Peter Pan - Part II

Part II

There’s a fairy with the homeless kid, and she can fly because she has wings.  She is very tiny, glows in the dark, and has some kind of skin condition.  Everywhere she goes, flakes of it fall off leaving a trail of glowing speckles.  If the speckles land on you, they make you able to fly, but only if your brain is fixated on something happy.  A stray negative thought will result in the immediate reinstitution of gravity and the consequential plummet to your death thanks to its unrelenting pull.  

No studies have been conducted on the effects of subjecting your happiest memories to prolonged near-death anxiety.  

In a nutshell, pathologically unhappy people cannot fly, and neither can absent-minded people.  People who are afraid of heights do not make great fliers either.  This makes sense.  

The kid with the knife is, of course, Peter Pan from the stories.  He has pointy ears, and might not be entirely human.  He’s more of an elf, if one subscribes to the Tolkienesque appearances of elves, and he likes to be called Peter even though a more colloquial “Pete” seems more along the lines of his carefree lifestyle, and even though “Peter” isn’t a very Tolkienesque sort of elfish name.  J.R.R. would have called him Estoladir or something like that.  

He can fly because the fairy, whose name is Tinkerbell, keeps a tiny cheese-grater in her back pocket which she applies (painfully, I'd imagine) to her dry knees and elbows in order to keep him coated in her magical skin flakes at all times.  Tinkerbell communicates with little bell sounds, which Peter can somehow understand.


Little do the Darling children know, he’s been lurking outside their nursery window listening to Wendy talk about him for quite some time, sitting cross-legged in mid-air, always in the same outfit.  This night, Peter’s shadow slinks silently around the room, under the beds and behind the dresser like some kind of nightmarish demon from Dante’s “Inferno”.  It is a being without substance.  Peter catches it in blatant disregard for it's lack of substance, and while wrestling with it manages to rudely wake everybody up.   Nobody freaks out.   


Against all odds, Wendy knows exactly what to do about a disconnected demon shadow.  She fetches a needle and thread and sews the bottoms of the shadow’s feet to the bottoms of Peter’s feet.  This is probably excruciatingly painful for the shadow, but since it cannot scream, nobody cares.  

It seems like it would be pretty painful for Peter too, but I guess she only sews it to the bottoms of his shoes, which means every time he takes them off his shadow is stuck to them and has to wait in the corner like a disobedient circus monkey, or under the bed or wherever, until he puts them back on.  It would be less terrifying if the shadow was wearing shadow shoes and that’s what she sewed, but then the shadow could just slip them off and run off into the woods barefoot, leaving Peter walking around with just the shadows of his shoes... so no.  She must have sewn horribly through shadowy foot flesh while the weird elfish kid played fiendishly jolly torture music on his pipes.  

That being done, Peter tries to abscond with Wendy but she tells him he can stuff it unless her brothers can come too, since if she left them home alone while the folks were out, they'd be wicked pissed at her and might take away her birthday.  He agrees even though he didn’t invite them at all and probably didn't want them tagging along screwing up what could have been a romantic thing.  Tinkerbell cheese-grates some forehead skin onto the kids and they all float into the air, and out the window. 

Nobody worries that Michael is a toddler, and as such probably has the attention span of a Chihuahua on a squirrel farm, and that he’s about to fly all night on no sleep, while holding a happy thought in his head lest he plummet, teddy-bear in hand, to an untimely and horrible demise, hopefully not over a residential area.  Imagine the ponderous pipe puffing in Scotland Yard the next morning after that unfortunate inevitability. 

Perhaps it’s best not to.    

Previous (Part I):  http://extremenoob.blogspot.com/2014/05/peter-pan-prelude-and-part-i.html
Next (Part III):  http://extremenoob.blogspot.com/2014/06/peter-pan-part-iii.html