I think I'm spoiler happy.

Some of you have already seen this, but I don't care. This is to share, just a bit of fun.



There is a dream in everyone, young and old, that doesn’t meet the common occurring thoughts of Earth. A little something in everyone’s hearts pleads to never grow old, never get tired, and be carefree and humble. The weary often dream that they could fly away to a place where they can enjoy the limitless ends of their imagination, and stay away from the idleness of everyday worries. They watch others who always seem to have fulfilled their quest for happiness, but then think that true happiness can’t possibly be reached by anyone mortal. Few have found the solution, and many of that few have decided that the solution wasn’t what they needed, because they didn’t see it for what it was.
But, as one should see, the imagination can be used in several different ways. It lets us see our handsome young faces smiling at us in the mirror, in a beautiful home the way we would like it, in a paradise land set with numerous adventures and discoveries left just for us. Almost like opening a capturing book and finding ourselves sucked inside and caught in the plot and surrounded by wonderful creatures and people. This is the dream that many may not know exists in each human heart, but they may realize it very soon.
The imagination can also make us sulk. But that is why it has many uses; so that the sulky thoughts can be lifted by happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts. The things that make us feel like flying, that make us feel lighter than the air we breathe. There is one person who knows quite a bit about the great effect of happy thoughts, and sulky ones. And he is the one who has solved his problem.


The wind fingered through his hair delicately as he glided through the sky, searching with a keen eye for the house number fourteen. Dancing across the great orb-like moon, he began to count the houses backward. Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four…twenty-one…. He scoured down the street to be sure he was going the right way; it was still quite dark outside. Then he found the large window with the balcony that looked down into the house garden, the window closed, the white drapes hanging sullenly after waiting a year. Landing softly, he peered in through the glass and tried to see as much as he could, but the drapes obscured his view. With a slight push and a refreshing gust from the wind, the shutters opened peacefully and silently, and the drapes flew up in joy. Funny, he had to stoop down now to get inside the room.
He watched the blankets rise up and down as she breathed peacefully in her sleep, probably dreaming about mermaids or fairies. He could tell it was something nice by the serene smile on her face as the wind from the open window blew a cool draft through the room. Looking around the nursery, he was actually a little surprised to still see dolls and little horses and letter blocks, but a beautiful instrument case he’d not detected before rested against the wall. Now his mother would play him music!
Breathing in, he inhaled the memories that were stored in this room, good and bad. He was glad to see his shadow was now very attached to him, unlike those many years ago, when he’d tried to stick it back on with soap. And the many girlish giggles that had at first made him feel inferior to little Wendy Darling. And flying with John and Michael, and having Wendy as his first real mother. He crawled on top of the blankets as he usually did, and went psst.
“Hey,” he whispered softly into the girl’s ear. “Jane, wake up.” The auburn head stirred in knowing, a slow groan emitting from her throat.
“It’s that time of year again,” he said, still in a low voice. She wiggled. And then he woke her up. “Spring cleaning!” Peter cried, flying up into the air. Jane sat up, a groggy smile still on her lips.
“Oh, the best time of the year,” he sang. “When Mother’s always here. It’s time for spring cleaning, Jane!” Peter landed skillfully on the floor right in front of the bed, staring straight at her, wearing his goofy grin. Jane just sat there and laughed. Peter liked it when Jane laughed.
“Peter Pan,” she said seriously, smiling warmly in greeting. “You’ll never stop being the boy you are.” Peter frowned.
“What’s wrong with that?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She said, shrugging. “It’s what I love about you!” And with that she leaped off the bed and gave Peter a great hug. Then suddenly Jane stepped back in surprise.
“What?” Peter said, immediately alarmed. “Jane, what’s wrong?” She looked up at him.
“Peter, I think you’re taller than me.” She now looked down at his grubby, bare feet.
“What ho? Taller, am I?” he cried, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at his own toes now, too.
“Here, let me see you stand up straight.” He began to puff up his chest, looking proud. Jane shook her head at his silliness. “No, no, let’s stand back to back.” She turned around so she was facing the opposite direction. Peter didn’t get the gist. Continuing to look down, he cleared his throat.
“Jane, what are you doing?”
“You’re supposed to turn around too.”
“Oh,” he said, and promptly turned around like Jane had said. He felt Jane touch the back of his head with her hand as if she were measuring, and then they both turned back to each other.
“Peter, I was right,” she told him. “You’re much taller than I am now. At least three inches.”
“Well, how tall are you?” Peter wondered.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I’m a normal size for my age. Oh goodness, am I seventeen now? Oh, Peter, I feel old—” Peter instantly covered her mouth with his hand before she could finish. He was suddenly very scared. She stared back, wide-eyed, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything.
“How old is seventeen?” he asked tentatively. Jane understood his fear. She knew that he had suffered from learning of her mother’s growing up too late after it had happened.
“Well,” she began nervously. “Peter, seventeen is pretty old. It means that I’ll grow up in a year.” Stroking his hair gently she looked him in the eyes, trying to comfort him. But nothing helped.
“No!” he cried. “You’re not supposed to grow up! I thought you would stay young, for Wendy, because she didn’t!” It wasn’t a normal boy’s whining anymore, though. Jane could tell something was different.
“I’m sorry, Peter, but I don’t live in Neverland all the time.”
“Well, then come with me now and stay there forever,” he said with conviction. “Come on, Jane. That way you can’t grow up.” Jane looked at him, knowing he only wanted a good mother, because he had ran away from his own. But she also knew that she couldn’t simply abandon the rest of her family.
“But what of my mother, Peter?” Jane begged. “I know she hurt you, but would you hurt her back?”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked in confusion.
“Oh, you remember when she showed that she was grown up, and you began to cry.”
“And that’s when you said, ‘Boy, why are you crying,’ remember? How would I be hurting Wendy?”
“By taking me off to Neverland just so I won’t grow up.”
“Do you mean that you want to grow up? Jane, you can’t!” Jane shook her head exasperatedly.
“No, Peter, that’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then what did you mean?” he asked. Jane sighed.
“I meant that it would break my mother’s heart to see me leave, and my father doesn’t even know everything about you and Neverland, so he would get worried. And they have so wanted me to make more friends in school, Peter. All the other girls laugh at me for wanting to play with toys still and I’m often caught daydreaming. Peter, they only want me to enjoy my life down here.” He began to bow his head, trying not to cry. “Oh, Peter! You see, it’s very complicated. I very much wish to stay in Neverland, I really do, but sometimes I think that I would only break everyone else’s hearts. Mother already wants me to forget you.” Suddenly she covered her own mouth, knowing that she’d made a mistake.
“Wendy wants what?” he said incredulously, infuriated, whispering. Jane could do nothing now. She watched him sit down like the big child he was and cuddle inside his knees, and listened as he started to sniffle and sob. Kneeling beside him, Jane put her arm around him.
“Peter,” she whispered softly. He stuffed his head deeper into his knees. “Do you want a kiss?” He almost put his head up, but then burrowed it further into his cave.
“How would that help?” he moaned in a muffled tone. “Thimbles work better.” Jane sighed exasperatedly. No matter how many times she had explained to him that her mother had curiously switched the meaning of the two words when she was younger, Peter either didn’t care or still didn’t understand. “Fine,” Jane said, and she kissed his forehead cradling his head like a mother should.
“Jane,” Peter muttered.
“Yes?”
“If I’m taller than you, how old am I?” The question shocked her.
“Peter, you never get older. You stay in Neverland! How could you ask a thing like that?”
“Aren’t tall people old? Aren’t they grown up, like Wendy? She’s tall.”
“Well, I couldn’t rightly say that. There are plenty young people who are taller than most would be. Why Uncle Michael seems a giant to me still. And he was that big when he was sixteen…. Oh dear.” Peter had pushed away.
“I don’t want to be sixteen! You’re already seventeen, Jane! What if I am growing up? What if Neverland doesn’t work anymore?” Silly as the words sounded, the thoughts were too alarming now; Jane knew they were.
“You know what, Peter. I think that this is too much grown up talk and I want it to stop now. We should be thinking happy thoughts, so we can fly and do spring cleaning. Wouldn’t that be great?” She stroked his head. “Come on, now, Peter. I’m your mother still, and I always will be.” Being the inner child that he was, even though he didn’t know that he really was older, Peter nodded, satisfied, and stood erect.
“I wish I could have seen Tinker Bell, Peter.” Jane sighed. “You need another fairy.”
“I wish I could remember Tinker Bell, Jane. I do need another fairy. But you and I know how to fly even without pixie dust. Think happy thoughts and find the second star to the right and straight on till morning!” And just like a very young girl, Jane did her childish thing and cried “Yea!”
Some thought she was so very strange for being seventeen and pretending she was ten years younger, in spite of all the schooling she was so brilliant at. But Jane didn’t care; she actually laughed at the girls who tried to look ten years older, and enjoyed every moment of her youth, except when she was made fun of for it. She was happy right now, thinking happy thoughts of mermaids and fairies and Indians with Peter Pan, knowing that her imagination was closer to her than anything else.
“Oh, the cleverness of me!” Peter cried in his usual cocky way, putting his fists on his hips in a proud manner. “I know exactly how to get out of grown up talk when flying to Neverland is what I am trying to do.” Jane just looked at him and said sarcastically,
“And I did nothing at all, of course.”
“Oh, well you helped. A little.” He said, not seeming to want to give any credit to her.
“You are the most cocky, most forgetful boy I will ever have met—I will ever have known.” Jane mocked him. He simply puffed up his chest and smiled proudly as he prepared to soar into the clouds.
Before she even knew it, Jane had gone up into the sky and circled Big Ben as she always did, thinking of how wonderful it was just to fly on a cool spring night. Her smile grew even wider as she watched Peter somersault and corkscrew in the air, or lie down as if on a flat surface and lazily float around while suddenly pulling an acrobatic trick or another every once in a while. They both flew further up into the sky until Peter cried, “Head on!” which meant that they needed to go straight forward and on to morning.
Jane streaked through the night air and was dazzled to see the familiar colors dance in her eyes until the royal blue of midnight was a rainbow of bright greens and oranges and reds and yellows and many other splendors. The pretty flashes of light were like being inside a kaleidoscope. Looking down she saw the great ocean and the island she had only been imagining for a year; now she was there, she was back. She could see the mermaids’ lagoon, the Indian village, and the wood where Peter had his hidden home. It surprised her that a ship was anchored at the other side of the island, facing Marooner’s Rock. Peter gestured her to head downward, into the forest. They floated just above the trees until Peter darted inside a sudden hole in the top of an old, gnarled stump that couldn’t have been anything else: the home underground. Jane felt as if she were almost sucked inside rather than gone inside on her own. But she felt sure and exhilarated.
Jane had returned to Neverland.
A great crowing filled the room as Peter was somersaulting around the room in the air, bursting with energy and his pure, boyish, innocent joy. Jane remembered her mother saying something to her when she was young about how people forgot how to fly when they were no longer gay and innocent and heartless. Peter would never forget, as long as he was just that. And Jane knew that he always would be, whether it seemed he was growing up physically or not. Peter landed and stood before her.
