Chapter 9 - Keeping Peace
True to his word, Smee was able to put a simple shift together for Peter that night. After the girl had finished her supper, the bosun gave it to her with more than a little trepidation, knowing he couldn’t deal with her if she decided to fight him. “If ye’ll try it on, lass, I’ll make sure it fits ya right.”
Peter looked at the garment and sighed. She was wearing one of Hook’s shirts and, as distasteful as that was for her, it was surprisingly comfortable. The shirt was so large that it was like wearing a dress, but it didn’t itch or restrict her like the yellow garment had. “Turn around, Mr. Smee, so I can change.”
Nodding in relief, the bosun turned away. After a few minutes, Peter had managed to get the simple dress on and was relieved to find that there were no buttons to deal with. “It’s a little tight,” she muttered, pulling at the low bodice in an effort to stretch it out some.
Smee turned and went to work, checking the fit. “I’ll let th’ top out a bit. If ye’d just let me measure ya, I could make ya a nice dress that’s comfortable-like.” He didn’t tell her that he could use this one as a pattern now for the other dress, now that he knew how it fit her. It would just upset her again and he knew better than to pick a fight with a woman.
Peter shook her head. “If I have this, I don’t need another dress.”
“Ah, lass,” Smee chuckled, “yer th’ first female I’ve met that’s happy with only one dress. Go on an’ take it off ‘n I’ll have it fixed proper fer ya.”
Peter wiggled out of the dress and put Hook’s shirt back on, grimacing. She was surprised to discover she was looking forward to Smee finishing the shift. Anything is better than that other dress, and I can’t stand smelling Hook on this shirt all the time. It wasn’t that the musky smell of the man stank – it was just a constant reminder of the hateful Captain. “Umm,” Peter said softly as she handed the dress back to Smee, “thank you? For the dress… and being so nice…” The girl felt awkward thanking a pirate, but the bosun’s genuinely polite manner and soft voice were a relief after Hook’s false concern and mocking manipulations.
Smee beamed at her. “Yer welcome then, Miss Pan. I’ll be finishing this fer ya tonight, and bring it to ya with breakfast in th’ morn. I do wish ya’d let me measure ya. I’ve got such a lovely dress I could make fer ya.”
Peter sat on her bed and shook her head. “That’s what Hook wants, so I’ll be hanged before I do it.” She felt tired and sad, too overwhelmed by the day to keep up her defiant façade. It was getting hard to care anymore. “Can I ask you for a favor, Mr. Smee?”
Smee blinked at the strangeness of Peter Pan asking for a favor, and doing it so nicely. “Can’t help ya escape, lass. Cap’n wouldn’t like that at all.”
Peter considered if it was worth her time to play a prank on Smee and get the old man to row her ashore. I’m too tired to think straight and he’d get in awful trouble with Hook. “No, it’s about the dress. Would you make me some shorts to wear under it? It’s terribly drafty.”
“Cap’n don’t want ya wearin’ short pants, lass.”
“Surely if I wore the dress over them, it would be alright. I feel half naked with nothing on under the skirt.”
Smee nodded. “I suppose ya need some undergarments. I’ll see what I can do.” He took his leave, and when Peter heard the door lock, she lay back on the bed and promptly went to sleep.
“Let go!” Peter shouted as she came awake to a pitch black room, trying to pull away from the arms that held her.
“Shh, Peter, it’s just me,” the soft voice murmured in her ear.
“Wendy?” Peter calmed, recognizing the voice of the one who lay next to her in the small bed.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Wendy whispered as she hugged her friend. “I’m so sorry I fought with you. I’ve been a terrible mother to you today. I should always stand beside you, and instead I sided with Hook.”
Peter turned to face the girl in the darkness. “I’m sorry too, Wendy. I do want to do as you say, but I won’t bend to Hook.”
“I know, but can you at least pretend to get along?” Wendy asked. “Hook and I spoke at supper, and I’m sure he means us no harm right now. He thinks that when King Oberon finds a new Pan, you’ll have to stay with him.”
