Thimble (a Panfiction)

Chapter Four: With Wendy Again

As Peter dropped into the nursery, confused, he accidentally landed on the face of a round, pudgy boy. "Nibs, get off!" the boy grunted, shoving Peter away.

Peter, weighing almost nothing, flew to the other side of the room, where he smacked into a book shelf and Wendy's award for General Knowledge from school fell on top of his head, then onto the floor with two loud thumps.

The Lost Boys (now Found) had not entirely lost their wildness now, even after years of living in civilization, and they all sprang from their cots at the loud noise. Michael rolled off the bed still asleep and John continued to snore, but Wendy sat up.

"Boys, no fighting," she told them sternly. They may all have shared a mother now, but Wendy still liked to play the role when she could. Then her eyes found Peter.

"Hullo," Peter said blankly. It had been too many years—he no longer remembered her.

Wendy could see it in his eyes. "Hello, Peter," she greeted shyly. "I'm Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling."

"Peter," he responded, crossing his arms across his chest. "Pan."

"I know who you are." Wendy beamed down at him. She was taller than him now, which felt strange, but she chose to accept this and moved on. "I was your mother, once."

"Were you?" Peter asked. He still had no memories of her.

"Why, don't you remember us, Peter?" one of the twins asked.

"Of course I do," Peter retorted, too proud to admit otherwise.

Wendy came to his aid. "I'm your mother. Well, not your actual mother, but you took me to Neverland to be your mother...these were your Lost Boys, Peter, when I came to be your Mother. We fought Captain Hook, and Tinkerbell, your fairy-friend, hated me. I told you stories..."

"Wendy," Peter repeated, interrupting her. The names and memories came back in a bright flash, and Peter leapt across the room to her. "You gave me a thimble!" He turned to the other boys. "Tootles, Slightly, Nibs, Twins, and Curly." He pointed to each boy as he named them. Then turning to John and Michael, who were both awake now and speechless with excitement he said, "John, that was your hat, wasn't it? That we made the Little House's chimney out of? It still gives smoke!" John beamed and nodded. "And Michael—you were the one the Picanninies worshipped, weren't you? Because they thought your freckles were the markings of a god!"

Soon they were all sharing memories excitedly.

"And when the fairies tried to sail Mother back to the Mainland on a giant leaf!" shouted Tootles. They were once again resorting to calling Wendy 'Mother.'

"And when Peter defied the lions! He drew a line and dared any of them to cross it, but they wouldn't! Lions are smarter than pirates!"

"Or that cake that Hook made, and then we chucked it at him and knocked him out—" one of the Twins started.

"—And when he came to it was dark, and he tripped on it trying to get away!" the second Twin finished.

"But why have you come, Peter?" Wendy asked seriously as the excitement began to die down. "It's not yet spring cleaning time!"

"Yes it is," Peter replied sharply. "I was here just now, only with Margaret."

"Who's Margaret?" Wendy asked.

"She is my mother also," Peter replied. "Only she is grown up now." The memories came back to him and he frowned. "She hated me. She yelled at me and tore my shadow." He looked down unhappily at his shadowless form.

"Your new mother?" Wendy frowned.

"When my old mother grows up, I get a new one," Peter explained. It was as simple as that to him. "Except this time there was no new one; there was only my old one and she was grown up and furious with me." Then Peter remembered the box. "Wendy! I must show you something!"

"But it isn't springtime!" Wendy began again. "Mother won't let me—"

"Never mind that!" Peter dismissed. He grabbed Wendy's hand and drew her to the window.

"I've forgotten how to fly," Wendy realized in dismay.

"I'll soon teach you," Peter promised impatiently. "You only have to think happy thoughts—it's easy! Think of magic! And the mermaids! And all the times we've had! The thoughts lift you into the air!"

"Surely...surely I need more pixie dust?" Wendy asked doubtfully.

"You only need it once," Peter replied. He wanted to show her already. As she stepped up onto the windowsill, they heard her parents approaching.

"Quick! Everyone to bed!" cried Slightly.

In a moment, all but the nightlights had been switched off, and each boy was in bed, sleeping peacefully. Wendy, however, was still on the windowsill. Peter offered her a hand, and, keeping her eyes on his boyish face, Wendy slowly lifted off the ground. She had forgotten how wonderful it was to fly. The happy thoughts lifted you higher and higher and higher—until the unhappy thought of being higher than you wanted to be brought you back down to the level you preferred.

Hand and hand, the two flew away and were gone the instant the door knob turned.

Wendy thought she heard her mother cry something and Nana bark, but she tried not to think about.

They flew back to the Gardens. Thanks to the now quite heavy rain, not many people were about and the magic box lay untouched. They flew inside it, and Wendy was definitely impressed.

"It's...it's bigger on the inside!"

"I know!" Peter said proudly.

Wendy hurried outside again and flew around the entire box to see if it was some kind of trick. Finding no signs of it being fake, she flew back inside.

"What were you doing?" asked Peter.

"Checking to see if the box is really that small on the outside," Wendy replied.

"Of course it is," Peter retorted.

Thus, the difference between the two was shown. Once, they had been the exact same size in both mind and body, but no longer. Wendy was growing up; she required evidence now and was less quick to believe. Luckily, Peter was normally far more interested in himself than others, and didn't notice the contrast between them.

"So what does it do?" Wendy asked.

"Watch," Peter answered. He stuck his hand back into the squishy white stuff. For a moment, nothing happened.

"What's happening?" Wendy wasn't sure what she was to expect.

"I don't know," Peter replied. "I think this box brought me to you. I was with Margaret, then I came to Kensington Gardens—"

The whole place shook, and that same musical and vibratory noise emanated from all around them.

"What's that sound?" Wendy said, gripping the railing beside her.

"The box makes it when we move," Peter replied.

The shaking and crashing about finally stopped."We're here," Peter declared.H3Y (