Shades of Neverland

Acclaim

"From theatre in London's West End, to Broadway, and Hollywood's nascent enterprise of moving pictures, Shades of Neverland takes you on a journey of faith, trust, and pixie dust past the second star to the right and straight on till happily ever after. Shades of Neverland is the continuation of Peter Pan's story that my heart needed!" 

—LORIE LANGDON, bestselling author of Disney Villains' Happily Never After series

A stunning recollection of a past age, a continuation of a best-loved story, and the finding of oneself in the memories of childhood. This is a beautiful, beautiful story that simply must be savored.

—AJ SKELLY, bestselling author of The Wolves of Rock Falls series and Magik Prep Academy series

"As atmospheric as a windswept painting, Shades of Neverland is a classic retelling with lovely dashes of nostalgia, wit, and good old-fashioned pining. I was charmed from the first page until the picture-perfect happy ending." 

—BRITTANY EDEN, bestselling author of the Heartbooks series

Shades of Neverland

Carey Corp

Quill & Flame Publishing House

Shades of Neverland

Copyright ©2023 by Carey Corp

Published by Quill & Flame Publishing House, an imprint of Book Bash Media, LLC.

www.quillandflame.com

All rights reserved. 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, digitally, stored, or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used ficticiously. Any similarity to actual people, living or dead, organizations, business establishments, and/or events is purely coincidental.

Based on characters and previous material by J.M. Barrie

Cover design by Emilie Haney, www.EAHCreative.com 

Illustrations by Christina Wald

Contents

Dedication

In the back...

Author's Note

Preface

1.The Night of the Thimble

2.The Morning After the Party

3.The Boy in the Park

4.The Girl in the Theatre

5.D’Artagnon Takes Center Stage

6.A Knock at the Door

7.The Way of Things

8.Across the Ballroom

9.Three Days After the Party

10.An Ocean Away

11.The Wild West

12.The Return Home

13.Wendy Grows Up

14.The Boy in the Theatre

15.The Girl in the Park

16.Come Away, Come Away!

17.The Riddle of Existence

18.The Neverland Breaks Through

19.An Awfully Big Adventure

Acknowledgements

20.J. M. Barrie's World

21.Discussion Guide

Dedication

In memory of Mary Corp who has gone on to her next awfully big adventure.

The universe is made up of stories, not atoms.

-Muriel Rukeyser

In the back...

This book contains a discussion guide for classrooms and book clubs at the back.

Author's Note

Shades of Neverland is a whimsical continuation of J.M. Barrie’s beloved tale, weaving characters and imagery from the original novel Peter and Wendy into an entirely new story. Set in early 20th century London and America, the story is interwoven with historical people and places connected to J.M. Barrie’s original play and world.

This is a deceptively simple, all too common story about lost selves. We grow up and cease to be certain of our way. We become lost. It is a gradual process, so that we cannot even be certain when the loss occurred, only that we have misplaced something vital to our lives. Like marbles, ribbons, and our last pinch of pixie dust, we have put away childish things, and in doing so, misplaced the best part of ourselves. Years later, we wonder where our youth, indeed our very lives, have gone. Only when we reconnect with our lost child can we live the vibrant, passionate life that calls to us in our dreams.

Preface

For the moment, she had forgotten his ignorance about kisses.

I thought you would want it back, he said bitterly, and offered to return her the thimble.

Oh dear, said the nice Wendy, I don’t mean a kiss, I mean a thimble.

What’s that?

It’s like this. She kissed him.

Funny! said Peter gravely. Now shall I give you a thimble?

If you wish to, said Wendy, keeping her head erect this time.

Peter thimbled her…

Come Away, Come Away!

Peter Pan

J.M.Barrie

1

The Night of the Thimble

London Town 1907

All children grow up. Wendy Moira Angela Darling was no exception.

She promised herself she would never forget what it was like to be a child, but being still young, she could not foresee the toll that growing up would have on her. The way it happened was this.

It started the night she left the nursery for good on the eve of her thirteenth birthday. Thirteen, of course, is the beginning of the end. At first, she returned each evening to recount to her brothers the stories of their grand adventures in the Neverlands. Over time, however, she came to the boys less and less frequently. When the boys were sent away to school, she stopped telling stories altogether.

Peter, I am most sorry to report, was witness to it all. In the shadows outside her window, as faithful as the chiming of Big Ben, Peter watched as his Wendy Darling put away her childhood dreams one by one. Lately, he wondered if she could recall even the slightest detail about the Neverland or himself. If the name Peter Pan were mentioned to her in passing, would it have any effect? Could the thought of an eternal boy still stir the girlhood in one so nearly a woman? Peter felt sure he would soon be no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she kept her toys.

Weighted by a profound sense of loss, Peter flew through the midnight London skies. Tonight, he was to have his last glimpse of his—Wendy. Being yet a boy, he had no other name to describe what she was to him. She was his other half, his very own and dearest. For as long as he lived, he would never have another Wendy.

On the morrow, she would be sixteen…and a woman. So it was time, Peter decided, to abandon her to adulthood. Tomorrow, he would forget.

Engaged as he was in fortifying his decision to forsake her, Peter almost flew past the Darling house. Accustomed to stealing upon it in full slumber, he nearly failed to recognize the residence awake and ablaze. The change elicited in him an involuntary shiver. It seemed to be a bad omen. He hovered in indecision until the feel of the cool object in his hand recalled him to his purpose. A kiss. If he were never to see his Wendy again, he would not leave until he had given her a final kiss.

