Straight On Till Morning (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,57

dreamed of meeting since she was a very little girl.

“Thank you,” she said aloud, eventually.

Tinker Bell looked at her.

“For saving me,” Wendy elaborated.

Tinker Bell blinked, as if she hadn’t thought about it. Wendy watched expressions flit over her face as quick and transparent as the wings of a dragonfly (or a fairy); there was no need for language. The fairy frowned, obviously recalling details of the previous hour. Then an expression of wonder and an unguarded smile appeared: she did save Wendy, didn’t she? The smile grew into a rosy grin as she remembered her own heroics, a pleased, proud smugness settling over her features.

Finally she looked up at Wendy—as if just remembering that the person she had saved was still there. And perhaps that person was someone she didn’t want to like.

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. No big deal.

“Well, it meant a lot. To me,” Wendy said, refusing to let her companion retreat so easily from the conversation. “I didn’t think…Well, I didn’t think you were going to come back for me. I had thought you left. For good.”

The fairy flew up toward Wendy’s face, settling inches from her nose. She put her tiny hands on her hips in exasperation.

“Well, really, how was I supposed to know? You’ve made it quite clear that you don’t have the fondest feelings for me. From the moment we first met. You were boxing me about a bit, remember?” She didn’t mean to overemphasize her statement, but she couldn’t help rubbing her arm where the fairy had pinched her extra viciously.

The fairy looked thoughtful.

“Well, you did.”

Tinker Bell really was like a child, Wendy decided. Her intelligence and wisdom in the moment were certainly advanced and adultlike. But anything that required reflecting on previous moments or her own past behavior, any consideration of intangible elements like consequences or empathy, was as impossible as the close observation of a distant world. Tinker Bell of earlier in the day was an entirely different creature from afternoon Tinker Bell, alien and divorced from her.

The fairy looked left and right, as if trying to figure a way out of Wendy’s rather obvious and telling statement. Then she cocked her head, as if remembering something, and opened her mouth, waggling a finger at the human girl.

“I know, I know! I sold Peter’s shadow. I put all of Never Land in danger. I deserve your ire. Which makes it only more likely that you would abandon me to be drowned by the mermaids—especially if it looked hopeless.” Wendy sighed, feeling the heaviness of the last few days fall solidly on her shoulders. “All I ever wanted was to be friends with a fairy, or a mermaid, and go on an adventure. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen. I don’t know how many times I can apologize, Tinker Bell.

“Look, I know I said we shouldn’t discuss him anymore.…But really. Ask yourself. Why do you like Peter Pan?”

The fairy looked up, surprised at the apparent change in conversation.

“Is it because he’s different from everyone you would normally spend time with? Is it because he leads you on great adventures? Is it because he draws you out of your pretty, delicate little bedroom and you get to battle pirates with him and do great things?”

Tinker Bell gave a tiny nod.

“I liked Peter—the idea of Peter—for the exact same reasons. I always dreamed of going on great adventures, of battling pirates, of exploring caves and finding treasures. Because there are no adventures or pirates in London. Not for girls, anyway. All of the stories I read are about boys and men. Oh, there are a few, rare female explorers…but I am not one of them. I need a little help to get going, do you know what I mean? I don’t seem to be able to escape my own bedroom in London without someone giving me a bit of a push. Peter Pan would come and save me from all that dreariness.

“Had I known about you, and how you already had a…relationship with Peter, a strong and—perhaps rightfully—jealous one, I would have been much more careful. But I would still want a Peter Pan. I would still want adventure. But I would in no way have put myself between you and the Peter. Your Peter.”

Tinker Bell frowned as she slowly processed these words.

“Really. You needn’t have hated me,” Wendy said with a wan smile. “You could have just said something like…‘Back off, woman! The fair lad is mine!’ And then