“Come, Jane,” he demanded in a funny tone. “We must get to work. It is due time that the spring cleaning has begun!” Giggling, she instantly found the broom and started sweeping all over the place. The broom was also used as a duster, and so the handle had been cut slightly shorter so that it didn’t scrape things. She found some difficulty adjusting to it again, having grown her last bit during the year of waiting. Jane smiled as she swept around the many bunks and hammocks still there in memory of the Lost Boys. They were all grown up now, just like her mother. All of them had done it, her adopted uncles; become a lord, a justice, and many other things that they wouldn’t have wanted to be if they hadn’t left Neverland.
“So Peter,” Jane said. “What great adventures have you had since the last spring cleaning?” Peter, who was going through boxes of old trinkets, and all of his past ‘kisses’, didn’t get a chance to answer before hitting himself in the head by a wooden horse he was throwing over his shoulder. Yelping, he turned around and rubbed the side of his head.
“I have a new Captain Hook,” he said matter-of-factly.
“A new Hook? Peter, that’s not possible. You killed him not too long after you met Mother.” Jane knew about the ship, but she also knew that James Hook was dead; her mother had seen it happen.
“I know that. That’s why this one is new. She’s a Captain Josephine Hook.” She? Josephine? Jane didn’t quite understand. Peter had returned to organizing boxes.
“Peter, really, what are you trying to tell me?” she said.
“Well, Hook had a little sister, and now she’s a pirate. And she’s just as mean as he was. Maybe even meaner, but I can handle that still.”
“Don’t tell me you tried to cut off her right hand, too.” Jane joked.
“I already did.” Peter stated casually. Jane stared at him for a moment, bewildered. And then she began to laugh a little.
“Well,” she said. “Where’s the crocodile?” Peter shrugged.
“Chewing on the clock somewhere. He didn’t get to eat her hand this time. I just sort of threw it into the ocean, and I guess it must have been eaten by some other fish or drowned.”
“Hands don’t drown, Peter, they sink.” Jane told him seriously.
“Oh.” Even if he was taller than her now, and maybe perhaps Jane’s own age, Peter still had so much to learn. “Jane?”
“Yes, Peter?” she eyed him quizzically.
“I want to call all of the Lost Boys back, but the Lost Boys are gone.”
“Oh, I know, Peter,” Jane said sadly. “But maybe we’ll find more. There has to be some runaways who haven’t been claimed for nearly a week. Maybe when we’re done cleaning we shall go and look for some.”
“But I need to get a new fairy first, because the fairies are best at finding them.”
“Where do they live?” Peter scratched his head.
“I forget.”
“Oh, Peter,” Jane moaned. “Some day you’ll stumble upon a fairy nest and think it’s a bird’s nest. Maybe you could try to lure one here with Tinker Bell’s old negligee. Should we try?”
“I don’t know, Jane. You can try, but when I find one, I’ll tell you when you can stop.” Jane’s jaw dropped in awe.
“Peter! You little scoundrel!” She threw a pillow from one of the bunks at him. He smiled teasingly at her, blocking the fluffy thing with his hand. Jane swore if he acted like this to other girls her age they would have either slapped him or instantly fallen at his knees. And then, she did think that as he was very handsome, the latter would have happened more likely. Oh, what to do with a charming, cocky, innocent, boyish, tall person? That was all Jane could describe him as now.
“You didn’t really tell me about your adventures, Peter. You only said that there was a new Hook.” She said.
“Oh, well, not much. I think I did tell you. I cut off Hook’s hand. Josephine’s, I mean. And I remembered that it was the right one the first time, so now she looks just like her brother, except she’s a woman.”
“How did you get into a fight with her, Peter?”
“She was being just like her brother and she kidnapped Tiger Lily. I guess the princess had been caught trying to sabotage something and they were enjoying her punishment.” He seemed to be cheering for the princess on the inside, like he approved of her actions full heartedly. Jane got the idea. Tiger Lily would probably have married him by now if Peter weren’t still so young.
“How did you save her this time?” Jane asked.
