All children, except one, grow up.
Wendy understood this by the time she was two years old. This is how Wendy knew: one day while she played in the garden, she picked a flower and ran to show it to her mother. At that time, she must have looked lovely, because Mrs. Darling put a hand to her heart and exclaimed, “Oh, why can’t you remain like this forever!” This was all that was said on the matter, but at that moment Wendy understood that she would grow up. All two year-olds learn this. Two is the beginning of the end.
The Darling family lived at number 14 and before Wendy was born, mother was the most important person in the home. She was a lovely woman with a sweet, mocking mouth with a kiss that Wendy never managed to get, although it was visible to all, right there in the corner of her mouth. Wendy thought that Napoleon could get it, but I’m sure that despite his efforts, even he would have failed and left slamming the door. Mr. Darling was one of those serious men that understand titles and shares. Truthfully, nobody understands these things, but he seemed to grasp them.
This is how Mr. Darling won over his wife: many young gentlemen who were boys when she was a girl, simultaneously fell in love with her and ran to her house to propose. All except Mr. Darling, who got into a car and arrived first, thus winning her heart.
After a few years, the children entered the family: Wendy came first, then John then Michael. For a couple of weeks after Wendy was born, the Darlings weren’t sure whether to keep her as she was another mouth to feed.
Mr. Darling was terribly proud of his daughter, but he was also a very sensible man.
He sat on the edge of Mrs. Darling’s bed and, while she looked at him imploringly, he held her hand and did a few calculations. His wife was prepared to take a risk, whatever the cost, but this wasn’t how Mr. Darling thought.
He reasoned with numbers, he did his calculations using a pencil and a sheet of paper, and whenever his wife distracted him with her advice, he became confused and had to start all over again. “Stop interrupting,” he implored. “On me, I have a pound and seventeen shillings, and two pounds and six shillings at the office. Don’t distract me dear... Did I say nine pounds, nine shillings and seven pence? The question is: can we manage a full year with nine pounds, nine shillings and seven pence?”
“Sure we can, George!” Mrs. Darling exclaimed. Of course, she was always on Wendy’s side. The same racket took place when John and Michael were born, Michael only
During that particular night, the children were in bed. Nana had the evening off and Mrs. Darling had bathed them and sung lullabies until, one at a time, they let go of her hand and drifted to sleep.
The three children’s faces were calm and relaxed; with peace of mind, Mrs. Darling smiled at her own fears and sat sewing by the fire.
She had a job to complete for Michael, who for his birthday would receive his first men’s shirt. Suddenly, the sowing slid into her lap and her head began bobbing gracefully; Mrs. Darling had fallen asleep.
That night, Mrs. Darling and the children dreamed of the island of Never Land.
Have you ever seen a map of a person’s mind? There are lines that zigzag like those on a temperature chart, and probably these are the very roads that lead to Never Land, because the island of Never Land is a place dotted with incredible color, coral reefs and offshore pirate ships, isolated hiding places in the wild, caves through which rivers run, princes with six older brothers, a decaying hut and a tiny old lady with a hook nose. That night Mrs. Darling dreamt that the island of Never Land had come too close in the children’s dreams, and the strange boy that Wendy mentioned, emerged from it. Mrs. Darling wasn’t afraid because she remembered seeing him in the faces of the many childless women.
Maybe he can also be seen in the faces of some mothers. In her dream, the boy had pierced the veil that hides the island of Never Land, and Mrs. Darling could see Wendy, John and Michael peaking through the opening.
The dream itself was of no consequence, but as she dreamed, the bedroom window flew open and a young boy landed on the floor. Behind him was a strange light that was no bigger than a fist and which darted across the room like a living thing. I think it was the light that awakened her.
Mrs. Darling awoke with a cry; she saw the boy and realized immediately that it was Peter Pan. If you or I or Wendy had been there, we would have noticed that Peter looked like the kiss in the corner of Mrs. Darling’s mouth.
He was a marvelous boy, dressed in dry leaves and tree sap. But the most surprising thing was that he had all his milk teeth. When Peter realized he was before a grown-up, he unveiled his small pearls with a sneer.
Mrs. Darling shrieked and, as if by the ring of a bell, the door opened and Nana walked in returning from her evening walk.
With a snarl she leaped on the boy, who nimbly flew out the window. Mrs. Darling screamed again, this time for fear that the boy may have fallen. She quickly ran down to the road, searching for the small body, but he wasn’t there. She looked up and, through the dark night, saw what she thought was a shooting star.
Do you think that as time went by, Wendy missed her parents?
That is a difficult question to answer, because in Never Land it’s almost impossible to keep track of time. She was certain that they would always leave the window open for her so she could come back, and that made her feel safe.
Adventure was at the order of the day: to describe them all we would require a book as thick as a Latin dictionary. Although It isn’t easy to decide which one to tell, the best we can do is offer an example of a typical hour in Never Land. Perhaps it would be best to tell of the time in which Peter saved Tiger Lily’s life on Marooners’ Rock, thus gaining an ally.
Or we could tell of the time the pirates prepared a cake to poison the children, and how they kept leaving it in one place or another, but Wendy always succeeded in tearing it from the children’s hands until, with the passing of time, the cake became hard as marble and was eventually used as a rocket, and one night, Hook even tripped over it.
