Please don’t let this be a dream.
Her sleepy eyes fluttered open, and she smiled at him.
Thank you.
She crawled up next to him, and he pulled her close, burying his nose in her hair.
“How did I end up back here?” he asked.
“Andy and his men brought you. We circled back after fleeing the camp, but we couldn’t find you. I was worried something terrible had happened to you.”
“Andy? Andy from Michael’s story?” asked James, piecing the memory together.
“Michael told you about Andy and what happened to his brother?” asked Wendy.
“Yes. It was a terrible tale,” James said.
“Andy and his men saw you fall from the cliff. Thankfully they got to you in time. Those waters are treacherous.”
“Indeed.” James thought about the dancing lights he had seen in those waters, and a chill ran up his spine. He saw that his wounded leg had been bandaged. The cut above his eye smarted, but it seemed to have stopped bleeding. None of that seemed to matter in that moment, as he held Wendy in his arms.
“I’ve missed you very much,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know how much time had passed. Time is so very different here. I knew it had been weeks, months even, but James, I had no idea so many years have gone by.”
“It’s been a very long time, but we can’t change that now. I feel as if we may be able to make up for what we’ve lost, here, in Neverland,” said James.
“It is a beautiful place. I’ve seen very little of it in my time here, but I’d like to see the rest of it, with you.”
James smiled. He was content. In that moment, he wanted for nothing, wished for nothing. Everything he had ever wanted was there with her.
“Tell me…,” Wendy began. “Tell me you love me. Not because I’m asking you to say it, but because I need to know if things can be as they were or if too much has happened. I need to hear you say it.” She sat up and looked him directly in the eye.
James held her hand and thought for a brief moment about how he could say the words that he had thought of saying for so long. He chose his words carefully so that there could be no misinterpretation, no confusion, no doubts.
“Wendy, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. And all of the years that have passed since you’ve been gone seem like only a moment, now that I have you back in my arms. Things cannot be as they were because I am changed, you are changed.” Wendy began to cry, and James took her in his arms. “You see? I’ve already gone and ruined things.” He brushed her hair away from her face and pressed his forehead against hers. “But we don’t have to go back, don’t you see? Why would we go back when all that is behind us is pain and sorrow? No. We will not go back. We will go forward together. I love you, Wendy. You are everything that is good and right and divine. What I feel for you runs deeper than the unfathomable depths of the ocean, soars higher than the stars in the night sky. Each breath I take is slow and measured in your presence because I wish to savor each and every moment with you. I love you because you are the light that chases all shadow from the deepest part of my soul. You have made me whole again, and I am forever in your debt.”
Wendy stared at him, her green eyes rimmed with tears. She leaned in and kissed him softly.
“Time has no meaning here,” she murmured, “but I would live a thousand lifetimes if I could love you in each one of them.”
***
James made quick work of his recovery. Peter thought he was dead, and so he and Wendy took comfort in that, but James knew they could not stay with Tigerlilly and her people, who had become as close as family to them.
“You don’t have to go anywhere. We want you here, both of you,” Tigerlilly said to him one morning.
James picked her up and swung her around, hugging her close. He set her down gently and smiled at her. “I know, my dear Tigerlilly.” James looked around to see the familiar faces of the children he loved so dearly running and skipping and playing with their wooden toys. “If Peter finds out I am alive he will threaten this place again.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Tigerlilly said defiantly.
“Not if he had any sense, he wouldn’t.” James feared for any man who dared threaten the sanctity of Tigerlilly’s village. “Even still, I can’t put you or anyone else in that position. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
She nodded her head. She didn’t agree, but she would let it go. “Smee made his preparations on the ship,” she said to James.
“Has he now? Let’s have a look, shall we?”
James wanted to sail. He wanted to be on the open water, and so Smee had agreed to find him a ship that he could call his own.
James and Tigerlilly walked off towards the north end of the village. The shore could be seen in the distance. Anchored near the beach was a large, derelict-looking ship.
Wendy came running and jumped into James’s arms, kissing him on his forehead.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” she asked excitedly.
Smee came scuttling up behind her. “She’s stocked and ready to sail. She’s ugly, but she’s seaworthy.”
“Who are you calling ugly, Mr. Smee?” Wendy asked, still smiling as she turned to James. “It needs some work, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.”
“So you’ll make this ship your home?” asked Tigerlilly.
“Yes, I think it suits us,” said James. “What do you say Smee? Shall we set out on an adventure?”
Smee had been chomping at the bit to get back to the water. He loved it there, and James had grown to fancy him. Wendy had taken issue with his personal hygiene habits, but he was a lovable sort of fellow, and she seemed to enjoy their heady banter.
James needed a crew, and Andy and his friends were more than happy to oblige. The boys were stunned to see the size of their new vessel. After all, they’d been sailing around the coast in a skiff for a long while.
“Your ship awaits, Captain Cook,” said Wendy. The crew all stood at attention, and James laughed.