Peter ignored the sadness the reminder brought her and thought. “The old Pan before me left Neverland, but I don’t know where he went. It doesn’t matter though; they will send me away when they don’t need me anymore.” Her voice caught as she remembered how furious her godfather had been. “Oberon hates me because I’m a girl. He probably would let Hook have me and not care what he does to me. And that’s if I survive him taking my magic away again.”
Wendy held Peter tighter, afraid for the girl. “Please, Peter, don’t keep Hook angry with you. Play along so we can escape. He won’t watch as close if he thinks you’ve accepted this. And if you make him mad, he might hurt us. He’s sworn as a gentleman to be good, if you’ll do the same.”
“I’ll play nice, Wendy,” Peter agreed, “but don’t nag me if Hook asks me to do something I don’t want to do. I will not bow to him.”
“Do what you feel is right, Peter, but please don’t forget that we’re stuck here.”
Peter smiled, trying to summon some hope out of the gloom that covered her, and gently kissed Wendy’s forehead. “Remind me if I forget. But remember this: you’re never stuck anywhere. There’s always somewhere to run to, if you’re willing to risk everything to get away.”
“But where can you run, Peter?” Wendy asked. “Oberon said you couldn’t go back to the island.”
“I can go where I want,” Peter answered defiantly, a flush of anger filling her. “I’m still the Pan, and Neverland won’t deny me while I hold the power. We belong together, and nothing will keep me from her. At the first chance we get, Wendy, we’re leaving.”
“I love you, Peter. Please be careful.”
Peter hugged the girl tighter. “I love you too, Wendy-mother,” she murmured. “Please don’t be angry at me anymore. I don’t want to be alone here.”
Wendy lightly ran her fingers through Peter’s hair, knowing that would help relax the girl. “I can never stay mad at you, Peter. You’ve had a terrible day. Go back to sleep and rest. I’ll watch over you.” She began humming a lullaby and soon Peter lay curled up next to her, fast asleep.
If we can escape, Peter, then I’ll help in any way possible, Wendy thought as she tried to quell her own anxieties and get some rest herself. But Captain Hook is right. If you have to stay with him, then you must not keep antagonizing him. I have to keep the peace between you, to make sure you stay safe. I almost lost you today and I won’t let that happen again! But you have to behave for once and not make him mad, not when there’s no escape from him.
She had spoken with Hook, and the man seemed genuine when he expressed his regret for hurting Peter. He really wanted to help them and he had sworn that he would treat Peter as a lady – if she would act the part. Wendy knew that Hook would never harm a lady and that he held them in high regard. If Peter could learn to be a lady, then she’d be safe. But Hook and Wendy both agreed that Peter was proud and stubborn (traits that Wendy loved her for but Hook abhorred), and the more they tried to make her behave, the more she’d try to fight. Hook had promised to leave Peter alone and not antagonize the girl, but he also demanded that if she and Wendy were going to enjoy his hospitality, then some kind of compensation was in order. Reluctantly, Wendy had agreed to help Cookson in the kitchen and do other ‘motherly’ duties for the pirates. But Peter would have to stay locked up if she couldn’t promise not to anger the captain. Wendy knew Peter would hate being confined, but it was safer for the girl. There was no one to rescue them if she angered Hook, making him change his mind and decide to kill her.
“IF we can’t escape,” Wendy whispered, “then we have to make the best of our time here. I love you Peter and I’ll do anything to keep you safe. When you’ve rested, you’ll come around.”
Hook stood beside the bed and watched the two girls sleep. This was his third time to come wake them this morning, but on each of his previous two visits he’d changed his mind, leaving them in peace after spending a few minutes watching them. An odd sense of pity kept staying his hand, and it was so rare that he could feel such an emotion that he was loath to banish it.
Peter lay curled up on her side, facing the wall with her hands fisted by her head. During his first visit, she had begun whimpering in her sleep, and he had been fascinated to see Wendy instinctively curl up against her, putting her arm around Peter’s middle in a protective gesture without waking. Peter’s soft moans subsided then and Hook had decided to let the troubled children rest awhile longer. That had been at daybreak, and his second visit had come two hours after that. The girls had still been deeply asleep, and he’d seen no reason to make them wake then either.
