skin looked darker, and her hair, too, but who could tell? Humans were strange. Maybe they changed now and then.
“I have a question about a book. Please,” the girl spoke softly.
No, that was definitely not Ugly Wendy. Ugly Wendy wasn’t shy when she spoke. She was loud. And to the fairy’s ears, strident and pushy.
“My wares are far more refined and intellectual than what will satisfy the likes of you,” the shop owner snapped without looking up from his own book. “I doubt you can even read. Where are you from?”
“My parents are from Barbados, sir. I was born in England and am a citizen.”
“Hardly. Please leave my premises at once.”
“But—”
“Get out. Now. Or I shall summon the constable. Your kind is not welcome here.”
The girl sighed, shook her head, and left.
Tinker Bell also buzzed off, confused and full of unquiet thoughts. She paused to catch her breath and sort things out—and also to suggest to a couple of nearby mice that they would probably very much enjoy comfy nests made exclusively out of a shop’s worth of shredded books. They agreed and scampered off, summoning dozens of their friends.
Wendy was a big ugly girl. That was just the truth of the matter. And she took Peter’s attention away from Tink, despite being big and ugly.
But…
Was this the world she lived in?
Where random men might try to hurt her?
Where even if a girl was polite, people…ignored her? Yelled at her? Made fun of her?
Was this why Ugly Wendy stayed inside all the time telling stories to her brothers?
Because it was safe?
Because she could be whatever she wanted?
Maybe her brothers were also ugly, but at least they treated her with respect.…
Tinker Bell shook her head, trying to physically beat the thoughts out. They were complicated and negative and felt strangely similar to the ones she had about Peter and convincing him that his shadow wasn’t in London. There was something…icky about them. Like the bad-smelling graklemud you could never completely get off. You always thought you had, but there would be just a tiny bit somewhere and you wouldn’t be able to find it and you would stink embarrassingly for days.
She rose into the air to fly her mind clean. She skimmed along the roofs and chimneys and spires of London, spiraling out wider and wider, expanding her search.
Sometime mid-morning, when the tired sun crawled into its work clothes of smoke and mist, Tinker Bell finally found the attic gable she remembered from years before.
But unlike every other time when she and Peter had come to hear stories, the windows were shut and fastened tight.
Tinker Bell frowned and whizzed back and forth. She rapped on the glass angrily with her tiny knuckles.
No one was there.
She zoomed into the garden and up to the kitchen door and knocked, trying to stick her head into the too-small keyhole. She jingled furiously when she got stuck there for a moment.
Then she heard a scratching on the other side, almost like a response to her knocks. She redoubled her efforts, slamming against the wood feetfirst.
The door pulled slowly and laboriously inward and she tumbled into the Darling household.
There were no humans about; only the dog was there. She regarded the fairy with large, woeful eyes. But the little fairy didn’t stop to say hello or thank you. She zoomed like an angry hornet from room to room until she found the stairs and zipped up them—and then a second set of stairs when she realized her destination lay on the next floor.
The low thudding steps of Nana came up slowly behind her, as well as a doggy sigh or two.
Here was the terrible room. Where Ugly Wendy told her stories to her brothers while Tink and Peter stayed outside looking, listening in. With all of its stupid, ugly, large human tools and bits and pieces littering the room…though it seemed there was far less clutter than the last time. She flew chaotically back and forth, over lamps and trunks, into the wardrobe and amongst the clothes, causing dust of both the general and pixie varieties to spray about indiscriminately.
“Woof.”
Nana had finally made it to the top of the stairs and sat down on her haunches with resignation, knowing it would do little good to try to physically stop the fairy.
Tinker Bell stopped her buzzing around and hovered in front of the dog, angrily jingling questions.
“Woof…” Nana said, rolling her eyes toward the bureau.
Tinker Bell flew into the half-open top drawer so hard she bonked against