Return to Neverland

You have no enemies, you say?

Alas! my friend, the boast is poor;

He who has mingled in the fray

Of duty, which the brave endure,

Must have made foes! If you have none,

Small is the work that you have done.

You’ve hit no traitor on the hip.

You’ve dashed no cup with perjured lip.

You have not turned to wrong to right.

You’ve been a coward in the fight.

- “No Enemies” by Charles Mackey

Kathryn “Kat” Beaumont Babcock looked up at the words printed on her wall. It was an old Charles Mackay poem, and she had no idea why her parents put it up there when they redesigned the room she shared with her little brother, Bobby. She turned from her bedroom wall and looked out the window. Great, she thought, it’s raining. She pulled her brown hair into a high ponytail, put on a blue shirt, shorts, and sandals before walking downstairs.

She was surprised by what she saw. In the family parlor was Mrs. Babcock, Mr. Babcock, Bobby, and Grandma. Mr. Babcock, Mrs. Babcock, and Bobby were still in their pajamas. Only Bobby lifted his head, and Kat saw that he had been crying, which made her heart break. Grandma was wearing a black dress and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

“What’s going on?” Kat asked. “Why’s everyone crying?”

Everyone looked at her. Bobby ran to her and enveloped his arms around Kay’s waist.

“Kat! Oh, dear, Kat! It’s horrible! Horrible!” he wailed.

“Bobby, tell me what happened,” said Kat. She then returned her brother’s hug.

“It’s Granny,” Bobby cried. He then ran back to Mum and hugged her as well.

“Granny?” Kat said. “What happened to Granny Wendy, Grandma?”

Grandma beckoned her to come closer. She did, and as soon as she sat down next to Mr. Babcock, Grandma said, “Kathryn,”-the sound of her real name made her shutter- “Wendy is dead. She had died last night. My mum found her dead this morning,”

Kat’s eyes filled up with tears. Granny Wendy was an old woman, so while death was expected, Kat had never imagined the news to hurt so hard. She had fondly remembered Wendy as a kind, demented old woman. For example, whenever she saw Bobby, she would through up her arms and exclaim, “Oh Peter! You’ve come back!”. Kat assumed that “Peter” was Peter Llewelyn Davies, a boy who grew up next door to Wendy during her childhood. Peter had been dead for several years, though, and Kat noticed that Bobby looked nothing like him. His stepfather was J.M. Barrie, who authored Peter Pan, and Wendy always assisted to Kat, Bobby, and their cousins that he was real, and that Peter and his brothers had loved the story so much, they had convinced Mr. Barrie to write a whole novel, documenting their adventures.

The funeral took place a week later. Everyone was dressed in all black, except for Wendy’s doctor, Dr. Brown, who was wearing red. Aunt Penelope whispered into Kat’s ear, “That man shows no mercy!”. The funeral took place outside the church, and it had started to rain. Dr. Brown, an old man with white hair, sat in the front row, on her left. Kat was not scared of him, but she didn’t want to even so much as give a glance at him.

When it was time to bury her, Kat and her family slowly got up and walked towards Grandma who was standing next to her mother, Jane, and some of her cousins.

“She was a good mother to me,” Jane said.

“Yeah she was, Mum,” was Grandma’s reply.

“Do you think he will notice?” said one of Grandma’s cousins.

“I don’t know,” Grandma replied, solemnly. “You know how queer he is,”

“Queer?” asked Jane. “Who?”

“No one, Mum,” Grandma said with a smile.

“Ok,” said Jane.

Bobby was inconsolable. He ran to Jane and asked in the innocence of a seven-year-old, “When will Granny wake up?”

Jane looked at the others. They nodded, and she replied, “Soon, honey. Soon,”

Another one of Grandma’s cousins turned to her, and Kat heard her whisper, “Oh, why can’t all children be so innocent forever! Bobby will realize soon that she will never wake up, and Kat is nearing adulthood! How come childhood never lasts?” Kat pricked her ears up. She realized that the women were right. All adults put behind childish things.

Kat was pondering this when her thoughts were broken by a scream. It sounded like both that of a child and a man. She covered her ears, but it did not stop. She turned to Bobby, but he was still sobbing. It couldn’t have been him, she thought, puzzled.

At that moment, Dr. Brown walked up to her. Kat put her hands to her sides, relieved that the screaming had stopped.

“Hello, there,” Dr. Brown said.

“Hi,” Kat said shyly.

“What is your name?”

“Kathryn, but everyone calls me ‘Kat’,”

“Why would they call you that?” Dr. Brown asked. “I think Kathryn is a pretty name for a young lady,”

“Thank you,” said May, gratefully, “but I think it’s too formal,”

“What is your brother’s name?” Dr. Brown asked.

