Never Tamed

"I have a place where dreams are born,

And time is never planned

It's not on any chart,

You must find it with your heart

Never Never Land"

 - Never Never Land, from the 1954 musical "Peter Pan"

My sibling and I have always loved to tell and act out stories. We'd take beloved movies and books and become the characters in our back yard; everyone from Robin Hood and Maid Marion to Charlie Brown and Lucy. At night, we'd adore it when our mom would sing or read poems as we snuggled in bed, or our dad would tell a story. At some point, I began to tell stories as well, whispering them after our parents had turned off the lights and closed the door. (They probably heard our continued conversation in our children's high-voiced stage whispers).

One of my favorite stories to tell was the Continuing Adventures Of Peter Pan. Long before we saw the movie "Hook", which would become a favorite, I imagined a world where Peter decided to return to London with the Darling children and stay there with them. Peter missed Neverland, of course, but he knew that he could return there if he wanted. So, he lived with the Darling family and went to school, but of course, he wasn't a normal boy. He was Peter Pan; magical, and with his gift of magic, wild. I told my siblings how, during recess, Peter would float up towards the monkey bars for fun. In fact, he could fly to the ceiling of any room should he wish to escape from the adults, sitting cross-legged in the air while they gave exasperated sighs. At night, he'd sit on the roof and play his flute, while Wendy would rest her elbows on the windowsill below and listen, rapt. In my stories, Peter wouldn't be tamed, and I adored him for it. 

Along with the animated Disney classic, we also watched an old musical version of Peter Pan, with actress Mary Martin playing the titular character (available to watch on youtube, naturally). The dual roles of Mr. Darling and Captain Hook were played by the same actor, which made sense seeing as how when one meets Wendy, John, and Michael, they are shocked by their father's seemingly cold and - to them - almost villainous decision to banish their beloved dog Nana from the nursery. (In the animated movie, his sharpness is two-fold, as he tells Wendy that she is soon to leave the nursery where she has spent her childhood. She is growing too old for it, he claims, which breaks the hearts of the close-knit siblings.) The character of Tinker Bell is played simply by a ball of light which hovers and zooms around each set. Even so, there's a part which always brought me quietly to tears: when Peter is on the verge of being poisoned, desperate and devoted Tinker Bell drinks it herself, and when Peter finds out, he beseeches the audience to clap their hands if they believe in fairies, for only such belief could conjure the magic needed to save her. Her light, which had faded to a dull speck, grew brighter and brighter and made me want to believe in magic. 

Yet the part which influenced my own version of the story was the ending. Peter returns the Darling children safety to London and to their parents, who are anxious for their return. In addition, all the Lost Boys come along, and a relief-filled Mr. and Mrs. Darling agree to adopt them all. A happy ending. Except that Peter doesn't stay to grow up with them. He bids them all goodbye, with Wendy asking if he'll return. Oh please return; the plea is clear in her voice, for she longs to fly back to Neverland with him again. She is on the precipice of growing up and doesn't really feel ready, even though she is the natural leader for her brothers and quickly became a surrogate guardian for the lost boys. Peter promises to return, and Wendy, much cheered, accepts. Time flashes forward at minimum two decades. (As Wendy puts it, she is now "ever so much more than twenty"). It's the same nursery window, and a girl is asleep in the bed, just as Wendy was all those years ago. Except it isn't her, it's Wendy's daughter, Jane. Wendy sees Peter, for whom no time at all appears to have passed. Both are distraught; Wendy can no longer go with him to Neverland, and both know it. Wendy leaves the room and Peter cries, which awakens Jane. She knows exactly who Peter is, having heard her mother's fond-hearted stories. Peter sprinkles fairy dust on Jane and the two prepare to set off for a night's adventure in Neverland, just as Wendy returns. For a moment she tries to stop them, concerned for Jane, then she cries out a final wish to go with them. Peter shakes his head. "You're too grown up," he tells her. 

I was always so sad for Wendy. Perhaps for the Lost Boys it was alright; at last, they were orphans no longer. For them, perhaps growing up was truly the great adventure. However for Wendy it was different. In Neverland, she could make her own way, her own choices and rules. If she wanted to play at being grown-up it was alright because it was just that; pretend. In London, she had to do what she was told; leave the nursery, find a husband, be a lady of society. As a child, I imagined Wendy scanning the skies night after night, listening for that familiar flute and the accompanying ball of light. For Peter to not come for all those many years seemed, to me, a kind of cruel thoughtlessness. To give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was busy taking other children on his "second star to the right and straight on till morning" route, existing to not only give Wendy and her brothers a grand adventure, but her daughter as well. One shouldn't be selfish with magic, so perhaps the ageless Peter Pan visits so many homes (and is busy running Neverland to boot) it takes him a long time to circle back around. Either way, I always felt so sad for Wendy in that final scene. Her daughter flies away, giddy with excitement, while Wendy is left to contemplate the years since she stopped checking the nursery window. That, then, is why I liked to imagine that rather than say goodbye, Peter stayed. He stayed because he cared about being with the Darling children and the Lost Boys more than never growing up. So, that was the story I told. 

I never went further with my stories, such as if Peter did return to Neverland to check on things, or how the lost boys fared, or if Peter grew up and stopped using pixie dust altogether. It was enough for him to have been there for a time at least, trying out a bit of normal life in his wonderfully wild way. The boy who refused to be tamed. That was my story.