{"id":1235,"date":"2011-11-16T17:57:29","date_gmt":"2011-11-16T23:57:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/?p=1235"},"modified":"2026-07-01T12:37:40","modified_gmt":"2026-07-01T18:37:40","slug":"chapter-two-lost-boy-found","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/chapter-two-lost-boy-found\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter Two: Lost Boy Found"},"content":{"rendered":"

CHAPTER TWO:
\nLost Boy Found<\/strong><\/p>\n

More startled than actually frightened, Peter stumbled to his feet to see the four urchins who had come through the newly destroyed window and were now scattered about his room. Each was scruffier than the last, and their ratty, torn clothing and matted hair made Peter wonder if they\u2019d ever had a bath in their entire lives. Peter couldn\u2019t take his eyes off them, although none of them were paying the slightest bit of attention to Peter. <\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d Peter asked. It seemed as good a question as any, although the answer wouldn\u2019t explain who these boys were or how they had come to be in his room. He couldn\u2019t think of a question that would have covered all of that in one go, so he asked the first thing that came to mind. <\/p>\n

The boys didn\u2019t bother to respond. The tallest of them, a boy with auburn locks and a face full of freckles, was busy trying to reach up to the top of his bookshelf, standing on the tips of his muddy toes. His face brightened when he seemed to find the specific book he was looking for. <\/p>\n

\u201cHere!\u201d said the auburn-haired boy, grabbing the book and tossing clear across the room at another blonde boy who couldn\u2019t have been more than ten years old. Three of them seemed about that age. Perhaps the auburn-haired one was eleven or twelve, but the tiny, dark, African-looking boy rolling around contentedly on the carpet seemed like he may have only been six or seven. The blonde on the receiving end of the flying book was staring at Peter\u2019s framed painting of the Dunnet lighthouse and didn\u2019t even turn his head when the book collided with the back of his head and then fell to the ground. <\/p>\n

\u201cThere!\u201d yelled the auburn haired boy. \u201cYou just let it fall to the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOy! Fletch!\u201d yelled a third sandy-haired boy who was jumping on Peter\u2019s bed. \u201cBishop\u2019s talking to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The blonde boy called Fletch shrugged his shoulders, still not bothering to turn around. \u201cBishop\u2019s always talking to me,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou see how he disrespects me?\u201d Bishop said, directly addressing Peter for the first time. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have to put up with that, should I?\u201d<\/p>\n

Peter didn\u2019t have the presence of mind to come up with an appropriate response. <\/p>\n

\u201cHere now!\u201d Bishop said. \u201cYou just let it fall!\u201d<\/p>\n

Fletch nodded. <\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not right!\u201d Bishop yelled at Fletch. \u201cThat\u2019s a terrible thing to do to a very fine book!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, fine book,\u201d Fletch smirked back. \u201cYou don\u2019t know even know how to read.\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cSo?\u201d said Bishop.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes?\u201d said Fletch. <\/p>\n

\u201cSo what?\u201d asked Bishop.<\/p>\n

Fletch nodded. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sandy-haired boy banged a fist against the wall. \u201cIt\u2019s the right lighthouse; I\u2019m sure of it. I recognize the echo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTastes like the right lighthouse,\u201d said the small boy on the floor as he licked the dusty wood floor. <\/p>\n

\u201cGrim, that\u2019s disgusting,\u201d said the sandy-haired boy.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s how I know it\u2019s the right lighthouse,\u201d said Grim. He coughed, rubbed the end of his tongue with his fingers, and then coughed again. <\/p>\n

\u201cHello?\u201d Peter said to no one in particular, and no one in particular answered him. <\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the right house if Langy says it is,\u201d said Bishop, indicating the sandy-haired boy. <\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s settled then,\u201d Bishop said. <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d replied Langy. <\/p>\n

\u201cThe rightest of right lighthouses,\u201d said Fletch. <\/p>\n

\u201cI like books with birds in them,\u201d Grim said, fingering through the volume that Bishop had dislodged from the top shelf.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, will someone tell me what\u2019s going on?\u201d asked Peter, his voice frantic. <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said Bishop, grabbing the book out of Grim\u2019s hands. \u201cNo birds in here, though.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fletch, still looking at the painting, asked, \u201cWhat\u2019s the book say, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHard to tell,\u201d said Bishop, holding the book upside down. \u201cToo many words.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, all of you,\u201d pleaded Peter, \u201cJust tell me who you are and what you want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Jane?\u201d asked Langy. \u201cWhy isn\u2019t she here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Peter felt all the color drain out of his face. \u201cJane was my mother\u2019s name,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n

\u201cGather round, boys!\u201d Bishop shouted. \u201cThis is the book! The one about us!\u201d<\/p>\n

Fletch snorted. \u201cAnd just how would you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Grim flapped his arms and said \u201cBig sea birds\u201d to nobody in particular. <\/p>\n