“Robert,” Kat replied, “but everyone calls him ‘Bobby’. He likes his real name, really, but he prefers his nickname for some reason,”

“I see,” said Dr. Brown with a sneer.

The two were silent for a long time.

“Wendy was your grandmother I assume?” he said.

“My great-great- grandmother,” Kat corrected him.

“No!” the doctor said with a fake surprise tone in his voice.

Kat couldn’t tell whether he just didn’t care or if he just wanted to make her laugh. Assuming the latter, she laughed in her head.

“Pretty, too, she was,” Kat said fondly.

“Yes,” the doctor replied, sternly. “Excuse me,”

He walked away to talk to her cousins, Emma and David. That was weird, she thought. Why would her great-great grandmother’s doctor stop to talk to her? She assumed it was probably to help her with her grief. However, she could not shake the feeling of uneasiness away. There was something wrong him, but she didn’t know what.

After that, Kat started to grow up. She no longer wanted to play with Bobby, and started to plan her life out. She spent too much of her time on her phone. Her parents did nothing to her. They assumed that she was just a kid being a kid, not trying to give herself high expectations, or thinking about boys.

Bobby prayed to God to have his sister back. “She’s growing up, and I don’t like it,” he prayed. “Please answer,”

A little less than a year later, his prayers were answered.

The date was June 13, 2010 when Peter Pan gave them a visit. The Babcock family drove to London to visit Wendy’s childhood home. It was a modest, two-story, red-brick house and a white front door. Grandma was the one who opened the door. She was wearing a yellow shirt, black pants, and socks.

“Hello Angela! Hello Connor! Hello Kathryn! Hello Robert!” she said. They each hugged her, and went inside. The foyer walls were beige. Kat peered into the kitchen and saw Great Aunt Moira put a pie in the oven. After saying “hello” to her, she went to go and talk to the other adults.

Kat didn’t know why June 13 was such a big deal in her family. She asked numerous family members about it, and they always replied with, “Why, it’s Spring Cleaning Day!”. Even little Bobby could never quite apprehend why Spring Cleaning Day was such a big deal in his family. Must be an old family tradition, he thought. Why do few people celebrate it, then?

The day was terrific! Kat and Bobby enjoyed seeing everyone in their family together. Well, except for Emma and David Darling. The Babcock children did not get along with those two Darling’s. For one thing, Emma Darling was as spoiled as a rotten apple. David was an overachiever, and never missed the opportunity to compare himself to everyone else. The only thing they had in common was their confusion as to why June 13 was important.

At eight o’clock, great aunt Moira called all children, who were upstairs playing, to supper. Kat hastily put on her matching white pajamas with red dots on and joined her family. Her mouth watered when she saw the bread, mashed potatoes, green beans, and great aunt Moira’s famous broccoli casserole. “Mmm,” she said, dreamily. The air smelled of happiness.

Kat prominently sat down between Uncle Jack and Uncle Samuel. They talked with David about the time he won his team’s first ever football match.

“And then I yelled, ‘Goal!’!” he exclaimed loudly.

“That was a good story, David!” Kat said, clapping her hands.

When she was done, he looked at her with a look that said Shut up, Kathryn.

“So, Emma, how’s school?” Dad asked cousin Emma. Emma’s red hair was pulled back into a meat bun, and she had on red pajamas. Her eyes were as brown as chocolate. Kat couldn’t help think that she did look like an apple.

She smiled and said promptly, “It’s good, thank you, Uncle Connor. I’m the best at everything,”

Everyone laughed. Kat said, “Oh Emma! You are acting like a child,”

Emma stuck her tongue out.

“What’s wrong with being a kid?” David asked. “I swear, Kat, you’re too serious,”

“Serious? Me?” said Kat. “I can be childlike whenever I want to,”

“Now children, don’t fight,” said Uncle Jack.

“Alright Dad,” said Emma willingly. She smiled at Kat a smile that said, I won. I’ve got my daddy wrapped around my little fingers.

A buzzer went off.

“Oh!” exclaimed Moira. “That cake is done!”

She got up and walked into the kitchen.

“Cake?” said David, questioningly. “It’s no one’s birthday!”

“Oh, yes, it is,” Bobby said.

“Nobody asked you, shrimp!” David replied.

“Sorry,” was Bobby’s reply.

“Whose birthday is it, Bobby?” Emma asked.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and said simply, “Not telling,”

“Why not?” David said.

“If I told you, none of you bigger kids would believe me,” said Bobby.

Before Kat could intervene, Moira came out with a white sheet cake. David, Emma, Kat, and Bobby stared at it with their mouths hanging open.

“I want that cake!” Bobby exclaimed and ran up to her. Moira pushed him back.