“Captain Cook. I have to say that doesn’t sound very menacing,” mused James.
“Menacing? Is that what you’re going for here?” asked Wendy playfully. “It is your name, sir. What would you like to be called, if Cook won’t suffice?”
James looked at the ship and looked down at his right arm. He held up the gleaming hook.
“Hook.”
Wendy exchanged glances with the crew, and Smee grinned.
“Hook’s a fine name! And scary te boot! Captain Hook it is then, boy-o!” said Smee, who was clearly very amused by the moniker.
“The Jolly Roger awaits!” said James excitedly.
James and Wendy said goodbye to Tigerlilly and O’Malley and promised to stay in close contact.
As they boarded the ship, James looked out over the village and then out to the sea that had taken on a purple hue in the late afternoon sun. A warm breeze kicked up, and as the crew raised the ship’s midnight black sails, James felt at peace.
“We’re off on a great adventure, Captain,” said Wendy.
James embraced her and pushed her long black hair behind her shoulder.
“A great adventure indeed, my love,” he said.
The Jolly Roger sailed off into the rolling waves of the sea, and while Wendy dozed and Michael played a lively hand of Gin Rummy with Smee, Captain Hook walked the deck and let his mind drift away to thoughts much less pleasant than he cared to admit.
Peter was out there, and one day he would know that James had survived his fall and now helmed a glorious ship with Wendy at his side. Hook knew that they would meet again, and Peter’s words echoed in his head.
“We are destined to be enemies.”
It seemed as if that would be the way of it, for all time.
CHAPTER 21
SOME TIME LATER
“A ship is anchored in Mermaid’s Cove,” said the boy.
“Don’t be stupid. No one docks in the c
ove. They wouldn’t dare,” said Pan.
“The ship is there. I’ve seen it,” said the boy.
Pan stood up and flew out of the open window. He sailed over the wooden fence surrounding his camp and perched himself on the edge of the cliff overlooking the cove. Sure enough, there in the mouth of the cove, his cove, was a ship. A great black and red Spanish Galleon with jet-black sails adorned with a giant skull and crossbones.
It was the biggest ship Pan had ever seen in these parts, and he wondered why it was there. Did the ship’s captain know who he was and that he was not to be trifled with? Pan flew down silently and hovered just above the ship’s forward deck.
“You’re in dangerous waters!” he shouted.
“Aye, very dangerous indeed,” said a familiar voice.
From the upper deck a man emerged from the Captain’s quarters. His three-pointed hat was black as night, and his waistcoat, red as blood, was flung open, its gold adornments glistening in the moonlight. His billowing white shirt was open to the chest, and his boots were polished to a gleaming shine. He stopped just in front of the mahogany handrail, tipped his hat, and gave a little nod.
“Hello, old boy,” said the captain.
Pan watched as the man lifted his arm and struck the railing with a gleaming silver hook. The hook was his hand, and this was no strange figure.
“James?” Pan said, barely able to move his lips to form the words. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
“No, boy-o,” said the captain. “You’ll not be calling me that anymore. You’ll call me by a new name. You will call me Hook, or Captain, if you’re feeling generous.”
Pan flew off in a rage and disappeared atop the cliff.
“Set a course for Skull Rock, Mr. Smee! Our business is done here!”
The ship’s anchors recoiled, and the crew of the Jolly Roger set off.
THE END
EPILOGUE
Peter paced back and forth in his treetop hideaway. Sometimes crying out and screaming, and other times mumbling to himself. The Lost Boys grew fearful of him and didn’t dare try to calm or comfort him. The little blonde fairy was his only companion. He shut himself off from the world. He’d sit at his table which was heaped with dirty stinking dishes, looking up at the ceiling and speaking quietly to himself.
“Oh, James. If only you knew what I know about your dear Wendy.”
He stood up, went to the corner of his room, and pulled up a board in the floor that secreted a small box containing his most precious possession: the diary of his mother.
He thumbed through its pages. He read the words in his mother’s handwriting from one of her entries. Its page was completely detached from the others, because Peter had removed it many years before he came to Neverland. James had never had a chance to read it as Peter had taken such care to remove it because that was what his mother had asked him to do. She’d seemed embarrassed by its contents, but Peter knew that the entry was so much more valuable now. He traced over his mother’s handwriting as he read the entry aloud.
I should be a Darling, and yet I am alone. He’s gone to make things right with his wife and children! I cannot endure it. I will not! He will pay dearly for what he has done, if it’s the last thing I ever do.
Peter laughed himself into a fit. Tears streamed down his face. His mother had loved a man named George. George Darling. That man was Wendy’s father, and as it just so happened, he was Peter’s father, as well. Peter remembered John saying that their parents’ death had been a terrible accident.
Peter knew better.
He sat back in his chair, craned his neck up, and spoke quietly to himself. “Well, sister Wendy. I think there are some things you should know.”
He smiled and closed the diary.