But now it was past midmorning and they needed to get up. Hook was fairly certain that Pan never slept this late; the brat made it a routine to visit him nearly every morning, early, to start the day off right (right for her… for Hook it was a guaranteed way to ruin the day before it had even gotten started). The fact that Pan still slept so soundly that she was oblivious to her enemy standing over her proved that the girl needed her rest. The ordeal of the previous day had obviously taken a lot out of her. He didn’t want to awaken her, not really, but he knew that he should. So he stood, contemplating them in silence as he argued with himself.
But then Wendy yawned and stirred, rolling away from Peter to lie on her back. With a soft sigh she opened her eyes, giving a start when she focused on the man staring down at her. “Captain?” she whispered in alarm, glancing over to verify that Peter was safe.
“It’s past breakfast, my dear,” Hook answered softly. “Cookson is preparing something for you both, but I was hesitant to wake you.”
“Why?” Peter mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes or move. She’d awakened at Wendy’s voice, the word ‘Captain’ setting off an alarm that brought her speeding to awareness. But she was so tired and lethargic that she didn’t want to move if she didn’t have to.
Hook suppressed a sigh and gave Peter a wry smile. “I was hoping to go as long as possible without dealing with you.” He didn’t want to start a fight right now, but he had no desire to be honest. They had made such a picturesque scene, such a moving image of innocence, that Hook had been unwilling to dispel it. As he’d watched the two girls sleep, he’d been able to believe again in the purity of children, and he’d cherished it for as long as he could. He still wished to keep the memory strong, and if Peter would just refrain from opening her mouth, he’d be able to. “You had a hard day yesterday, Pan, and the day before. You should eat too, but if you wish to stay abed then that’s fine.”
Peter nodded, her eyes still closed. “Okay.”
Wendy smiled in relief that there wouldn’t be another fight. “I’ll get up, Captain. Mr. Smee said he’d let me help with the dresses. I can mend tears and sew pockets, but I’ve never actually made a dress before.”
Hook offered her his hand and helped her from the bed. “I want both of you to do duty while you’re here. Assisting Smee would be a good way to start.”
Wendy smiled and nodded, hoping that Peter would see that it was better to have something to do aboard the ship than to remain locked below as a prisoner.
“I’d rather walk the plank,” Peter mumbled, burrowing further under the blanket.
Don’t keep tempting me, Hook thought. “Fine then. I’ve tried to be polite and considerate this morning, and I won’t be goaded into an argument. If you won’t be civil and you won’t do duty, then you will stay here. Come, Wendy.”
“Peter?” Wendy called, torn between her desire to learn dress-making and her loyalty to Peter. She didn’t want her friend to think she was siding with Hook again.
“Go ahead,” Peter mumbled, trying to go back to sleep. “I don’t mind. Can I have another blanket?”
Hook pulled the blanket from the other bed and draped it over the girl. He tucked it around her, leaning close to her ear. “Sweet dreams, Pan,” he whispered. Peter’s eyes flew open in alarm and Hook chuckled to see her reaction. “If you need to use the head or if you change your mind about being difficult, call. Cookson and the men know to keep an ear out for you this time.”
Peter nodded again, trying to maintain her calm. It wouldn’t do to show Hook how much his proximity was bothering her. “Have fun, Wendy,” she said instead, and closed her eyes, feigning indifference.
“Sleep well, Peter,” Wendy answered. Together, she and Hook left the small room.
Peter gave a soft sigh of relief, happy now that Hook was gone. She was still so tired, and she just couldn’t bear the thought of facing the day and having to deal with him. Burrowing further under the blankets, she soon lost herself once more to sleep.
Peter sat at the small table and poked at her lunch. She hadn’t taken a bite in the half hour or so it had sat before her, and she wasn’t likely to start eating it now. She hadn’t taken more than a few bites of breakfast either, and had been so nauseous then that she’d nearly thrown it back up. She just wasn’t hungry and the thought of eating anything made her sick.
She was so bored it was maddening, and her anxiety for her friends was getting worse. This was the third day since Oberon had turned her life upside down and there was still no word about her missing boys.