“I used my old trick.” Peter shrugged again. Then he began to tell his narrative, using exciting gestures and flying all over the room in excitement of his triumph. “She-Hook was riding in to the rocks on this little rowboat with old Smee and Tiger Lily, as I flew in among the rocks above them. I made not a sound, because I’m Peter Pan.” Jane giggled at his cockiness. She watched him as he flew around the home, reenacting the story joyously. “And then I began to pretend that her brother was in the rock, and I made voices, sounding like the ghost of old James Hook. Smee got very scared; he might have wet his trousers! I told old Josie that her brother was a codfish. ‘No, James, you were never a codfish to me!’ she said, thinking that his ghost was insulting himself.
“And then I said, ‘Yes, I was a codfish, and so are you!’ This time she got suspicious. ‘Who are you?’ she said, and I replied, ‘I am your brother, I’m afraid. What a pity I came to be. My enemy was not worth fighting against.’ At this she became cross and inquired, ‘You had an enemy, brother?’ ‘Aye,’ I said. ‘What kind of enemy? Spirit?’ she said. ‘No.’ I answered. ‘Person?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Man?’ ‘No!’ ‘Child?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Boy?’ ‘Yes.’ She sounded really confused there, when she heard my answer at that. ‘Just an ordinary boy?’ she said, and I could tell she thought her brother was a fool. ‘NO!’ I cried. And then she said, ‘An extraordinary boy. Who can be such a boy?’ And then I finally told her, after making her go through that tedious guessing game. ‘His name is Peter Pan.’
“But She-Hook was smarter than I had predicted and she had come up behind me. But because I used my ears, I was quick to react, so I turned around and fought her while I was lying on my back, and I almost fell off the rock I was perched on. But then she lifted her sword, thinking that she could just finish me off, right there, and I rolled off and flew back up. Her face looked funny when she got surprised; you should have watched us, Jane. She stood there just like a codfish and I slashed her hand off and it fell down into the water while she screamed. You girls scream very loud, you know. I had to cover my ears for a second.”
“I don’t suppose you want to hear me scream any time, do you?” Jane joked.
“No, that wouldn’t be very nice.” Peter murmured quickly.
“Anyway, I pointed my sword at her chin and said, ‘Unhand the princess ye foe!’ in my best big voice. But somehow she had managed to grab her sword as it was falling and she countered me again. But a Hook, even a She-Hook, can never beat me. I had almost cut off her other hand when Tiger Lily made a weird noise because she began to go under water; Smee had chained her up on the rock, you see. So I went down to get her when I saw the mermaids coming in, and they started to throw rocks and shells at She-Hook. That’s how I made my way out quietly while the two pirates were trying to dodge seashells and I brought Tiger Lily home. The chief was very proud of me and he had a big celebration with us. I almost thought I saw a fairy peeking in at our party.” Jane giggled, and then turned very serious.
“You should have tried to catch that fairy.” She told him. He landed with his hands on his sides and simply replied, “Maybe, Mother.”
They returned to their earlier duties of cleaning the home, and when Jane had dusted every corner Peter’s eye could scour, which was a surprisingly keen search for undusted areas, they cheered lightly and then became silent. Peter suddenly perked up.
“Let’s spy on the ship and see what that She-Hook is up to now!” he suggested enthusiastically. Jane agreed and they began to climb out of the home. The two of them smiled as their ears feasted on the noises of the animals and the birds rushing about their day. Jane walked out into the bright sunshine that peeped in through the trees and breathed deeply, closing her eyes in ecstasy. Then just as quickly as she’d begun to hear it, the noise abruptly stopped, was snatched away by something, and Jane opened her eyes in surprise. Turning around, she saw only Peter behind her, looking equally puzzled and bewildered. They listened closely, and looked around carefully, for anything that might betray the presence of something sinister. For a short moment, something chirped, and then was hushed, which made both of them jump. The silence did not suit the usually happy forest, and this made Peter and Jane furrow their brows with great concern. But Peter then bluntly shrugged his shoulders and motioned Jane to follow him as he lifted into the air.