Jas. Hook, Captain

"You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one."

I was treated to marvelous dreams, riding on elephants with impossibly long legs, of orange skies and purple clouds, of lightning that tickled and thunder that sang beautiful melodies before raining drops of sweet green honey. I dreamed of rivers of sand with nightmarish giant snakes therein, pursued by whales with wings.

To be sure, it was frightening and delightful all at once.

And when I awoke, I was alone in the forest but for the chirping of strange exotic birds and the buzzing and chittering of equally strange bugs. I withdrew my father's pocket watch, not sure what to expect. The hands spun lazily in both directions, sometimes fast and other times slow.

"Peter!" I called out. "Tinker Bell!"

But there was no answer. Fearless, knowing they couldn't have gotten far, I set out to explore.

The trees about the island were gnarled old things, looking as though they had taken root centuries before. Upon closer inspection, the bark appeared to have faces like that of elderly people, soft featured, fat and wrinkly and happy.

"Good morning, grandmother," I greeted one lumpy oak, only a passing attempt at humor, but I was delighted and startled when the wooden face came to life and answered back.

"Grandmother, am I?" the old tree replied. "I've given birth to many a sapling but none so odd looking as yourself."

I couldn't even say more, giggling hysterically as I was. I ran off, dancing and skipping as I went. This world was a wonder, this Neverland.

Presently, I began to hear the haunted notes of a distant song, sung by whom I could not easily discern for I was flanked and fronted by wild hedges. This somber alto lured me deeper into the embrace of nature, and perhaps it was a siren call but like those ancient mariners I felt compelled to seek the source of such beautiful music, heedless of danger.

Of a sudden, I burst forth into a sun-dappled glade, like Athena bursting out of the forehead of Zeus, fully formed, albeit less noble. Or graceful.

My eyes readjusted to the bright light and I saw before me a child my age, a girl with chestnut skin, and long black hair which she was binding in plaits. Her clothing appeared to be made of leather, adorned with beads and bells and ribbons of all colours.

She was, to my mind, the most beautiful girl I'd ever had the pleasure of seeing face to face.

I approached her cautiously, and utterly without grace. Stumbling over exposed tree roots, crunching through dead leaves, kicking stones about carelessly. I suppose it was my good fortune that I was not hunting deer. Or anything else for that matter.

"My name is James what's yours pleased to meet you?" I blurted out clumsily as I approached her.

Slowly, she looked up into my eyes, directly and possessed of a self-confidence that I immediately admired. Her expression gave nothing away, and did not belie her nature. This girl, who appeared to me then as now a mystery, was both stoic and reserved.

I cannot say that I was in love, for I was then but a child, yet I was enamoured. She was enchanting, and I was under her spell.

"My father said I was beautiful, and my mother said I am fierce, so they named me Omahkatayo Aapistsisskitsi. But you can call me Tiger Lily I suppose."

"James," I blurted.

"You're not from here," she observed, without judgment. As though pointing out an oddly shaped stone.

"Just arrived," I said. "My friend, Peter and me, well..."

"I met him," she interrupted.

I blushed, annoyed a little that he had gone introducing himself without me. I felt left out and it stung a little.