�Oh Peter. I always loved it when you were taller than me! What shall we do first? Should we begin Spring Cleaning? I could use something to eat. Have you captured any pirates lately? Are there any new Lost Boys? Where are you living at now? Where is Tinkerbell?�
He laughed again, �Girls talk too much! I don�t know a Tinkerbell, but you should tell me the story later.�
But I think, perhaps, that Peter liked that about Wendy, and in the end he gave her a marching tour of the whole island, ending at his newest hide-out. It was a tree house, high above the ground in the realm of the fairies. And even though Wendy had had poor experiences with Tinkerbell, she still loved fairies, and especially, she loved to talk about them.
�Oh. I wish I had my very own fairy at home. I should love the company. It gets so lonely with the boys gone. I do wish you would come for me more often.�
�I had to, Wendy,� said Peter, indignantly, �I haven�t any pockets left at all.�
She giggled, �Then we simply must make sure that pocket sewing is on the agenda. Here, now. Let us race to the top!� She beheld the tall tree standing in front of her. It had sprawling roots and a thick trunk. It might have been the same kind that Wendy�s treasure box used to be, but she was uncertain. The branches were easy enough to climb and she did so quickly. But Peter, with his awesome power of flight, was easily declared winner. �You ought to give girls a head start, you know,� but Wendy didn�t mind, really.
�Well,� she said, ready to get started, �Let us fix you some pockets. I shall need a handful of leaves, and you must take off your shirt for me to sew it on.�
It seemed an innocent enough request, and Peter laughed. He was very glad to have Wendy around again, and he seemed to delight in showing off, hovering just off the floor and doing flips and summersaults and stopping suddenly in midair. �Sure thing, Mrs. Wendy, shall I call up the children?�
Now it was her turn to laugh. They often played that they were married (it had been her idea, of course) but now it seemed odd to her that he should start that game up on his own. Usually she had to coax or fool him. It pleased her, though, to play along, �Yes, dearest, do call up the children!�
From Peter�s lips came a sharp whistle�the kind that might remind one of an angry thrush being chased by a dog�and several other whistles answered, although none of them as shrill as Peters. A moment later, it seemed that children were crawling in from every crevasse in the tree house. Then they stood before Peter in a straight line with their chests and chins at attention.
Since Wendy had been to Neverland, four boys had been forgotten by their mothers and had become the new Lost Boys. This might have explained why Peter hadn�t come for her these past years. It seemed to her that perhaps he sometimes only called upon her if he had no one else to play with. It made her cheeks blush to think of this, and then to remember that she, at the very least, was the only girl he ever called upon to play.
The boys were disheveled. Mismatched socks, wolf-skin shirts, leaves and berry juices were what held the boys together. There was a dreadful need of repairs all around.
�Haven�t we fine children, Mrs. Wendy?�
She smiled, �O yes, dearest, very fine. Now if only I could remember all of their names!�
�Well, listen closely. There�s Mellow, the tall one�Prickles is the one with short hair�Sticky is always at his side�then there�s�� Peter snapped his fingers impatiently. The last boy was almost as tall as Wendy, and seemed too old to be a lost boy. When it seemed that Peter had forgotten his name, the boy cut in, �Phillip, sir.�
�Yeah, Phillip. He�s new. I think he still remembers his mother.� This last piece was whispered to Wendy. �Ok, boys! I�ve brought you a mother! She is Wendy and you must listen to her as you�d listen to me.�
The boys looked surprised. Had Peter really brought them a mother?
Mellow may have been the tallest, but he was also sharp, �I thought that we didn�t need a mother, Peter?�
�Well,� said Wendy, �I shan�t stay forever. Just long enough to tell you stories and sew pockets and do other motherly things. Now I shall ask each of you a question, and you must answer your mother quickly, then give me your shirts and go outside to play. How does that sound?�
