Sister Maddie screamed as Peter stood smirking, blood dripping from a small knife clasped firmly in his hand. The officer writhed in pain as blood pooled in the crevices of the uneven hallway floor.
“Peter, what have you done?” cried Sister Maddie.
“Quiet!” screamed Peter. He sprang forward and grabbed Wendy by the wrist. She tried to pull away, but Peter placed the knife close to her side with his free hand.
“Don't move an inch, Wendy-lady,” taunted Peter, “or I'll run you straight through.”
Wendy heard the familiar sound of the library doors opening. Peter spun around, and Wendy along with him. They faced James, who had stepped into the hallway.
“What in God's name are you doing, Peter?” he asked, his eyes bloodshot and his voice thin.
“So happy you could join us, James!” said Peter, smiling. “It is curious that you didn’t come to see what was going on while this bumbling idiot of a man was preparing to arrest me, but you would come to save your dear Wendy!”
James walked slowly towards them. Sister Maddie pressed herself against the wall, staring down at the stricken officer.
“Not too close, James. You wouldn’t want the Wendy-lady to get hurt.” Peter pressed the knife a bit closer into Wendy's side. She inhaled quickly, and James stopped.
“This is between you and me, Peter. Leave her out of it!” said James, his voice a bit stronger now.
“No!” shouted Peter. “Nothing has been between you and me for a very long time, James! You're far too busy for me.”
“I have always been there for you, Peter! Always! You cannot deny that!” James shouted back.
“Can’t I? Nothing is the same as it was. Look at you! You're running towards growing up with your arms wide open! You cannot wait for the day that happens! Do you know how hard it has been for me to listen to your incessant babbling about growing up? I can’t stand it!”
“Peter, I know what you desire, but what I want has changed. What I want is here! I don't need to seek forever in a far-off place to be happy.” James looked at Wendy.
“You are missing the entire point! You want to grow up? Go! Do it! I couldn’t care less. Do whatever you wish. You don’t belong in Neverland, and I don’t want you there!” Peter began to walk backwards, still holding firmly to Wendy.
“Let her go!” shouted James, who had resumed his forward approach.
Peter backed up and kicked the rear door open. A burst of cool night air whipped through the hallway.
“Do not follow me, James. Do not do it, or she will pay dearly.” Peter stepped outside, pulling Wendy with him and slamming the door quickly.
While holding the knife on Wendy, Peter pushed a small board under the outside handle of the door. She could hear James screaming her name as he pounded on the door from the inside.
“Move!” grunted Peter. He shepherded her down the dark pathway and across the open meadow behind St. Catherine's.
“Where are you taking me?” shouted Wendy.
“Keep moving,” growled Peter. He pressed the knife into the small of her back, prodding her forward at a quick pace until they came to the edge of the forest.
“I'm not going in there!” screamed Wendy. She began to shake uncontrollably.
“You will go where I tell you!” With that, Peter put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. The call rang out, piercing the air. Wendy clasped her hands over her ears. From the edge of the forest, several of the young boys who always followed Peter around faithfully, emerged from the tree line. There were easily a dozen of them, Michael and John among them.
“Oh, thank goodness you are all right!” said Wendy, looking at her brothers.
“Shut your trap!” snapped Peter. “John and Michael are loyal to me now, Wendy. If you wish to keep them unharmed, you will do as I say.”
“Loyal? To you, Peter? Nonsense,” said Wendy. But as John and Michael approached her, she saw that it was indeed true. Their eyes were downcast, and John had in his hand a length of rope.
“Secure her,” ordered Peter.
John wound the rope around Wendy's wrists, knotting it tightly.
“Brother? You would do this to me?” asked Wendy, sobbing.
“Please, Wendy,” he said. “Peter has promised us something wonderful. You will see.”
“I don't want to see! I want you to let me go! Let me go this instant!” she screamed.
“I'm the only one giving orders around here!” barked Peter. “And if you all know what is good for you, you will do as I say. Is that in any way unclear?”
Silence.
Peter marched the troop of boys and their prisoner into the woods. Wendy stumbled in the darkness, tripping on tree roots and trying desperately to avoid the many thorny bushes that pawed at her ankles as the group of misfit boys pulled her through the underbrush at a breakneck pace.
After a short while, they arrived at the base of a great tree whose branches blotted out the moonlight.
“Everyone inside!” shouted Peter.
Each member of the party pushed through a small opening, and when it was Wendy's turn, she ducked low and entered the tree hollow, not knowing if she would ever reemerge.
CHAPTER 12
GONE
James
James slammed his fist against the wooden door.
“Wendy! Wendy!” he screamed.
Sister Maddie pushed down on the door's handle, but it would not budge.
“He's secured it somehow!” she said frantically. “Go around and try to get out of the side door.”
James ran as fast as he could down the darkened corridor, slamming the full weight of his body into the side door. He stumbled out into the night air and looked around. He thought that Peter must have gone down towards the tree line, and if that was the case, he knew where he would find him. James ran down the hill and was sprinting towards the forest when he heard his name.