Bishop flipped through the pages. \u201cThat\u2019s my picture, innit?\u201d <\/p>\n

Fletch craned his head over Bishop\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s not you; that\u2019s old Tootles,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n

\u201cSo?\u201d said Bishop. <\/p>\n

\u201cSo what?\u201d said Fletch. <\/p>\n

Bishop nodded. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Grim said \u201cWhitey birds!\u201d<\/p>\n

Langy threw up his hands. \u201cLet\u2019s just ask her and be done with it!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cRight,\u201d said Bishop, who looked over at Peter again. \u201cJane. Where is she?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve had enough of this,\u201d Peter said. \u201cWhoever you are and whatever you\u2019re doing, it\u2019s just not right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, what\u2019s not right,\u201d Langy said, taking a step toward Peter, \u201cis you keeping Jane hidden from us when you know right and proper just how late she is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLate,\u201d Peter repeated. \u201cThen you know. Of course you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know!\u201d said Grim, raising his hand. <\/p>\n

\u201cKnow what?\u201d asked Fletch.<\/p>\n

Grim lowered his hand and bowed his head. \u201cI didn\u2019t expect to be called on so soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s enough,\u201d Peter snapped. \u201cYou all have to leave. Now. This very instant.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe do, do we?\u201d laughed Langy. \u201cAnd why is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

No good reason occurred to Peter, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. \u201cI\u2019ve got a gun,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n

And with that, there was instant silence. <\/p>\n

For a moment, Peter thought he had the upper hand, until Grim let out a giggle and said, \u201cGolly! Peter\u2019s got a gun!\u201d<\/p>\n

Howls of laughter filled the room as each of the four boys took turns playing the finger shooter or the victim of the finger bullets. Langy especially seemed to enjoy getting shot in the chest and collapsing in a grand, sweeping motion before leaping back to his feet to aim his finger at Fletch. Bishop tried to shoot Fletch, too, and he got increasingly agitated as Fletch made it clear that he was only going to acknowledge the imaginary rounds fired from Langy\u2019s finger. Grim wasn\u2019t bothering to aim at anyone; instead, he stared at the ceiling and made \u201cpow. pow\u201d sounds, firing his pretend bullets into the air out of his thumbs instead of his finger. That, too, seemed to disturb Bishop, who kept telling Grim that he was doing it wrong, only to have Grim ignore him completely and continue launching imaginary thumb volleys. <\/p>\n

\u201cStop it!\u201d yelled Peter. Nobody stopped it. Grim did aim one round of shots at the floor instead of the ceiling, but he seemed frustrated that he couldn\u2019t aim his thumbs right when they were pointed down. <\/p>\n

\u201cStop it!\u201d Peter yelled again. <\/p>\n

And, again, nobody stopped it. It wasn\u2019t until Peter darted to the bookshelf, grabbed a dictionary, and hurled it smack into Langy\u2019s face. Langy let out a small yelp and covered his nose as the other three gasped. <\/p>\n

Langy\u2019s lower lip began to tremble, and a drop of water started to gather in the corner of his eye. Then he sank to the floor and started wailing like a wounded animal as his three friends swarmed around him in an attempt to console the inconsolable. Grim kept saying, \u201cthere, there,\u201d and patting him on the head as if he were a puppy, while Bishop ripped a page out of the dictionary and used it to wipe Langy\u2019s nose. <\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a monster,\u201d Langy sputtered through heaving sobs. \u201cThey turned our Peter into a monster.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I\u2019ve had just about enough of this!\u201d Peter said. \u201cI\u2019m not \u2018your Peter.\u2019 I don\u2019t have any idea who you are, or how you know my name, or – \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot our Peter?\u201d asked Grim, cocking his head. \u201cWho\u2019s Peter are you, then?\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cNever mind. We don\u2019t need him anymore,\u201d Bishop said. \u201cHe\u2019s just a grown-up now. Somebody go find Jane.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s dead,\u201d Peter said flatly. <\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s late is what she is,\u201d Fletch shot back. \u201cShe should have come for her spring cleaning ages ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s not going anywhere,\u201d Peter said. <\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yeah?\u201d Fletch snarled as he stood up to face off with Peter. \u201cAnd who\u2019s going to keep her from us? You? Your gun? Some more big fat books?\u201d That was enough to elicit another melodramatic howl from Langy. <\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t you hear me?\u201d Peter said. \u201cJane\u2019s not going anywhere. She can\u2019t. She\u2019s dead.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, you told us that already,\u201d said Fletch. \u201cAnd our house is dirty. So you know what that means.\u201d<\/p>\n

When it became clear Fletch was waiting for a response, Peter answered, \u201cNo, I\u2019m afraid I don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I\u2019m afraid of spiders,\u201d Fletch countered, his eyes narrowing. <\/p>\n

Peter raised an eyebrow. \u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n

