Second Star to the Right

by Mary Alice Monroe

  Faye squeezed Maddie’s hand, then gave her a nod. At the signal, Maddie sneaked into one of the rooms at the farthest end of the hall opposite Wendy’s. After a moment she rushed out of the room and called out with fear in her voice.

  “Nurse! Nurse! Please come quick. Something is wrong with my grandmother!”

  The nurse at the desk leaped to her feet and hurried down the hall to assist. Without waiting a heartbeat, Faye rushed to the nurses’ station, grabbed hold of the keys that hung on a hook behind the desk, and ran to Wendy’s room. She slipped in and quietly closing the door behind her. Not, however, before spying one little girl duck around the corner toward the stairs.

  * * *

  Back in the nursery, Tom was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He had taken his mother’s place on the window seat beside the window. His job was to keep guard should Peter arrive and need directions to Wendy. Tom had complained loudly at not being able to join them in the fun of creeping around at the hospital, but Faye assured him that his duty was at the nursery. In the end, his devotion to Wendy won him over. The clock had chimed eleven times, rousing him from near sleep, when he heard a sound at the door. His breath caught and he sat up straight. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a door sighing open and the creak of footfall on the floor.

  “Peter?” Tom called out, fear making his voice crack.

  The shadowed figure froze, reached out with his hand, and clicked on the light.

  Tom blinked and rubbed his eyes against the blaze of light. Gradually, he recognized the unshaven, droopy-lidded face of the man who stood in shock and surprise at the door.

  “Jack!” he cried out, and ran into his arms.

  Jack just had time to outstretch his arms and catch the ball of boy that catapulted into his arms and clung tight.

  “What? Tom? Is that you?” He whooped out loud and swirled the boy around in a circle, then hugged him tight, afraid to let go. “Aw, boy, let me get a good look at you.” His eyes devoured the thin face with the bright blue eyes and the shaggy blond hair that stared back at him with equal measure of happiness. “So where were you? We’ve been mad with worry and grief.”

  “I was at the Neverland!” he replied without guile. In fact, he was proud and pleased to make the announcement.

  “What? But, Tom, that’s impossible,” Jack replied with a hint of irritation.

  “All grown-ups say that,” Tom replied with a knowing nod.

  “But I just spent the last twenty-four hours scouring every bit of that park and every other park in London. If you were there, I’d like you to tell me where.”

  Tom laughed. "Not that Neverland," he said and began another telling of his adventures over the past few days while Jack grew more and more subdued.

  Jack scratched his jaw with resignation. “I suppose it’s no more strange hearing you tell me that you went off to the Neverland with Peter Pan than to hear you speak the words at all." He cocked his head. "There were Lost Boys, you say?” he asked, sounding every bit as young as Tom.

  “An even dozen, as Peter calls them,” Tom replied emulating a cocky smile that Wendy would have immediately recognized.

  “Well, you know you broke your mother’s heart with worry, don’t you? She lay awake at nights crying. I don’t suppose you gave that much thought during all your gallivanting.”

  The cockiness fled instantly. Jack was pleased to see it. “Where is your mother, by the way?”

  “She went to the hospital with Maddie. To save Wendy.”

  “At this hour? And they left you here alone?”

  “It’s all part of the plan.”

  “Tom, I’m more confused than ever. Maybe you'd better back up and tell me about the plan.”

  “Mom and Maddie went to the hospital to open Wendy’s window. Jack, Peter Pan is coming for Wendy tonight,” he explained, urgency making his voice high and his pace quicken. “They’ve got to make sure the window is open!”

  Jack’s mouth dropped open as he heard this. “Faye? Your mother went along with this plan?”

  “Went along with it? It was her plan to start with!”

  Jack whooped again and clapped his hands together, his eyes sparkling with triumph. Then he brought his one hand to his forehead in a salute, and said, “I’m off to assist in the rescue plan, sir. Steady the course here at the helm.” He gave Tom a reassuring pat, then with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, rushed out the door on his way to the hospital.

