5 The Long Flight

CHAPTER 5 The Long Flight Second to the right, and then straight on until morning.

Wendy remembered what Peter had said, but it seemed that even birds carrying street maps and consulting them at windy corners couldn't have found Neverland with those directions! And so Michael and Wendy and John had no choice but to follow Peter, and to trust him completely. He led them around in circles, flying past church spires and clock towers and any other tall object that struck his fancy. John and Michael didn't mind. They were having too much fun flying over the ocean, racing each other between waves. Wendy, however, was worried. It seemed to her that they had been flying for days now. Was the island called Neverland because they would never land? It certainly seemed a possibility! She was relieved, at least, that Peter was feeding them, although his way of doing so was rather strange. He would chase birds that had food in their mouths and steal it. The birds would then steal it back. And so it went like this for a

while, until someone managed to gobble the food down. Worst of all, the children were getting incredibly sleepy. Occasionally, one of them would fall asleep while flying and drop like a heavy stone toward the cruel sea below. It always turned out all right. Either the other children would shout, "Wake up!" or Peter would swoop down at the last minute to save the falling child, but they each came awfully close to the water a few times. One of these days, Wendy thought, Peter might let them fall just for the fun of it, because it would be an interesting sight to see. "Don't make him mad," Wendy whispered to John. "What would we do if he left us?" "We would go back," John said. "We don't know the way." "Well, then, we would go on," said John. "We don't know that way, either. In fact, we don't even know how to stop flying."

John thought about this. Wendy was right. Peter had never shown them how to stop. "Well," he said, "worse comes to worst, we could always just keep going. The world is round, after all. Eventually, we would get back to our bedroom window, don't you think?" Peter was nowhere to be found. It wasn't uncommon for him to leave them occasionally. Easily bored and distracted, he would fly up high to talk to the stars, or down low to talk with a mermaid. He always came back, but sometimes he seemed barely to remember them, as if he had already moved on to his next adventure. "I'm Wendy," Wendy had reminded him once when he had flown back and looked at her blankly. "I know that," Peter had said, but she could tell he was lying. Eventually, the children learned how to fall asleep without falling. Peter, however, found this boring, so he would cry out and wake them up

anyway—just to see them jump. At last they reached Neverland—less due to Peter's guidance, it seemed to Wendy, than through sheer luck, or perhaps because the island had been looking for them. "There it is," Peter said. He gestured in the direction the sun was shining, like a hundred golden arrows pointing to the island. "Look, there's the coral reef and the tiny hut and the cave!" cried John. "And my lagoon with the flying flamingos!" "And there's the hunchbacked little old lady and the turtles laying their eggs and the sewing gnomes!" Michael added. "And my flamingo with the flying lagoons!" "Hello, Wolfie," Wendy called down to her pet wolf. "Hello, boat!" The children also saw and recognized the scary first days at school, trying not to laugh at church, the pop quizzes they hadn't studied for,

the tooth fairy money, and the delicious chocolate pudding. It was all so familiar! Peter was a little annoyed with the children for knowing so much about the island. He wanted to be the one who knew everything. Shortly, however, the sun went down and the children got scared. Then Peter felt better because they needed him again. Down below, black shadows grew and strange noises could be heard. Out in the open sky, there were no night -lights or Nanas to keep a child safe. The children were on their own. Huddling close to Peter, they flew so low now that their toes occasionally brushed the ocean. Something strange hung in the air. All of them could sense it. "They don't want us to land," Peter said. "Who are they?" Wendy whispered, shuddering. Peter wouldn't say. Instead he said, "This island is full of pirates, and their captain, Hook,