The Indian camp was small, it had fire pits splattered everywhere. Tents were pitched in colors of tan, blue and red. Everyone was gathered in the main tent where the chief was “healing” Michael’s teddy bear, it was cut off by a pirate. I could hear her singing the healing song to call forth the spirits as Slightly told me. As for me, I didn’t join in. The Indians would call me evil because of my eye; I didn’t want anyone else to know.

 So, I sat near a roaring fire in the middle of the camp. My face was in face-paint that Tiger painted on, a blue feather was in my red braid, Vines were strapped to my chest. I stared at a gleaming sword, Peter’s. I found it on the stone in the castle before we left in the boat. I stared into the reflection, inside I saw a girl with red face paint. Her eye looked like the devil; I jerked and threw the sword away from my face. The Indians called their calls and ran out from the tent. I looked up to see, they danced around a pit of flames. Wendy walked behind me towards the woods. In the tall leaves I could see Peter beckoning her towards him. I stared and see Wendy looking for him, then being pulled under the leaves. My head cocks in confusion. I scramble to my feet and take my bow and arrow. The dirt was damp in the bog. Leaves as wide as my head grew from the ground and stopped at my waist. I took an arrow from my back and place it on the wire, ready for attack. Then I see Peter and Wendy. Sitting on a tree’s roots. Looking into its small room. I recognize this place as where the fairies live.

 Peter looks at Wendy with compassion. He gets up and bows. Wendy sees and does something; she lowered to the ground while holding her skirt. Peter raises his hand; she slips her palms into his dirty fingers. They sway back and forth to in a melody. I lower to my knees in the tall ferns and leaves. Peter pushes her away and she floats backwards. He catches her and they fly around swirling. Fairies come and dance around them. They were doing the original fairy dance. They flew higher, higher till they reached the moon. I smiled, then I felt guilt. I’ve treated Wendy poorly. She does belong here, with Peter. But then a wind blows and the fairies fly away. Wendy begins to sink down, Peter follows. I could see Peter talking to her. Wendy reaches for Peter but he backs away. He starts to shout. Wendy starts to talk, I step forward to hear better but a twig snaps. I stop dead; Peter is already facing me with his dagger out. Wendy speaks again, I can’t hear but I can see her mouth move. He leans forward to hear and whispers something in her ear. He backs away again, He then runs towards me and flies right over my head. I lay on my stomach, daring not to breath.

 “Peter come back! Peter!” Wendy shouts. She sighs and walks away back to the camp. When she’s gone I run in the direction Peter flew. I look up and see a shooting star flying towards the mainland. I sigh; he must be going back to her home.

*          *          *

 I sat back in the underground home, lying in the hammock. I take my stick and a rock I sharpened, and vines. I tie the vine around the rock and tie feathers to the bottom. Wendy, John, Michael and the Lost boys were having their feast with bread and banana’s. I settled with a roll. Peter hadn’t been back yet, but then the raven call fills the room as Peter runs in.

 “There is a new pirate on the Jolly Roger!” he exclaims and takes two swords. I brighten. Finally, something exciting is going on. “The mermaids say her name is, Red Handed Jill.” I take my bow and arrow and join the lost boys. Peter sees me and smiles, I feel warmth spread through me, the smile has returned. Slightly grabs my arms and cheers with his comrades. Wendy slams her hands on the table and stands up. I jerk and look,

 “Red Handed Jill may be a brave pirate.” Wendy says firmly. I couldn’t help but muffle a laugh, Peter and the Lost boys all laughed as well.

 “Brave or not, I shall run her through!” Peter says while slicing a melon with his sword. Wendy takes her own sword and raises it.

 “Brace yourself, Peter Pan.” She spat out the word. “For I am Red Handed Jill.” Peter opened his mouth in shock as the Lost boys gasp.

 “But mother, Hook is a thieve.” I hear Slightly say. I nod in agreement, I mean look what he did to my eye! I wanted to shout but I held my touge.