“James!” It was Sister Maddie, calling to him from the top of the hill. He strained to hear her. “James! He's taken the boys!”
James stood still for a short moment. If Peter had taken Wendy and several boys with him, what was he planning? There was no time. He turned and sprinted into the woods. He knew the way and so navigated the treacherous pathway with ease.
Running, measuring his breaths so that he would not tire too quickly, he approached the clearing then slowed and crouched low to the ground. He saw a dim light emanating from the hollow. They were inside. The darkness surrounding him was complete.
James wished he had fashioned some sort of weapon. Peter had shown that he was willing to use one, and so James thought he should be prepared to do the same. Visions of the constable crumpled on the floor flooded his mind. As he scanned the forest floor for a rock or sharp stick, he noticed a dazzling light hovering in the branches above the hollow.
It flickered and zipped from one spot to the next so quickly, James had trouble tracking it. It hovered just above the hollow's entrance, and then it reversed course and made a beeline straight towards him. He ducked down, and it flew over his head. He spun around and saw that the little light had perched itself on a moss-covered log, its luminescence dimmed to a low glow. He saw the outline of a familiar figure. It was the fairy from O'Malley's tent, the same one who, after escaping her glass prison, had tried to save him by tossing a clock into the alligator’s throat. Her long red hair was almost transparent. She smiled.
“You,” James whispered. “You're here. What are you doing here?”
She fluttered upwards and hovered just in front of his face then dove down and landed weightlessly on his right wrist. Her face was sad, and she rose up again, quickly kissing him on the cheek. He looked down at his arm where his hand should have been.
“It’s all right,” he said. “It barely even hurts anymore.”
She hovered in front of him. Her tiny eyes were dark, and she appeared to be studying him closely. James looked back over his shoulder at the hollow. The light was still bu
rning from within.
“Can you help me?” he asked the tiny fairy. “Someone I care very much about is in there.” He pointed to the tree.
The fairy looked down solemnly, then she flitted back and forth, as if she were thinking about what to do. She seemed to understand everything James was saying, though she gave no indication that she herself could speak.
What are they up to in there? he wondered. Surely the officer who Peter had assaulted was in a bad way, if he wasn't dead already. Peter must know that people would come looking for him soon enough.
The fairy danced and fluttered. Her eyes were wide, and she motioned with her tiny arm for him to follow her. She flew upwards as James rose to his feet. She motioned for him to tread lightly, softly patting the air with her outstretched hand. He followed her around the edge of the clearing until they were as close to the great tree as they could get without stepping out in to the open.
The red-headed fairy motioned for him to look up. In the darkness, it took him a moment to realize what she was pointing to. The top of the great tree rose up, its branches intertwined with the branches of the trees surrounding the clearing so that their limbs locked tightly together overhead. He saw that small puffs of smoke were billowing out of an opening near the top of the tree, and the smoke was tinted orange by what James could only assume was a fire of some sort. He and Peter had never lit a fire within the hollow. It seemed a dangerous thing to do.
He knew storming through the front entrance was out of the question, but if smoke was escaping from the top of the tree, perhaps he could find a way in from up there. The fairy seemed to agree wholeheartedly. She buzzed about, showering him with an avalanche of glowing dust.
“Wait! What are you doing?” asked James in a hushed sort of yell. He dusted himself off, patting his arms and legs furiously.
The fairy flew up and landed right on the tip of his nose. He struggled to keep from going cross-eyed as he looked at her. Her expression caught him completely off guard. He expected to see her scowling, silently scolding him for brushing off her shimmering dust, but she was grinning. A row of shiny, almost microscopic white teeth poked out from behind her lips. With both hands, she pointed to the apples of her rosy cheeks.
James laughed in spite of himself. He felt a shudder run through him; a shock, like a bolt of static electricity, coursed through his veins. He was floating!
He inhaled sharply and held his breath. As he looked at his tiny winged companion, she appeared to be laughing. Her eyes were closed into small slits, and her arm was pressed tightly across her waist. The only sound emanating from her was a barely-audible chorus of tinkling bells. James laughed again and shot upwards, crashing into the canopy of branches.
Oh no, he thought. He was sure the ruckus would draw Peter and the other boys out of the hollow to see what had caused it. He hovered silently among the branches. The fairy motioned for him to stay calm. She circled him once again, showering him with more glowing dust. Then she smiled and pointed to her cheeks.
James realized that the laughter had caused him to shoot skyward, almost propelling him into the stratosphere! He tried it again, this time choosing a low giggle.
Nothing. He paused for a moment and then laughed again.
Still, nothing.
“Is there a trick to it?” he asked.
The fairy shook her head. She fluttered close to him and tapped his right temple with her tiny hand and then repeated the gesture on her own temple while closing her eyes and smiling.
James took this to mean that the laughter itself was not enough. He had to think of something that would make him laugh. He had to think of something... happy.