He alighted to her windowsill cautiously. The brightly lit room was empty—another first for the boy and it vexed him. Previously, he had never been denied the object of his visits. Lit by softly glowing moonlight, his Wendy had always been accessible to him. His cocky nature, furthermore, led him to believe it would always be so.

Puzzled, Peter descended into the garden below. Deep in shadow, he peered through the great French doors at a bustle of activity and finery.

A party!

With growing fascination, the boy watched a dozen or so young men twirl their partners across the polished walnut floor. In the hall beyond, there seemed to be a banquet table and even more people making merry. Such activity made the wary Peter anxious to depart, but he would not, indeed could not, leave until he had satisfied the purpose of his mission. He squared his chin in resolve; he would not go until Wendy had received his gift.

Peter did not have to look far for that which he sought. In fact, without his knowing, she had been in his sight the entire time. As he watched the dancers, a young lady in a shimmering pink gown drew his eye.

Observing her first from behind, he followed the form of her dress up to her bare shoulders. He traced her slender neck to a mass of honey blonde curls worn high on her head in the fashion of the day. She wore pearls on her earlobes and her hair was adorned with tiny pink rosebuds. As the fine lady turned around, he noticed her high brow, the deep blush in her cheeks, and her full red lips half open in a laugh.

Despite her remarkable beauty, she meant no more to Peter than any other partygoer. It was not until she had completed her turn and the boy was able to regard her eyes that he knew her.

For the third time that night, the boy was confounded by the unexpected. Could that stranger in pink really be his own, true Wendy? For some unknown reason he had the urge to laugh at the absurdity of her costume. Instead, but equally as inexplicable, the boy developed a lump in his throat and his eyes commenced to produce great tears that rolled down his boyish cheeks.

To Peter’s surprise, the creature in pink crossed the room to the very window behind which he was spying. Had she seen him? Was she coming to explain to him the circumstances that caused her to be almost unrecognizable? The boy shrank back into the darkness even as the door opened in front of him. There was a momentary rush of music before the young lady shut the door and crossed out into the quiet of the garden.

Peter held his breath as she took a few steps across the courtyard and then turned to seat herself on the garden bench. Her cerulean eyes met his across the darkness, as she fixed her gaze on the exact spot where he was hiding. Not daring to move, he waited for her to address him. Instead, Wendy’s gaze shifted dreamily to the stars and she sighed to herself.

Peter’s mouth opened in disbelief. Was it possible? Did she really not know he was there? If truly ignorant of his presence, could she not feel him so near? That moment confirmed the boy’s worst fears. His Wendy had forgotten him. Therefore, it was time to say goodbye. He would give her his kiss and then go.

Before the boy could move from the shadows, music once again imposed on the stillness of the garden. A smartly-dressed young man passed through the door and approached the bench. Peter, his stomach beginning to ache, shrank back further into the darkness, all the while never taking his eyes off the youth who was now seating himself on Wendy’s bench.

The youth was pale and delicate looking, appearing more female than male. Peter felt certain he could take him in a duel. During his time in the Neverlands, he had bested many a blackguard. Next to that unsavory lot, the youth would be an easy conquest.

Poor Peter. Being still a boy, he had not yet learned there were many ways to best one’s opponent and that violence rarely worked in competitions of the heart.

All the while looking on, he watched as the youth took Wendy’s hand in his and said something to her in low tones. A light musical laugh escaped from her lips. The boy crept closer straining to hear.

I do not know where they come from, said Wendy. I just know that I have received one as a gift every birthday for the past three years.

A secret admirer? inquired the youth. Wendy smiled, a most beautiful smile, and turned to face him.

When I was still a girl I used to think they were birthday gifts from the fairies. She nearly added that she did not believe in fairies but some unnamed superstition had always kept her from uttering those words.

Inching closer, Peter’s hand tightened on the gift clutched within.

And now, Miss Darling, proclaimed the youth. I have a gift for you that I hope you will find equaling as pleasing. With that, the young man placed his free hand upon Wendy’s cheek and, leaning in close, preceded to give her—a thimble!

Peter watched the thimble with horror. His chest convulsed and his hands clenched into fists until the item in his grasp broke in two. Of their own volition, his feet propelled him across the little garden until he was nearly upon the couple; but since they both had their eyes closed, he remained unseen. Wendy opened her eyes first and gasped. In the same instant, the boy took off like a rocket into the starry London sky.

Wendy leapt up causing the youth to do the same. Alarmed by her abrupt behavior, he put his hand on her shoulder, demanding, What’s happened, Miss Darling?

A boy, she replied, stepping into the courtyard and looking wildly about. I thought I saw a boy.

The youth looked about the deserted garden and then took her trembling hand in his, assuring her in gentle tones, There’s no one here, dearest.

Feeling slightly foolish, Wendy looked down. And fortunate for her that she did so, because at her feet appeared to be a ragged bit of glass or shell. Whatever the tiny object was, it certainly had not been there moments ago. To get a better look, she bent down and retrieved the item with an unsteady hand. Examining it in the moonlight, she realized she held half of a beautiful porcelain thimble. The damaged trinket had appeared as magically as the boy had vanished.

Peter hurled himself through