  * * *

  Faye listened at the hospital door for a moment to make sure that no one was behind her. All was quiet again, except for the complaining of the nurses in the hall wondering where that troublesome little girl went who had called for help. Faye smiled with pride that the little girl who just months before would cower instead of act had executed her daring role in the plan with such finesse.

  She turned and saw Wendy on her narrow hospital bed, her dainty hands tucked under her cheek as she slept facing the window. She could hear the raspiness of Wendy’s breathing and saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest, like a small bird caught in a cage. Clearly, her time was drawing near. Lowering her head, Faye placed a soft kiss on her cheek, and whispered, “I’ll open the window for you, Wendy. Then you can fly away.”

  After a few misses she finally found the right key to open up the thick iron window screens. Behind them, the old double-hung window was covered with dirt and grime, just the kind that Maddie often wrote Wash Me on with her fingertip. Faye climbed up onto the marble sill and unlatched the ancient brass lock. Then, climbing down again, she grabbed hold of the two brass handles and, with a mighty grunt, jerked hard.

  The window didn’t budge.

  No, this was not part of the plan! She didn’t have a contingency for ancient wooden windows that were stuck from years of swelling and a build up of dirt and grease. She had to get the window open. Panic sparked and stubbornness kindled. Taking a deep breath she pulled again with all her might. But the window didn’t give. Twice more she pulled and failed. Panting, she glanced at her watch. It was 11:40. Maddie had said Peter would likely come at midnight. She had no time to lose. She gripped the handles again and tried over and over to open the window, but to no avail. She slumped her shoulders and gave the window a nasty pound.

  “That’s a good start,” came a whispered voice behind her.

  She gasped and swung around.

  “Jack! What are you doing here?”

  “Saving the plan.”

  She took in the sight of him in his rumpled suit with his shirttails hanging out, his unshaven face, his hair a riot of curls. He hadn’t abandoned her, after all. He’d come back. And he knew about the plan!

  Smiling, she stretched up on tiptoe and gave him her kiss, the special one from deep in the heart that she’d never given to anyone else before.

  Feeling the strength of ten men, he walked over and took hold of the window’s brass handles. With a deep breath he gave a great yank, and the ancient, dirty, grimy, stubborn old window gave up the fight and rumbled up the track, opening to an unseasonably warm night. Outside, the dogs of London were howling at the full moon.

  Faye raised her hands to her mouth to smother her cry of delight. Jack reached over to swirl her around in a circle, setting her back on her feet with a grounding kiss.

  “Now, let’s get out of here,” he whispered.

  Just as they reached the door it swung open, practically nipping Jack in the nose. There stood Jane Lloyd. And she was not pleased.

  “What are you two doing here?” she asked, her voice wrathful. “And what is that window doing open? My god, haven’t you tried hard enough to kill my mother? Are you trying to finish her off?” She stomped angrily toward the window.

  “Don’t close it,” Faye cried.

  “And why shouldn’t I?”

  “Peter is coming for Wendy tonight. It must remain open.”

  “That finishes it” Jane spun around and reached for the phone. “You’re all crazy. I’m calling for th
e guard.”

  "No, you mustn't!" Faye cried, leaping for the phone.

  “Please,” came a frail voice from the bed.

  They all stopped to look over at the bed. Jane hurried to her mother’s side and took Wendy’s hand in her own.

  “I’m here, Mother.”

  “I asked her to open it,” Wendy said in a weak voice. “He’s coming for me, Jane. At last.” Joy was etched across her small, delicate features. In the glow of the moonlight Wendy’s thin, frail figure and beautiful, sweet face appeared as a child’s once again. “You remember how Peter hates a barred window, don’t you Jane?”

  Jane’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded.

  Wendy’s face flooded with relief. She cupped her daughter’s face with her small hand and gazed at Jane with a mother’s tender love. “You’re a good girl. Remember the happy times we've had together... you and I in the nursery. Good-bye, my darling child,” she said softly. “My own sweet Jane.”