“Sorry, Bobby,” said she, “but this cake isn’t for you,”

Grudgingly, Bobby walked back to his seat, and sat down. Moira set the cake in the middle of the table. She then pulled out party hats of different colors. When everyone had theirs on, all the adults (except Mr. and Mrs. Babcock) sang in unison:

“Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday, dear Peter!

Happy birthday to you!”

“Who’s Peter?” Emma asked.

“Peter Pan, of course!” exclaimed Grandma.

“But he isn’t real!” David said.

“Yes, he is!” Bobby spat back. “I know he is!”

Emma scoffed and said, “Come on, Bobby. Be serious,”

“Does he live like us?” David said.

“No, but-,” Bobby began.

“Of course, Peter Pan is real!” Uncle Jack protested.

Mr. Babcock looked concerned.

“Oh, come on, Jack,” he whispered to Uncle Jack. “Bobby and Kat are at that age where they must grow up. Peter Pan is just a silly, made-up tale for little children,”

“It’s not silly, Daddy!” Bobby exclaimed, his eyes filling up with tears.

“I’m sorry, Bobby,” Mr. Babcock said, apologetically.

“He is real, Connor,” Grandma explained. “He’s appeared to all of us. I have pictures,”

Grandma reached into one of her shirt pockets and opened an old wallet. She has everyone look in it. When it was Kat’s turn, she noticed that the pictures were taken in the same room. The first one was of Wendy and her seven little brothers. They all were sitting on the carpet, looking as happy as could be. The one below that showed Jane, in a polka dotted dress, standing on the carpet, curtsying. The one below it showed two girls, one of whom was obviously Grandma, the other great aunt Moira. Just below that one was the picture of a blonde schoolgirl, whom Kat instantly recognized as Mum.

While the faces were virtually the same, the only thing that changed was the nursery. It no longer had a red carpet, but a brown mahogany floor. The fireplace was no longer there as it had been taken off the wall during World War II. The three little beds had worn, and in their places are three large beds fit for kings and queens. The only thing that remained was the large window that was almost always open.

“There’s Wendy and the boys in 1904,” Grandma said.

“Then there’s me in 1927,” Jane said, pointing to the one of her.

“Then there’s me and Margaret in 1957,” Moira pointed out.

“Heck, I remember Peter had a hard time telling us apart at first, because we’re twins!” Grandma added with a laugh.

“And then there’s me in 1983,” Mrs. Babcock pointed out.

“Why are there no boys in the other pictures?” Bobby asked.

Everyone else shrugged.

“Poppycock!” David said. “That still isn’t proof if Peter Pan exists or not. Like Dad said, Bobby, he’s just a made up character for babies,”

“I’m not a baby!” Bobby shot back.

“Of this family, you are,” Mr. Babcock whispered to him.

“Anyway,” Mrs. Babcock said, “it’s tradition that we celebrate both Peter’s birthday and Spring Cleaning Day, because whenever a girl in our family turns twelve, all the children in the house get to go and visit Neverland. If you ask me, Kat needs it more than anybody,”

“Mum,” Kat said, “David’s right. Peter Pan does not exist and he never will. How can a child not grow up?”

“Kathryn!” Mrs. Babcock exclaimed. “You and your cousins are upsetting Bobby,”

Kat looked at her little brother. Bobby looked like a water sprout that was clogged up and ready to explode. She thought it best to keep her opinions about Peter Pan to herself for the rest of supper.

“It’s a tragedy, really,” Jane commented sadly.

“What is, Jane?” asked Mr. Babcock.

“That Peter can never grow old like my mother, father, aunties, uncles, and cousins did,” replied Jane.

“Don’t forget Captain Hook,” Emma said mockingly. “Surely he must good company!”

“Oh no,” Grandma said. “Hook is dead. The crocodile swallowed him up,”

“A crocodile?” said Kat with a shutter.

“Oh yes,” Grandma replied, “but don’t worry, Kathryn. That old croc is dead,”

Thank you, God, thought Kat. She was apprehensive of crocodiles after seeing one at an aquarium when she was six during a family vacation to Florida.

“Ah!” Jane exclaimed suddenly. “I almost forgot! The shanties, John! The shanties!”

Kat shot Uncle John a confused look. Everyone in the family knew that John was a musical genius, but Kat had never actually heard him play before. He got up and pulled a flute out of his pocket. Kat had never seen anything quite like the instrument before. It was tiny and had several long pipes, some of them very long, others very short.

John took a deep breath and blew into it. It was a jolly tune. Soon all the grown ups began to pound their fists on the table and sang these words:

There once was a ship that put to sea,

The name of the ship was the Billy of Tea.