When he thought of happiness, the only thing that came to his mind was Wendy's beautiful face. He held that image in his mind's eye and felt the electricity pulse through him. The fairy fluttered happily. James floated forward and, being sure to conceal himself in the tree tops, glided towards the opening where the puffs of smoke were now thick and white. He steadied himself by holding on to the branches with his left hand. He realized that there would have been no way for him to accomplish this without the help of his new winged friend.
“Thank you,” he whispered. She encircled him again and kissed him gently on the cheek.
He approached the opening near the top of the tree. The smoke billowed out as he held his breath and peered inside.
The branches were twisted and thick, winding and intertwining like a mass of snakes. He leaned forward, trying to see what was going on inside. He heard Peter's familiar voice echoing up through the branches.
“There is no going back!” Peter snapped from below. “We are going to a place where we will never be told what to do! Never be told we are not old enough or big enough or good enough!”
A chorus of cheers and clapping went up and then died away as quickly as it had begun. James was leaning so far into the hole that he nearly fell in. He steadied himself just as the occupants of the hollow came into view.
Peter was standing with his back to the door. A dozen boys were scattered about the hollow, each of their faces trained on Peter. They were hanging on his every word.
“Of course,” Peter continued, “there are things we cannot be expected to do by ourselves. We will need someone to cook and clean and tend to us if we are sick. That is where she will come in quite handy.”
Peter pointed towards the corner of the room, and when James followed his gaze, he saw Wendy, bound at the wrists and with some type of scarf around her mouth. She sat in a chair flanked by two of the older boys from the orphanage. Her eyes were like daggers.
“Oh, mother Wendy!” cried Peter. “What a good nanny you will make!”
Laughter and cheers rose up again.
James lifted his leg, which was still dangling outside, and prepared to go straight down and pummel Peter into the ground. But before he could act, his fairy friend flitted close to him, pulling his collar with a surprising amount of force. She shook her head furiously. James pulled himself back out through the smoke and took several deep breaths of the cool night air.
“Do you know how to get to Neverland?” he asked the fairy.
She nodded.
“That's where he will take her if we don't—”James stopped. A thunderous sound was rumbling from within the hollow. Stomping, clapping, cheering, infused with the unmistakable sound of Peter's Pan flute. The notes climbed higher and higher.
The fairy clasped her hands tightly over her ears, her eyes wide. She seemed to glow from within.
“What’s wrong?” asked James. The noise from the hollow grew deafening. The notes from the flute came fast and wound into a dark, dancing melody.
The fairy shook her head, her eyes closed. She seemed to be swaying in time with the clapping and stomping.
Clapping, singing, dancing. Peter's mother's words echoed in James’s head. This is how the fairies were drawn in. That is what Peter was doing at this very moment.
James reached out and tried to grab the sprite, but before he could capture her, she darted upwards and disappeared into the same opening through which James had been spying on Peter.
James turned and shot in after her. He saw her dive downwards in a bright streak, and, to his horror, she began to dance in the air as if she were in some kind of trance. He struggled to fit his six-foot frame through the maze of branches.
Peter was playing his flute, and when the fairy danced, he laughed and played the music louder. The boys rose to their feet, and the two boys guarding Wendy forced her to stand as well. They pushed her forwards until they were all standing very close to the sprite.
“Peter!” screamed James. “Peter, stop!”
Peter glanced up, but he did not stop playing. The boys clapped furiously, and the fairy's light shone like the sun.
James twisted and turned, trying to work his way downward. Wendy caught sight of him and made a quick turn towards the door, which was blocked by the older boys. She turned back, pushing the scarf away from he
r mouth with her shoulder.
“James!” she screamed.
James looked at Peter, and he lowered his flute. Peter leaned in towards the fairy and spoke. “Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.”
A burst of white light engulfed the hollow. James threw up his hand and right forearm to shield himself from the intensity of it. A loud pop broke through the sound of clapping and stomping, and then, there was only silence.
James was panting, and his heartbeat echoed in his ears. He lowered his arms and saw to his utter disbelief that he was the only one still inside the hollow. The others had vanished, and their departure had snuffed out the small fire they had set in the middle of the floor.
James kicked wildly and was finally able to squeeze through the branches. He fell headlong onto the floor, knocking the wind violently out of his chest. He gasped for air as he stumbled to his feet. He ran out of the doorway and looked around frantically.
“Wendy!” he screamed. “Wendy, please, where are you?”
Only the sounds of insects and owls answered him. They were gone. He was standing alone, and he had no way of pursuing them, no way to give chase. They had vanished as if into thin air, and James was alone.
CHAPTER 13
TIME GONE BY
10 years later
James sat with his head bowed low. His dark hair, now flecked with prematurely-gray streaks, hung like a curtain around his face, strands caught in the scruff of two weeks' growth of beard. He looked down at the dirt floor of the hollow. This is where it had happened. Where they had vanished. Where Peter took Wendy and the others away. Seeing Wendy's face in his mind made him wince. It pained him physically to remember her. Each day for the past ten years, James had come to the hollow to sit and think, to remember and to grieve.
Six Points of Light:Hook's Origin Page 12
