Giving Fantasia: The Taking Fantasia Sequel

Chapter 42: It's Fine By Me, If You Never Leave

Chapter 42: It's Fine By Me, If You Never Leave

            The ocean sunset was staggering. Silver waves rolled under a kaleidoscope of colors, and stars were emerging at the very tip-top of the sky. It was colorful, dazzling, overwhelmingly beautiful...

            And Wendy wanted to go home. Actually – she wanted to go to the Underworld. For the first time since returning to Fantasia, she wanted to crawl underground, take off the silly dress, and hide in the shadows.

            Wendy wandered along the beach. At first she was numbed, shocked. Then finally breaking, she cried.

            Why did Jim say that to her? Even if it was true, why did he have to say it? Just...why?

            Arms crossed, Wendy kneaded her stomach. She stared into the sunset until the glare burned her vision. She just stood. Emptily, she just stood.

            Why did Jim say that to her?

Decisively Wendy turned."I'm going back." She spoke aloud to convince herself the decision was right. "I'm going back to the Underworld and I don't care if – "

            Wendy stumbled. She almost tripped. Swaying on one foot, Wendy turned and looked down. A string of Christmas had snarled around her ankle. It was curious – she hadn't noticed them in the sand before...?

            Remembering Peter's invitation, Wendy immediately looked up. She waited, expecting Peter to appear overhead. When he did not, Wendy knelt to untangle her ankle. Suddenly remembering Peter's indecent behavior the last time she had bent over, Wendy sharply turned. Nothing. The beach was empty.

            Wendy peered. Charily she untied her ankle. She could feel Peter. He was somewhere, watching her – probably snickering his head off.

            "Silly boy." Wendy murmured, detaching the Christmas lights. "Silly, silly boy."

            The string of lights stretched innocently down the beach. Wendy traced the trail to a sandy dune, behind which the lights disappeared. Experimentally, she gave the lights a little tug. At the other end, someone tugged twice back.

            This way.

            Wendy sighed. Removing her slippers and dusting sand from her dress, she strode barefoot along the twinkling trail.

            "Peter?" Wendy called, rounding the dune. Uncertainly, she followed the Christmas lights over a sandy pier and across an aquamarine lagoon. "Peter? Are you – "

            Wendy halted. Before her, nestled in the sand, was the most magical homemade scene.

A smile spread into her downheartedness. Charmed, Wendy explored.

            The trail of Christmas lights had been wound into a portable generator. A second string was looped across the sand. The pale lights glimmered like fireflies, especially as the evening grew dark.

            A white teepee made of bedsheets stood in the center. The teepee had also been adorned with Christmas lights to make the white linens glow. Delighted, Wendy peeked inside. She almost laughed. A picnic had been prepared: there was Mountain Dew (for Peter), iced tea (for her), glass flutes, and ingredients for s'mores. Wendy glanced to the corner – there were even two sharpened s'mores sticks, marked His and Hers.

            It was magical. It was cheesy. It was classic Peter Pan. And Wendy loved it.

Then she saw the boom box. The boom box was sitting unassumingly to the side, and Wendy wouldn't have noticed had there not been a sign reading Wendy! Over Here! Press Play!