  Wendy’s hand slid down, and, turning her face toward the open window, she smiled. “See the stars, Jane? How they sparkle tonight! Aren’t they the lovelies? And that one... To the right. It’s so very bright. It’s light...it’s reaching out to me. Oh, how warm the light is. Listen! Do you hear? Yes, yes, I hear the music. He’ll be coming soon! I’ve waited ever such a long time...” Wendy closed her eyes with a smile of serenity on her face.

  Jane brought her hand to her trembling lips while a long history of suppressed memories flooded the banks and rushed through her mind. Memories of herself in her mother’s lap, her head resting against Wendy’s soft bosom while her mother’s melodic voice enveloped her as warmly as her arms. Jane’s face softened as she gazed at her mother; then she bent to kiss her cheek, tuck the blanket under Wendy’s chin and tenderly smooth a few hairs from her face. She sniffed loudly and rose to a stand.

  “I think you should leave now,” she said to Faye and Jack.

  Faye’s glance consulted Jack’s with worry.

  Jane saw the exchange. “Oh, be off with you,” she said, brusquely wiping the tears from her eyes. “I won’t close the silly window. No matter what you might think, I love my mother, and it is her last wish.”

  Faye took a final glance at Wendy lying peacefully, facing the open window. Her long white hair seemed silvery in the moonlight as it spread like rippling waves upon the pillow. Her lips were turned up in a sweet smile of anticipation. Faye thought she’d never seen her look more beautiful.

  Jack stooped over Wendy to kiss her forehead and when he spoke, his voice trembled. “Good-bye, Wendy. Say hello to the Lost Boys for me.

  “Jack,” said Faye. “It’s almost twelve. Wendy must be alone, and Maddie is waiting at the front door.” Addressing Jane, she added gently, “We should all go.”

  “Yes,” Jane replied. “I understand. I’ll hurry along.”

  Jack took Faye’s hand. “Come on, Faye,” he said and led her out from the room, down the hall and to the lobby where they picked up Maddie. Then they all headed home to the old brownstone.

  Jane followed moments later. Before closing the door she glanced back and with all the love in her heart whispered, “Good-bye, mother.”

  * * *

  Jane Lloyd awoke in the hospital lounge just as dawn broke across the city. She raced down the hall, past the nurses’ station directly into Wendy’s room. Sunlight poured in through the open window along with a soft, early-morning breeze, revealing the empty, stripped bed. Jane saw instantly that her mother had flown away.

  From the corner of her eye she caught the flash of something bright and shiny reflecting in the sunlight. Walking to the window, she picked up a small object that lay upon the sill. Recognizing it, her breath caught in her throat as a rush of memories swept away her grief and filled her with a soft glow of a joy.

  Jane recalled a certain boy dressed in leaves held together with sap who once taught her how to be laugh freely and soar in the sky. At some point in her life she’d forgotten about him, or had chosen to forget. Not Wendy, however. Her mother had steadfastly believed. And from now on, she thought, bringing her closed fist to her heart, so would she.

  Looking out the open window to the sky, Jane smiled, feeling the sunlight of a new day warm her face.

  Chapter 24

  They gathered in the great, sunny kitchen of No. 14. Jack lit a small fire in the tiled fireplace to warm the chill of Wendy’s passing. They all were putting on a brave face, convinced that Peter had come to claim her in some way and bring her back to the Neverland at last. But still they missed her, especially Maddie and Tom. They missed her voice, her smell, her touch. They missed sitting beside her and hearing her stories. They missed running up the stairs for a cup of sweet tea and a dose of optimism. They missed feeling that anything was possible when they were held in her arms.

  Faye came to sit beside them by the fire, gathering them in warm arms close to her bosom where her heart beat heavily with love for them.

  “I wish she didn’t go,” Maddie said softly.

  Tom nodded in silence.

  “It was her time to go,”

  Faye replied, stroking their heads. “She was ready.”

  “I wish we could’ve gone with her,” said a forlorn Tom.

