Life

I was going on eight when he came. Knocked on my bedroom window, offered me his hand, and asked me to come away. It seemed he always knew when someone was to come of age, in a sort, and needed his help. In my house, eight was when you became accountable for your actions. Who knows why the Mormons chose eight for that. What eight year old knows right from wrong well enough for God to start judging their actions, deciding if they could go to heaven or not.

I watched as he dusted me with fairy dust, from a pouch, he was not accompanied by a fairy that night. I was slightly disappointed Tinkerbell was not there, I never did get to meet her. I listened as he explained all you needed to fly was fairy dust and a happy thought. I already knew all of this, of course. I grew up watching Disney movies. Peter Pan was my favorite. I listened anyway, still taken aback that the dream I had of flying away to Neverland since I was 3 was coming true! I took his hand, my toes curling around the edge of the window sill and thought my happiest thought! I was no longer standing in my window I was floating above my house. “Let's go,” he called, even though he was holding my hand and was dragging me along with him already.

It took such a long time to get to the island, or at least that's how it seemed. I definitely was not a natural and Peter literally flew circles around me, but eventually we found land. Sweet, sweet land.

The island was so beautiful. We came at it so Mermaid Lagoon was the first thing I saw (as if I needed more convincing this was where I wanted to be). There were so many of them, swimming, floating, playing. They were beautiful, but Peter reminded me how dangerous they were, and promised we could visit them sometime soon. As we flew over top of them, heading to Peter's home under the ground, several of them smiled, and waved, calling out to him in voices so breathtaking, they sounded almost like a song. Growing up in a very conservative home, I was shocked to see that some of them were not wearing any tops. I was also shocked by how much it, suddenly, didn't bother me.

After finding the tree that fit me, I found myself inside Peter’s home… Peter Pan’s home under the ground, can you believe it? It was quite empty. When I questioned Peter about it, he explained his band of Lost Boys were out hunting.

As soon as his answer had left his lips, he asked if I wanted to spy on the pirates. I was scared, and almost said no, but how could I tell those big, brown, pouty eyes no?

Once we were in the sky again, he took my hand leading me to where he wanted to go. We landed in grove of palm trees just past the sandy beach. In the distance I could see the Jolly Roger, her pirate flag flying proudly on the main mast. We could make out a small row boat making its way toward the shore. I could see a large man covered from head to toe in tattoos, a man who actually scared me, and a round little man with a red stocking cap, glasses, white tufts of hair, and a potbelly.

When they finally made the shore, Peter turned to me with his finger to his lips, “shhh.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me along the treeline, tiptoeing silently. I was amazed how quietly he could move.

I had been there a week, at least I think it was a week, before he agreed to take me to Mermaid Lagoon. I begged and begged the whole week. I had seen the movie, he took Wendy first thing when she got there; why in the world would he not take me?! I learned that answer the hard way.

Disney likes to make mermaids pretty, fun loving, and sweet. This is not the case in reality. You have heard of sirens in Greek mythology, right? That's right, the half-human half-fish creatures that sing and lure sailors to their death! Did you know that's what mermaids are?! Why do you think the pirates never sail past their side of the island?

Before we left the home under the ground, Peter warned me to listen to everything he said, to never leave his side, and under no circumstances was I to look them in the eye. “That's when the others gang up on you, and ambush.”