I wonder if I could get someone to take me to the head. No, Cookson will come get my bowl soon, and I’ll get him to talk to me then. All day yesterday, Peter had been alone. Wendy had spent the entire day doing chores, and hadn’t been allowed to speak to her until late last night. By then, the girl had been too tired to do more than talk for a few minutes before she dropped off to sleep. Hook had come to collect her again early this morning, before Peter had awakened, and she hadn’t come back since.
At first glance, it wasn’t as bad as her first day here, when she’d been naked, chained, and alone in the dark and cold. Now there were candles and she was wearing her shift (which was surprisingly comfortable and rapidly changing her mind about dresses), and when she called, someone usually heard her and came to see what she needed. But on that first day, she’d had hope. She’d known that her friends would come for her, and she’d had enough faith in her own abilities to believe that she’d escape and everything would be okay. But now… now she knew no one was coming for her, and she’d be lucky to live through the ordeal her godparents were going to put her through.
But for now, she was bored with sitting in the silent room, with nothing to do but watch the candles burn. She’d even cut slits in one and counted the time it took the wax to melt from one mark to the next. Now she knew exactly how long each candle would last, and had saved herself from awakening to the dark this morning by changing candles before she went to bed. The only breaks in the monotony were the occasional visits by the pirates when they brought her food or took her to relieve herself.
But yesterday evening Mullins had warned her about calling too often, after he’d taken her to the head for the third time in an hour. Hook’s orders were that if she began to call as an excuse to get out of her room, then they’d begin ignoring her and only check on her at meal times. Afraid of losing the only relief to her boredom, Peter began restraining herself and only called when the silence became too oppressive. But there was nothing else to do but sleep and think.
There was a rattle at the door and Cookson entered, smiling. “Hello, Miz Pan! You like lunch, yeah?”
Peter shrugged and pushed the bowl away. “I’m done, Mr. Cookson.”
The cook looked in the bowl and frowned, turning to face the girl again. “You no like? Iz my food not good? You not eat breakfazt neither.”
“I’m not hungry,” Peter answered. “Have you seen Wendy? Is she okay?”
Cookson shook his head as he gathered the untouched dishes. “Miz Wendy bizzy on deck. She not help Cookson sinze breakfazt dishez. You need to go to head?”
Peter considered it, the temptation to get out of this hateful room strong even if it was only to go to the foul-smelling room. But what would she have to do an hour from now if she went now? Besides, she really didn’t need to go, and didn’t want to have to hold it later. “No, thank you. Can I have some more water though? And my candles are getting low.”
Cookson’s jaw dropped at the thank-you, and his frown deepened at the listless tone of her voice. Mullins had mentioned that the girl wasn’t looking so well today, and the cook had to agree. “I’ll haf someone bring vater and candlez. If you gets hungry, I bring food again.”
“Thank you,” Peter answered, not really paying attention. She was thinking, remembering when she’d first come to Neverland. She recalled how happy she’d been, the feeling a lot like being warm after a year of bitter coldness. She’d been so afraid in those days that Oberon and Gloriana would change their minds and make her leave (she didn’t remember why she thought they might, just that it had been a fear). But they’d sworn to love and cherish her always. They’d given her Neverland and given her a family, calling her their godson. It had been a fairy-tale dream come true.
But they lied. They hate me and they don’t want me anymore. A silent tear fell from her eye and she didn’t bother wiping it away. She only vaguely registered the door lock when Cookson left. After awhile she rose and changed clothes, pulling Hook’s shirt on before climbing into the bed. She wasn’t tired, but there wasn’t anything else to do. So she lay in the bed, staring up at the hole in the ceiling.
She’d had a brief hope yesterday that she could use it to escape, since it led into an empty cabin above hers. But that hope had been quickly dashed. She couldn’t fly up to it, and the only pieces of furniture in the room that weren’t bolted down were the two chairs. They couldn’t be stacked high enough for her to stand on them and reach.
So instead she thought, trying desperately to understand why this had happened. Why didn’t she remember she was a girl? Why had she hidden her gender, as Tink had claimed? Why did it matter? Without Wendy to talk to or Hook to fight with, Peter spent her time dwelling on her few scattered memories, looking for answers and finding only heartache.