  Faye held on to her little ones tighter, kissing their foreheads, saying a quick, mother’s prayer that this wish would not be answered, at least not in her lifetime. "Be happy for Wendy. We’ll always have her in our memories. And at night, we can leave messages for her with the stars. Maddie, Tom, I’m sure she’s happy now. Can’t you feel that too? And wouldn’t she give us what-for if she saw us moping about on such a beautiful day?”

  The children nodded and wiped their eyes then craned their necks around her shoulder to peer out the garden windows. Outside, the sun was high in the sky and the garden was resplendent with its touch of reds and golds. Tom drew himself straighter, and Maddie bent low to clap her hands and call Nana to her side. The excitement of a brand- new day sparked in their eyes, hope replacing the gloom in a flash.

  Magic, Faye thought.

  Police Inspector Ross arrived midmorning, as did Ian Farnesworthy, to question the children on their disappearance. They sat down at the large wooden table, spreading out their forms, and dutifully filled in all the blanks they could while sipping tea and munching on biscuits.

  Tom was speaking freely now and tried to explain to them that he was fine, that no one had hurt him, and that Wendy did not take him anywhere or leave him anywhere. The latter he said with his fists balled and defiance in his eyes. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone speaking ill of his Wendy.

  The questions were endless, however, and no matter how Inspector Ross phrased them, regardless of whether he separated the children or questioned them together, their responses were always the same.

  “So you went of your own free will?”

  Maddie and Tom swung their legs and rolled their eyes, bored. “Uh-huh.”

  “To the Neverland?”

  Maddie searched out her mother. Faye smiled at her from her seat across the table and shrugged. “Yes.”

  “Together?”

  Tom nodded. “Yes.”

  Farnesworthy leaned forward and interjected, “Detective Ross means The Neverland Theme Park. In London. Is that what you mean?”

  Jack and Faye exchanged amused looks.

  Maddie and Tom faced each other, signaling a message between them, then smiled and solemnly returned their gaze to the Inspectors. “Uh-huh,” they chimed, nodding complacently.

  “We ran away,” Maddie said as though in recitation. “And then we came back.” Farnesworthy narrowed his eyes and scratched behind his ear in thought.

  Detective Ross leaned back in his chair with a grunt and rubbed his jaw. “I daresay I’m satisfied. Seems open and shut to me, eh what Farnesworthy?”

  Farnesworthy looked at Jack, who returned the gaze with an open smile.

  “Open and shut,” he replied.

  “Oh by the way,
Dr. Graham,” Ross said, gathering up his forms. He spoke in the tone of afterthought. “We came across a bit of information about you while mucking about in those files.”

  Jack, who was leaning against the wall, sprang forward, all alert. “Well why didn’t you say so? What did you learn?”

  “You were abandoned all right. At Mrs. Forrester’s doorstep, just as she claimed. By some young, unwed mother. Father unknown.” He shrugged and tossed his pens into the bag. “Common enough story. Seems a number of folks were droppin’ babies off at Mrs. Forrester’s house for years. Probably because she was in the social papers so much. Her and that London Home for Boys. It’s obvious that she didn’t kidnap you and”—he cleared his throat—“Scotland Yard sees no evidence to support further investigation. Of either Wendy Forrester or the London Home for Boys.” He flushed, remembering how he’d been roasted crisp by his superiors for even suggesting it. “Never believed all that kidnapping, multiple personality rubbish.”

  “Tell me, Inspector Ross,” asked Jack, moving closer to Faye and resting his hands on her shoulders. “Did you happen to get the name of my mother?”

  Farnesworthy lifted his gaze and rolled his tongue in his cheek.

  “Ah, no, no,” Ross coughed. “Nothing official. Just some note somewhere.”

  Jack grinned and leaned over to whisper in Faye’s ear, “You see? I still think we were all Wendy’s Lost Boys.”

  Faye reached up to entwine her fingers in his. “Lost, but now found.”

  “Well I guess we’re finished here,” Ross said brusquely. “I’m glad it all turned out so well. And you two,” he said, turning with a gruff manner to face the children. “Don’t let there be a next time, eh? You’re very lucky, that you are. I don’t want you to worry your mother again with such a harebrained excuse for a lark. God knows what might’ve happened out there.”