Fletch stepped in closer. \u201cSo what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019m asking.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you asking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m asking why I should care that you\u2019re afraid of spiders.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t mention spiders!\u201d Fletch said, recoiling. \u201cI\u2019m afraid of them.\u201d Then he scampered back to Langy\u2019s side.
\nGrim stopped patting Langy on the head and looked at Peter with plaintive eyes. \u201cWhy aren\u2019t you our Peter anymore?\u201d Grim asked. <\/p>\n

Peter just looked at him, dumbstruck. He was no longer scared of these loopy intruders, but he could find no proper frame of reference into which to understand this experience. He was beginning to wonder if real life was always this bizarre, and that maybe he\u2019d just forgotten that along with everything else. <\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a monster,\u201d Langy muttered again. \u201cA monster.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he\u2019s not supposed to be a monster,\u201d said Grim, who picked up the first book that Fletch had grabbed after he\u2019d first crashed through the window. Flipping through the pages, he came upon a picture and said, \u201cTake a look at him. Does that look like a monster to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me see that,\u201d Peter said. He grabbed the book a little too roughly out of Grim\u2019s hands and read the title: Peter and Wendy<\/em> by J.M. Barrie. <\/p>\n

\u201cPeter and Wendy,\u201d he read aloud.<\/p>\n

\u201cWendy doesn\u2019t come anymore,\u201d Grim said. \u201cThat\u2019s why Jane comes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich reminds me, where is Jane?\u201d Bishop asked. \u201cShe\u2019s late.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJane,\u201d Peter said, \u201cAs in Wendy\u2019s daughter. And so you\u2019re supposed to be the Lost Boys?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know whether I\u2019m supposed to be or not,\u201d Grim said. \u201cAlthough I often do I things that I\u2019m not supposed to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Peter shook his head. \u201cI\u2019ve read this book. There\u2019s no one called Grim or Bishop or\u2026 or whatever the other two are called.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would we be in that book? That was about when Wendy came. Now Jane comes, except she\u2019s late. Did she tell you why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re not talking about Jane, my mother. You\u2019re on about some character in a children\u2019s book.\u201d<\/p>\n

Langy\u2019s sob turned to a snort. \u201cYou hear that, boys? Jane, his mother.\u201d<\/p>\n

And then the two boys next to him snorted, and the room filled with laughter again. They started bowing and curtseying, talking in high, snooty voices, saying things like \u201cOooh! I\u2019m Mother Jane! Look at me! A mother!\u201d But this time, Grim didn\u2019t join in. \u201cYou\u2019re ignorant!\u201d he yelled. The others ignored him. \u201cI\u2019m a mother,\u201d Bishop trilled. \u201cA motherrrr! Care for a cup of tea?\u201d<\/p>\n

Grim walked to the other side of the room, jumped up on Peter\u2019s bed, and struck a pose with his hands on his hips. \u201cListen to me, you ignorant slugs!\u201d he screamed. <\/p>\n

The room again fell silent, and all eyes turned to Grim. <\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing wrong with wanting a mother,\u201d Grim said. \u201cPeter wanted one. Jane wanted to be one. Sometimes I even want one. What do you have to say about that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis,\u201d said Fletch, who then blew him a noisy raspberry as the other Lost Boys cackled. <\/p>\n

\u201cNow Grim wants a motherrrrr,\u201d Langy laughed, raising his voice into a high falsetto on the last word. Then he and Bishop and Fletch went back to their screechy little pantomime, with Grim yelling \u201cignorant!\u201d over and over again, all the while jumping up and down on Peter\u2019s mattress. <\/p>\n

Then Peter raised his hand and yelled, \u201cHold it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The reaction wasn\u2019t instant the way it had been when Grim had demanded attention, but after a moment or two, the boys calmed down enough to let Peter say his peace.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is madness,” Peter said. “Simply madness. I don\u2019t know how you got here; I\u2019m not quite sure what it is you want, but if I have any wits left me at all, I know that my mother was a real person, not a storybook character, and I think it shows extremely poor taste and disrespect for the dead the way you are behaving, and I\u2019m sure if I could remember more about her and -\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t remember?\u201d Bishop asked. \u201cYou don\u2019t remember Jane?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but that still doesn\u2019t mean you can just \u2013\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t remember us?\u201d asked Langy.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo I remember you? I don\u2019t understand. Should I remember you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Peter thought Grim was about to cry when he asked his next question.<\/p>\n

\u201cPeter Pan, \u201c he said, \u201cyou don\u2019t remember me<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"CHAPTERTWO:Lost Boy Found<\/strong>More startled than actually frightened, Peter stumbled to his feet to see the four urchins who had come through the newly destroyed window and were now scattered about his room. Each was scruffier than the last, and their ratty, torn clothing and matted hair made Peter wonder if they\u2019d ever had ... Read more<\/a>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1235","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1235","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1235"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1235\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5029,"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1235\/revisions\/5029"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1235"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1235"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stallioncornell.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1235"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}