Or we could tell you about Peter’s feathered friends, like the Never Bird that builds its nest on a tree overlooking Mermaids’ Lagoon. Once the nest fell into the water, but the Never Bird continued to sit on the eggs so Peter ordered that no one should disturb it. It’s a good story and the end shows how grateful a bird can be... But if we choose this story, we need to tell the whole history of Mermaids’ Lagoon, which means telling two
stories instead of one. A shorter and equally exciting adventure, is the one in which, with the help of some fairies, Tinker Bell kidnaps Wendy in her sleep and sends her to the mainland on a large floating leaf. Fortunately, the leaf broke, and Wendy woke up and swam ashore. We could opt for Peter challenging the lions; he drew a circle around him with an arrow, then dared the beasts to cross it. He, Wendy and the other children looked on with bated breath, waiting for hours, but no lion dared to accept the challenge. Which one of these adventures shall we choose? Surely, the best thing to do is flip a coin. That’s it! Mermaids’ Lagoon has won.
In summer, the children spent many hours swimming and playing hide-and-seek at Mermaids’ Lagoon where the sirens loved to sunbathe and brush their hair. But one day something happened. The sun disappeared and sinister shadows appeared on the water’s surface.
Peter jumped to his feet and with a sly smile, called, “Pirates! Get in the water!” In a split second Mermaids’ Lagoon was empty. A pirate’s rowboat approached. In it were Mr. Smee, Starkey and a prisoner: Tiger Lily! Her hands and ankles were bound; she was being taken to drown on Marooners’ Rock. For a member of her tribe there could not be a more terrible fate, yet her face was impassive: she was the daughter of the chief and as such she would die.
Nearby, out of view, were Wendy and Peter. He was annoyed to see they were two against one and decided to rescue the Native. The easiest way would have been to wait for the pirates to leave, but Peter was not the kind of person to choose the simplest solution, and since there was practically nothing that he couldn’t do, he imitated Hook’s voice.
“Ahoy, you, louts!” he called in perfect imitation.
“The Captain,” the two pirates said, looking at one another, “We’re leaving the Native on the rock,” Mr. Smee shouted.
“Release her immediately! Do you understand?” Peter called, “Or I’ll skewer you with my hook.”
“Yes, sir!” said Mr. Smee. He freed Tiger Lily who slid into the water and swam away.
A moment later, the angry voice of the real Hook, was heard. He was swimming toward the rowboat in Mermaids’ Lagoon. “The game’s up,” he cried, “The boys have found a mother.”
The plump boy needed a tree shaft wide enough for a grown man and poor Slightly, instead of losing weight to fit inside the tree, he secretly shaved the opening. Satisfied by the discovery, Hook merely nodded, ordering that the prisoners be taken on board the Jolly Roger, and that he be left alone.
That night, when Hook was alone, he tip-toed towards Slightly’s tree to check if he could fit into it. The small underground house appeared empty; was Slightly waiting for him, dagger in hand, at the bottom of the shaft?
The only way to find out was to climb inside; Hook silently slid into the unknown. He made it to the bottom of the shaft and stopped in his tracks, seeing Peter deep asleep.
Unaware of the tragedy that had taken place after the children’s departure, Peter had continued to happily play his pipes, then he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. And so it was that while he was defenseless, Hook ambushed him. What annoyed Hook the most was Peter’s irreverence: his open mouth, the dangling arm, the bent knee; he was the personification of cocky. Hook’s heart hardened. On a nearby shelf he noticed a cup of tea that Wendy had prepared for Peter; he realized the sleeper was at his mercy.
Because Hook feared being captured alive, he always carried on him a deadly poison that he had concocted himself: he poured five drops into Peter’s cup and gazed at his victim with great satisfaction. With great effort, he pulled himself back up and out of the tree, then slinked into the forest all the while muttering to himself. Peter continued to sleep until, according to the crocodile’s clock, it was almost ten; then he suddenly jumped out of bed, awoken by he didn’t quite know what. Someone was knocking gently at the door. Peter fumbled for his dagger then clasped it firmly in his hand.
“Who’s there?” he said. No answer. The knocking resumed. “Who are you?” Silence. Peter was thrilled, he liked feeling thrilled. With two large strides he reached the door.
“Peter, let me in,” at last a high-pitched voice tinkled.
“Seventeen!” Slightly cheered. In actual fact, that night fifteen pirates paid the wages of their wrongdoings. Two successfully reached the shore: Gentleman Starkey, who was captured by the Natives and forced to be their children’s nanny; and Mr. Smee, who travelled the world making a living telling stories about how, in his life, Hook had feared only him. At three in the morning the children got out of bed because Peter had called a meeting. He gave a short speech: if they mutinied he would tear them to shreds! He ordered to turn the ship and point it toward the island, meanwhile Wendy used Mr. Smee’s sewing machine to sow Peter a captain’s uniform made with Hook’s clothes. Now let us return to the sad home from which three of our friends flew away. Let’s venture into the children’s room, because its occupants are about to return.
After giving much thought to the children’s disappearance, sad Mr. Darling crawled inside the kennel and, whenever his wife asked him to come out he replied, “No, my dear. This is the place I deserve.” In anguish and remorse, he swore to remain in the kennel until the children’s return. Every day the kennel was lifted onto a carriage, so that Mr. Darling could reach the office and, in the same way, return home at six.
On that fateful Thursday evening, Mrs. Darling waited sadly in the children’s room for her husband to come home. Watch her in the chair where she has fallen asleep: the eyes immediately go to the corner of her mouth, now faded, her hand moves restlessly on her chest as if she were in pain. When Mr. Darling arrived, his face looked more tired than usual, though he appeared less hard. “Would you play me a lullaby on the children’s piano, to help me fall asleep?” he asked. When Mrs. Darling stood up, he added, “Close the window. I’m cold.”
“Oh, George, please don’t ask me to do that. The window must always be open, always!” She played something on the piano and he fell asleep immediately. While he was sleeping, Peter and Tinker Bell flew into the room.
“Tinker Bell, quick,” Peter whispered. “Close the window. Lock it! That’s right. Wendy will think that her mother closed the window and she’ll come back to me.”
Now we know why Peter, after exterminating the pirates didn’t return to Never Land nor