EXCERPT from Six Points of Light: The Lost Son
The night was as dark as Henry had ever seen it. There was not a single cloud in the sky, and the shore was a long ways off. In that moment, when the movement of the earth could be seen as the vast expanse of night sky stretching out into infinity, he felt very small.
The vessel he was sailing wasn’t his, unfortunately. Henry thought he would like to have a ship of his own someday. He had spent every waking moment on the deck of one ship or another for as long as he could remember. His father had been a captain, and he had inherited a love of the sea from him.
As he tended to the loose rigging, he looked at his wife who sat on a small cushioned bench in the well of the hull. She cradled their young son in her arms and sang sweetly to him. He would be three in December, and Henry couldn’t recall feeling happier than he was at that moment.
Their trip had taken longer than he had anticipated. They’d left the marina in the early morning hours before the sun had even peeked over the horizon. Henry had wanted to be back before it got too dark, but a wicked squall had made it impossible to stick to his plan. They were just now coming within sight of the shore.
“Is he awake?” whispered Henry.
“No,” said his wife. “I think he enjoys the motion of the ship. It has lulled him off to sleep.”
“It won't be much longer. I can see the lights in the harbor.”
“Can you manage it in the dark?”
“Yes, don’t you worry,” he assured her.
The lights from the harbor were twinkling like stars at the bottom of the black sky where the heavens met the water.
Henry turned the boat and lined it up with the beams of light emanating from the lighthouse. Those lights had been guiding sailors to port for a hundred years, and they would do the same for him on this night.
Henry looked back up at the glittering stars. He always felt at home under the night sky. He stared as they danced, some dim, some more brilliant, one particularly more brilliant than the rest. That little star shone white and as bright as a miniature sun. It grew brighter and brighter until it eclipsed the other stars around it.
“Do you see that?” he asked without looking at his wife.
“What? Where?”
“Just there… It’s strange, that star there.”
“Oh, yes. I see it. It’s very bright… Oh my word, Henry, it’s moving!”
The star grew larger and then zigzagged through the sky.
“It’s coming towards us,” said Henry.
They looked on as the light approached them and then hovered above the mast of their vessel.
“Henry...,” his wife whispered. She clutched their son to her chest.
Henry watched as the light bobbed in the air.
“Don’t be afraid,” said a voice.
He took up a defensive position in front of his wife and child then scanned the ship’s deck for something he could use as a weapon. There was nothing.
“You look terrified!” shouted the voice. A high-pitched laughter saturated the air. Henry felt a chill run through him.
“Leave us alone!” Henry shouted.
He felt his wife clutching the back of his overcoat tightly. Her breaths came in quick, sharp succession, and she was trembling.
The light descended over the deck in front of them, and Henry shielded his eyes.
“Are you a coward, Henry?” asked the voice.
The light dimmed and standing there on the ship’s deck was a young boy. Henry stepped backwards, bumping into his wife.
“Don’t come any closer,” said Henry sternly.
“Oh ,Henry, how you remind me of someone…” The boy trailed off.
Henry balled his hands into tight fists. He studied the boy, who wore no shirt and no shoes. The hilt of a small blade was sticking out of his waist band, and he appeared to have a quiver strapped to his back, its leather ties encircling his bare chest.
“Do you know who I am?” asked the boy.
Henry said nothing.
The boy smiled. “I had hoped you would come with me willingly.”
“Never,” Henry said.
The boy shook his head at him. “You are stubborn. It’s not a redeeming quality, Henry
.”
He watched as the smile the boy had worn since he’d appeared on deck shifted. The smile was still there, his pearly-white teeth still shining brightly, but something had changed in him. Henry studied his eyes carefully. Something was lurking there, beneath the surface, and it frightened him.
“Come, Henry, we have some very important matters to attend to,” said the boy.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” shouted Henry. “Get off my ship!”
The boy doubled over, heaving with laughter. “Your ship? Come now, Henry. We both know this pathetic excuse for a ship doesn’t belong to you.” The boy pulled the blade from his waistband and held it menacingly as he took several steps towards Henry. The boy then appeared to come off of the ground completely, hovering so that his eyes were level with Henry’s.
“Please…,” Henry started.
The boy held up his hand and snapped his fingers. From somewhere behind him, a small light zipped up and circled overhead, showering Henry with a glowing, glittering dust. The boy grabbed ahold of Henry’s shirt as they both rose up high above the deck.
“Tell me, Henry,” said the boy, clutching tightly to Henry’s collar, “would you give her up to be as you are now? Forever young? Would you give her up to undertake the greatest adventure of your life?”
The boy looked down at Henry’s wife.
“No. Never,” Henry replied.
The boy looked genuinely disappointed. “That’s too bad,” he said. “You are your father’s son.”
A loud pop echoed through the darkness, and a flash blinded Henry as he felt his body being pulled up into the air. He turned his head to see a light fluttering into the face of his wife as she clutched their son, and then there was only darkness.
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