The Never Boy

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"Land! Sweet , Sweet land!" I exclaim as I jump out of the dinky life boat. My hands and knees hit the wet sand and I kiss the ground.

Well this was a lot more disgusting than I imagined.

My dramatic entrance to the famous Neverland was almost unseen. My father and my Uncle Shmee were walking further inland to see if the coast was clear. My father was still petrified of that boy Peter that could apparently fly. As if that was a thing.

I stand back up and wipe my hands and knees off the wet sand as best as I could before jogging to catch up.

"So now what Pops?" I say sarcastically as I shove his shoulder slightly.

"Well, first we head to the centre of the island and make camp. The rest is on a need to know basis." He tells me twisting and flipping the map in his hands. I sigh deeply and snatch the map out of his hand and face it the proper way up.

"See that little star in the right corner? Thats called a compass.It shows you what way to hold the map." I tell him as if he's a child. He doesn't catch on to my sarcasm to my dismay.

"Well thank you James. You'll make a fine pirate yet." He states matter a factly.

"Sure." I say waving him away.

He then grabs the map back out of my hands and begins stomping further up the beach. Now that I'm back on land and not distracted by my impending fall from the apparently magical flying private ship, I realize that my fathers is wear tights? I hold back a laugh as I realize that not only is he wearing tights, he's wearing a large red jacket and a black pirates hat. He really was digging this whole pirate thing but me. . .

Wait.

"Did you say pirate," I say jogging back to stand beside me. " As in me?"

He glances at the forest in front of us and then back towards the ship out at sea. He spins around a few times putting his hand in front of his face when the he was directly facing the sun.

"Wait, is that north," He says pointing down the beach. " Or is that north?" He questions himself as he looks into the woods.

"Dad?" I say a louder this time. He talks about me having selective hearing.

"No, but that would mean that Skull rock is that way. . ."

"Dad!" I yell and he jumps dropping the map into the sand.

"For the love of . . ." He bends down to pick it up again. "James, I understand that this is an adjustment but I think once you really get the hang of it, being a pirate will come naturally to you! Its in your blood of course!" He tells me brushing off the piece of paper and glancing at it again.

My dad endless enthusiasm was starting to try on my patience. And what did he mean once I got used to it?

"Hold on!" I say stepping in his path. He then obviously giving up, rolls up the map and stick it in his jacket.

"You want me to become a pirate? ME?" I ask slightly agitated.

"Well of course! I mean the best place to learn is along side the greatest Captain the worlds and Neverland has ever seen. You'll be the one to take over the Jolly Roger when I retire." He states as if this was common knowledge. I swear the second I think I'm finally beginning to understand my father he throws another curve ball at me. And I didn't have a bat handy to be honest.

"I going to university in London to become an accountant Dad. An accountant!" I raise my hands in the air exasperated. "Does that sound like a Pirate to you?"

He rolls his eyes. "Do I really have to spell everything out for you?"

"Tell me about." I say. I was going to get off this island. If I had to paddle back in one of those life boats I would do it , but there was no way I was staying on this island with a crew full of crazy men that would probably kill me if my last name wasn't Hook.

"We aren't going back to London James. Neverland is our home now."

Say what?

"Im sorry I think I may have misheard you did you say. . ." I begin when I'm cut off by a voice yelling across the beach.

"Well hello boy's it's been a long time."

My father and I spin our heads towards the crew who had all gone running to the source of the voice. Although now half of them were lying on the ground with sword wounds or worse. The owner of the voice was a blur of red and green. It was running across the beach so fast I didn't have the chance to catch a good look at it.

"Captain! Captain it's Peter!" a crew member comes running toward us. My father grabs my shoulders and shoves me in front of him. Such a brave Captain my father is don't you think. I'm about to step out of the way to let my father deal with his little problem when the crew member that was standing in front of us dropped to ground. My father falls back into the sand and Im standing there facing the blur of green that had taken out half my fathers crew. I then realize that the rest of them are just standing back watching. As if they were too afraid to fight or unwilling to.

"Hook! Long time no see." The figure says as it lands in front of my horror stricken father and I.

He can fly?!

My father still laying on the ground then scrambles to his feet drawing his sword with a shaky hand.

'P- Peter?" He stampers out with a confused look on his face. I look from him to the boy standing in front of us with his sword drawn as well with blood covering it. I look up at down the boy's body and notice why my father was at a loss for words.

The person standing in front of us had long fiery red hair . Their feet were bear and their tanned face had a faint scar adorning it on the left cheek. They were grinning widely at our confused expressions. Did I mention the set of breasts?

"It's Pan now actually." She says pointing the tip of her sword at my chest. "And who exactly are you?" She asks me completely ignoring my father.

I hold my hands up in surrender. She didn't seem like the right person to piss off.

"James Hook Jr. Not a pirate. And also wondering why you have breasts?" I question her with a slight smirk. She doesn't seem fazed by comment as she takes a step closer to me and I take a step back. I did not feel like being made into a shiscobob at this point.

"The names Pan. Not a boy. And also wondering why you find it so shocking that I do?"

I just continue to grin at her. Oh this was rich, my dad was probably permanently mortified at this point. He'd been beaten by a girl, countless times if I remember all his stories of Peter Pan.

So this was the "eleven year old boy" my father was so afraid of. Turns out Neverland was a lot more interesting than my father had first led me to believe, and a lot less fictional.