Neverland, Wiser Than Us All

Trell and Ring

Every time Peter saw Wendy, it was like the first time.

When he awoke the next morning to Wendy's bare shoulder and her sleeping form next to him.

When they spent two days alone and she would leave his sight for a moment, just to be waiting around the corner.

When she was underneath the treehouses teaching the boys to read and write, a skill that Peter didn't have until Wendy taught them.

When she would stand up in the garden, a smudge of dirt on her face and a babe on her back. It was fireworks and joy.

Or the painful night that Wendy's first boy, Trell, had to leave.

***

Trell was almost grown when he came to Neverland at 16. Peter soon learned that what Trell needed to come to Neverland to do was to rest. Life had crashed down and beaten him every moment of everyday since the boy had been born. He was born a slave, and he was doomed to die a slave.

Trell couldn't take even one more breath, the pain was too much. He couldn't leave here, but he couldn't live here either. He was simply lying in the dirt outside staring at the overcast sky, an exhausted and defeated tear sliding slowly down his cheek.

When out of nowhere came a boy. A boy with 2 balls of pure light, offering to take him away. No strings attached. They would take him away, right now. Without another sound they would take him.

Peter Pan had peeled the bloodied body off the ground, Trell never taking his eyes off the blue ball of light. At first they couldn't leave the surface of the earth, so weighed down with the its grime and treachery was he. But his green ball of light, that Trell had his eyes locked on, chimed him into the air, one ring at a time. Peter Pan never moved from under his arm acting as a steadying crutch all the way to Neverland.

Curiously, Trell felt no fear when they crossed into Neverland. He was too broken, body and mind, to feel fear. He simply followed his glowing light down to rest in front of the treehouse, then slowly up each step and to a dark room. Peter pulled out a sleeping mat and a soft blanket quickly, readying them even as Trell, eyes still on his glowing ball of light, fell to his knees . He fell down on his stomach as the green glow drifted slowly to the floor. His breath rattling painfully with each sporadic inhale.

For the first time in an hour Peter spoke quietly, "I'll get some food. Rest."

Trell didn't even nod. His eyes on the glowing ball floating gently in front of him. Peter grabbed only soft bread and butter, with some creamy milk. When he opened the door again, the almost grown boy, who Peter hadn't heard speak, and did not know his name, did not even flinch. He laid on his stomach, eyes blinking only occasionally, looking at his light.

"Eat," Peter whispered, "rest. No one can find you here."

As the door closed again, Trell moved his eyes painfully slow to the door. Then up to the plate of food. Then back to his light. Another tear slid down his nose and into his other eye. "Don't leave me. Please. Don't leave me." The soft green glow bobbed in agreement.

It then floated over to the plate of food and chimed twice. Trell heaved himself onto his elbows and pulled himself over to the plate, feeling too tired to eat any of it. But his light filled him with a hope and a determination to live that he hadn't felt for a long time. So he extended one shaking hand and sipped what he discovered was a rich milk. His eyebrows shot up, this was fresh food, not slave food. He grabbed a piece of the soft bread, the fresh texture surprising him.

He didn't feel strong enough to even take a bite, but his light chimed again, and so he dipped the bread slowly into the milk, making it sopping wet, and took a slurpy suck, swallowing it painfully. He managed only three more such bites. Then he turned and laid again on the sleeping mat agonizingly slow. "Promise you won't leave me." His light chimed again. He tried to stay awake, but his eyes closed, and he didn't even dream.