The winds blew hard, her bow dipped down,

Oh, blow, my bully boys blow!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

She’d not been two weeks from shore,

When down on her a right whale bore!

The captain called all hands and swore

He’d take that whale in tow!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

Before the boat had hit the water,

The whale’s tail came up and caught her.

All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her,

When she dived down low!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

No line was cut, no whale was freed,

The captain’s mind was not of greed.

And he belonged to the Whaleman’s creed,

She took that ship in tow!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

For forty days or even more,

The line went slack then tight once more.

All boats were lost, there were only four

But still that whale did go!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

As far as I’ve heard, the fight’s still on,

The line’s not cut, and the whale’s not gone.

The Wellerman makes his regular call,

To encourage the captain, crew and all!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

Soon may the Wellerman come,

To bring us sugar, and tea, and rum.

One day, when the tonguing is done,

We’ll take our leave and go!

Everyone started clapping.

“Bravo uncle!” Kat shouted.

“You play it beautiful just like he does!” Grandma shouted.

When everyone stopped clapping, it was time to take the children to bed. Kat and Emma insisted on helping Grandma, Mrs. Babcock, and great-grandma Jane clean up.

“I know what you girls can do,” Mrs. Babcock said. “Emma, you can help us in the kitchen. Kat, could you please watch Peter’s cake? He might come by tonight to have a few slices,”

Kat looked grudgingly at the cake that was on the counter.

“Come on, Mum,” she complained. “Everyone knows that Peter Pan does not exist. Honestly, this is ridiculous! Why not make cousin David do it?”

“That’s what your dad says,” Mrs. Babcock replied. “Anyway, David is sleeping in the nursery with your brother and Emma, and you saw how tempted Bobby was to eat it. We can’t take any chances,”

“ROBERT DRISCOLL BABCOCK!” Grandma shrieked.

Everyone turned. Bobby was up in the cabinet above the stove, trying desperately to get some cake with one hand while holding onto the cabinet door with the other. Grandma raced over and caught him before he fell.

Kat walked upstairs to bed a short while later. Grandma was worried she would accidentally drop the cake, so she carried it up for her. Kat opened the door at the top of the stairs for her. It was a decent size room with a large bed, a lamp stand, one large dresser, and a large window with a seat. This was to be Kat’s room, because Kat thought she was too old for the nursery.

“Are you sure you want to start sleeping in here, darling?” Grandma said as she set the cake down on a small table by the window.

“Yes, thank you,” said Kat.

She then climbed into bed.

“Grandma?” she said.

“Yes, dear?” said Grandma.

“Do you really think Peter Pan exists?” she said. “I don’t, yet everyone else in this family, except Dad, believe in him. Besides, I think I’m getting too old for childish things,”

The old little approached her bed calmly.

“Honey,” Grandma said, “I had the same questions growing up. That is, of course, until Pan came to get me and Moira. I remember thinking that I would forget him, and put all the things of my youth away. Then Dad told me, ‘Margaret, it’s ok to grow up. You just can’t lose your inner child,’,”

“You have an inner child?” Kat asked.

“Oh yes!” Grandma explained. “We all do, but a lot of people choose to ignore it,”

Kat nodded her head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart!” Grandma said.

“Good night Grandma,” Kat said. “Love you,”

“Love you, too,” Grandma went I’ve ran skidded her on the head. She then walked out of the room, closing the door quietly after her.

As soon as she was gone, Kat got up and closed the window. Peter Pan’s not real, she thought. My family’s crazy, and Dad and I are the only sane ones. She climbed back into bed. As soon as she did, however, the window opened on its own. Kat sighed, and tried to close it again. As expected, it opened once more. “What the?” said Kat.

“Oh well,” she said to herself exhausted. “I guess some cool air wouldn’t hurt,”

Kat turned out the light and clambered back into bed. She laid there for a good ten, maybe fifteen, minutes counting sheep.

She did not see the flying shadow, but she did hear the neighbor’s dog bark. Must be a squirrel, she thought. Kat dreamed of Wendy and Bobby. She dreamt that Bobby was playing with her old toys in her room, and she screamed, “Bobby, get out of my room!”. It was then she woke up.

She heard the distant sounds of someone eating something and changing the words:

“Happy birthday to me!

Happy birthday to me!

Happy birthday, dear- (His mouth was full so she couldn’t make out the name.)

Happy birthday to me!”

Bobby, she thought, Mum and Grandma told you not to eat the cake.

She turned over.

What scared her was that somebody else was there in Bobby’s place.

Author’s note: Hey guys! Hope you like the story so far! ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME. THE OTHERS BELONG TO J.M. BARRIE. If you like it, please like, review, comment, and share. Stay tuned! This is a fan fiction sequel to the 2003 movie.