Keeping Fantasia: The Third Book of the Fantasia Series

Chapter 99: A Spoonful of Sugar

Chapter 99: A Spoonful of Sugar

Ariel's fireworks lit Fantasia like a firefly.

Every rooftop glowed under the multicolored lights, including 1953 Kensington Avenue, the prior residency of Mr. and Mrs. George Darling.

Sadly, 1953 Kensington Avenue was a wreck. The corner brick house had rotted away long ago, and even the dazzling fireworks couldn't ameliorate the ramshackle exterior. As a matter of fact, the house would have been condemned had it not been under the proprietary of the current residents, Mr. and Mrs. Peter Pan.

Wendy examined her childhood home.

She shook her head and sighed.

"Can't put lipstick on a troll." Dismally, Wendy appraised the house against the fireworks. At best the crackling lights only illuminated it's ugliness. "Absolutely dreadful."

"I'll say!" Peter zipped out of a second story window.  Several bricks crumbled off the ledge as he joined Wendy by the corner lamppost. Half curled around the post, he shook spider webs from his hair.

"God that place is death trap. I wouldn't live in it as a ghost."

Wendy gave a wry sniff.  Ghosts indeed. Both her mother and father had been murdered in that house.

"Then I suppose that's one thing we won't have to worry about. Ghosts ." Wendy crossed her arms, as if to ward off evil spirits. "Small blessings."

Peter leaned off the lamppost, hanging by one arm.

Wendy was being unexpectedly glum. Peter thought the house-call would excite her, but she hadn't smiled once.

Granted, there were lots of glaring negatives – the mold, the spiders, the structural damage. And how could Wendy ever forget the house's haunted past?

But Peter had a different outlook. Until now, he had lived like a nomad, roosting from place to place, whether it be the orphanage, Skyworld, or the Second Star.

But this place -- 1953 Kensington Avenue – was truly his. His name was on the deed, right alongside Wendy's. This was the place where his mail would be sent. This was the place he could set rules or break them. This was the place he would call home sweet home.

This was the place where he and Wendy would raise their family. Even if they had to start over from square one.

Peter hopped off the lamppost.

"You know what this place needs?" Dodging backwards, he circled around Wendy and peeked over her shoulder. "A woman's touch."

Wendy sucked a cheek. "Is that all?"

"Sure is. Wendy---" He pranced beside her. "Lemmie tell you a little something about women."

Wendy laughed. "Well I can hardly wait to see the offensive turn this takes."

"It's not offensive, it's a compliment. Silver and I used to talk about this all the time - a woman's' touch is near magical. You know what they say – a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down!"

"Yes well," Wendy opened a hand. "Not when you're dealing with a cadaver."

"Wow! Morbid."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just...." Wendy brushed spiderwebs from Peter's ear. "I thought it would be more...livable."

"Ya did?" Peter rubbed his neck. "Gee – I mean after two pirate invasions and twenty-plus years of abandonment, I kinda figured it would need a little more than a light dusting."