Well, I'm sure of it,” said Wendy.

  James smiled and squeezed her hand, and she kissed him softly on his forehead.

  “There is nothing you cannot achieve. I believe in you,” she murmured to him.

  The weeks following the accident were filled with chaos, as Sister Maddie received several visits from the local police inquiring as to the events of that horrible night when James had been hurt. Many of the performers were petty criminals, and the police were looking for someone to blame. The injuries suffered by James in particular were gruesome, and were splashed all over the local papers. St. Catherine's had seen a drop off in adoptions, and many of the children were ferried away to other orphanages. Sister Maddie had been inconsolable, but she understood how the incident looked to the outside world. Cries of neglect and recklessness came from the surrounding community, and although Wendy knew just how much Sister Maddie cared for each and every child there, it didn't make much difference.

  As the number of remaining children trickled down to only a few dozen, one of the remaining boys became quite a nuisance. Peter.

  Peter had befriended Wendy's brother John. Against Wendy's advice, John became close to Peter, and to add to it, Peter was like a brother to James. Wendy saw immediately that Peter had a way about him that drew the younger boys to him. He was charismatic and loved to tell the most fanciful stories, but there was something else there.

  “Do you find it odd that Peter is always so happy?” she asked James once. “He is always smiling, even at the most inconvenient times.”

  “Yes, that is Peter's way,” James replied. “It’s almost like a mask, Wendy. He puts on that smile to show everyone that he's okay when, inside, he’s broken. His mother died, he never knew his father, and he’s just scared.”

  “Can’t something be done? He’s very disruptive. He can’t continue to make things more difficult than they already are.”

  “We’ve done everything we could. All I could do was listen and try to be there for him, but it wasn’t enough,” James replied.

  Wendy tried to empathize. She knew how close James was to Peter, but for all of her effort, she could not do it. She felt pity, yes, but she saw how he manipulated the younger boys, saw how John worshiped him even though Peter would often scream and yell at him and the others. Wendy didn’t like it at all.

  However, as terrible as Peter's treatment of the other boys had been, they had a kind of reprieve a few weeks after James was injured, because Peter seemed to be going mad. Talking to himself and sobbing uncontrollably.

  One afternoon, Wendy had gone to find James, and he was standing on the hill, watching Peter a short ways off. Michael and Caleb and some of the other boys came, and they argued and James argued. What was revealed in that moment turned everything on its head. Wendy had thought that Peter was a brat, a liar, a cheat; but the reality was much, much worse than all of that. Peter had been responsible for James's injury. Peter had set the circus animals loose, and, at the height of the confrontation, he admitted that he wished James dead.

  James was struck as if with an open hand. As he sat in the library afterwards, staring into the fire and sobbing, Wendy did not know how to help him. The only thing she could do was to sit close to him and wait.

  How she despised Peter. How could a boy so young be filled with this kind of malice? And Wendy had more questions. Peter spoke of “Neverland” and of a plan that he and James had to go there. Had James planned to leave her? To leave St. Catherine's? Surely, James did not wish to leave her. No. Wendy knew that the lies Peter spouted were many, and this had to be one of them.

  Wendy sat on the floor by the fireplace, watching James's slow, measured breaths. When he came around, she saw a look of resolve in his eyes. He had made up his mind about the situation with Peter. She didn’t press him in that moment about what that decision would be or how it might affect her. All she wanted was to be near him.

  Just then, she thought she heard Sister Maddie's voice in the hallway. James turned towards the open door.

  “Would you like me to close that?” she asked James.

  “Yes, please,” he answered. He looked beleaguered and absolutely exhausted.

  Wendy stood and walked to the library doors. As she grasped the handles to pull them closed, she saw that Sister Maddie was in the hallway, accompanied by a policeman. Wendy stopped and listened.

  “Please, Sister, I need to have a better understanding of what happened here,” said the officer.

  “Yes, please forgive me. It's just that I cannot fully understand it, myself. The boys, Caleb and two others, have shared with me that it was Peter, one of my wards, who allowed the animals to escape. Only this very evening have they revealed this to me, and I am deeply troubled by their accusations.”

  “As you should be,” said the officer. “This is a very serious matter, as I'm sure you are aware.”

  “I am aware, fully aware, and quite frankly I am frightened, sir,” said Sister Maddie. Wendy could see that she was on the verge of tears. “Officer, please. He cannot stay. He cannot. He is a danger to everyone. God forgive me, but I fear he may do something much worse next time.”

  “He's just a child,” said the officer. “Are you sure these other boys are telling the truth? I've found that children this age tend to—how can I say it?—over-embellish.”

  “No,” said Sister Maddie firmly. “I have seen it myself. He is dangerous.”

  “Bring him to me, and let’s have a word, shall we?”

  Sister Maddie disappeared and returned a few moments later with Peter firmly in her grasp.

  “You're hurting me!” shouted Peter.

  Good, thought Wendy.

  “Have a seat here, young man,” said the officer, motioning to the wooden bench in the hallway.

  Peter flung himself onto the bench in a pathetic attempt to make it seem as if Sister Maddie had pushed him.

  “Quite the actor, aren't we?” asked the officer, giving Sister Maddie a knowing glance. Peter's face twisted into an angry pout. “Some of the other boys have made some very serious allegations against you, Peter. Do you have anything to say?”

  “I don’t know wh
at you are talking about... sir,” said Peter flatly.

  “Don’t you now? Well it seems that we have a witness who’s willing to attest to the fact that it was you, Peter, who let those wild beasts out of their cages.”

  Peter was silent.

  “Peter, how could you?” sobbed Sister Maddie. “How could you have done such a thing?”

  “It wasn't me!” snapped Peter. “No one saw me do anything. It was probably one of those other boys or maybe even that wretched girl, Wendy.”

  Wendy stepped into the hallway, loudly closing the library door behind her, and stood glaring at Peter.

  “You must be Wendy,” said the officer.

  “Yes, and I can tell you for a fact that I was nowhere near the animal enclosures that night.” Wendy stomped right up to Peter and looked down at him. “You are a liar, and a pretty bad one, at that! James almost died, and it’s all your fault!”

  Sister Maddie put her hand around Wendy's waist and pulled her away from Peter.

  “Oh, yes! You're beloved James! Oh, how sweet it is!” shouted Peter.

  “Yes, I do love him!” Wendy shouted back. “It’s a shame you haven't found someone to love you the way I love him! The only person who truly cared for you is maimed for the rest of his life because of you. He will never forgive you for that!”

  Peter jumped up and lunged at Wendy. The officer sprang into action, pushing Peter against a wall and securing his hands at the wrists.

  “Shut your miserable mouth!” screamed Peter. “Do you think I care for one minute that you love James or that he loves you? I don’t care at all, you stupid silly girl!”

  “Enough,” said the officer. He let go of one of Peter's wrists and reached for a set of gleaming manacles that were looped around his belt.

  Wendy saw the officer secure the shackles and then abruptly stop. She wondered why he didn't get on with it. She craned her neck to see what was causing the delay and saw Peter's face smiling, his lips curled into a sickening bow. His eyes were wild and darted about furiously. He quickly pulled back his hand, and the officer collapsed into a heap on the floor.