 “I see Hook as a man of feelings.” She said, I widen my eyes and look at Peter, he had a straight face. He gently pushed past Slightly and faced Wendy. He then raised his sword and clinking metal was the only sound I heard.

“You are cowardly and deficient.” She mumbled. Peter glared at her.

 “How am I deficient.” He growled while pointing the tip of the blade to her chin. Wendy looked hard at him with concern.

 “You’re just a boy.” She whispers. Peter lowers his sword and stares at her.

 “You aren’t going to be a Pirate mother, aren’t you?” I hear Nibs say.

 “No,” Wendy says. Peter smiles. “We are going home.” She says firmly. Peter opens his mouth in shock as the Lost Boys gasp.

 “Leave Neverland?” I hear John behind me. I feel half happiness and half disappointment. Wendy walks past Peter and knees before her brothers.

 “We must. We have forgotten our parents.” Wendy says. I walk back to my hammock and watch the scene. I’ve forgotten my parents, yet I’m still here. I say in my thoughts. John stands up and stares at her.

 “I’ve forgotten, my parents.” He mumbles. The Lost boys then see if they can go live with Wendy. Peter stands up tall.

 “Can we, Peter?” Nibs say.

 “If you wish it.” He mumbles.

 “If you wish it?” Slightly echoes.

 “IF YOU WISH IT!” Peter shouts and flies upwards. I jerk with shock and watch him. I walk past Wendy and the lost boys to Peters “chambers” and pull the curtain away. Inside was a large room with the same dirt floors and root walls. Near the far side was a bed made of fur skins. Then there was a table with wood carvings of a crocodile strapped to a clock. Candles were spread about. On the bed was Peter on his stomach playing his flute. I walk over but I twig snaps. He jerks, in one swift motion he drops the flute, takes out his dagger and points it at me. I raise me hands like I’m being arrested and walk calmly towards him.

 “I’m not an intruder, it’s just me.” I say and sit next to him. He sighs and sits next to me.

 “I don’t get it, I taught her to fight and to fly. What more can there be?” he mumbles and starts to cry. I smile softly, trying to comfort him. He cries and leans his head on the wall. I was sitting with my back on the wall as well. He sat next to me. He grab my hand and rubs his thumb over my palm.

 “Peter,” I say, he rolls his head towards me. His eyes red and wet. “I don’t care how brave, smart, talented or how wise you are. I like you the way you are. You don’t have to change. I’ve seen you around her, you changed.” I explain softly. He stares at me, listening to every word I say.

 “But you’re more than that. You stuck up to the bravest Pirate I know!” he smiles at that part. I smile as well, “I do not control the power you are given, the power of choice. I do not block your path to bringing her back; I do not block your river if you want to sail past. I am but humble air you breath.” Peter nods, I wipe away a tear.

 “You decide your path, not those around you.”

Peter smiles, “Oh um….” He sat up; I didn’t notice that above the bed was a dent in the ceiling, all by roots which made a secret room inside. He shoved his hand through a slot and pulled it back. Inside his palms was a leather pouch. Peter held it out for me to take. I look at him and take the pouch.

 “I was gonna give it to you when you first came here but…I lost track of time.” He said. I smile,

 “You must have been very busy.” I tease. He laughs; I empty the contents into my palm. Inside was a silver chain, on the chain was a rusty, small anchor. I smile; a tear escapes from my eyes.

 “What is it?” I mumble.

 “It’s a ‘kiss’.” Peter explains. I smile and wrap it around my neck. Peter then afterwards shows me his crocodile made from wood. I went to go grab some banana’s, when I come back I find him sleeping on the fur skins. I sit next to him, he stirs and blinks open his eyes.

 “Peter,” I say, he listens, “what’s a ‘kiss’?” He smiles.

 “I think it went like this.” He leans forward, closes his eyes, and presses his lips to my nose. I blink and look at my nose. He smiles and almost laughs, we eventually fall asleep. Our hands tightly intertwined.