Chapter 10 - Hope

 

Peter was fairly depressed the next day, but he tried to hide it.  He kept thinking about the night before:  the music, the memories, the images of his friends in Hook’s journal, and the Captain’s fresh reminder that Peter was merely a trophy, nothing more significant than plunder he might have taken from a ship.  But he tried to keep his spirits up.  He was attentive in his lessons, did his chores with no arguments, and completed his tasks well.  He and Billy even horsed around a bit, as they usually did, but Peter couldn’t put his heart into it.  The crew saw through the façade, at least the old crew did.  The biggest tell that the boy was forcing himself to act this way was this:  he said ‘sir’ without fail to Hook.  The hardest thing for Peter to remember was to address the Captain properly, mainly because he didn’t want to show the man the respect he hadn’t earned from Peter.  He was usually chastised or even punished at least twice a day for that transgression, but by midday he had not committed a single infraction. 

Things changed over lunch.  Peter found that he couldn’t stomach the food, no matter how hard he pretended, below deck.  The dark and the smells on the ship were starting to get to him, and it made him nauseous today to try to eat in the kitchen.  So, he and Billy carried their food to the deck to eat in the fresh air.  Fortunately, it was a bright, clear day, perfect for a ‘picnic’. 

“Ow!” Peter cried.  He had bitten into a piece of hardtack, and felt a sharp pain in his mouth.  He spit the food back out into his palm, and stared in horror at seeing his front tooth lying there, too.

Billy saw the look on Peter’s face and became alarmed.  “What’s wrong, cully?”  Peter held out his hand for Jukes to see the tooth. 

“It came out!  What do I do?” he gasped.

Billy laughed when he saw the tooth and the gap in Peter’s mouth.  “Hey everybody, look!  Peter lost a tooth!”

“What?” Hook called, striding towards the boys.  Surely he doesn’t have scurvy? I haven’t noticed any symptoms.  “Open your mouth, Peter.”  Peter complied, opening wide and not flinching when Hook examined his teeth and gums.  “You’ve got a new tooth coming in, that’s why this one fell out.”  He saw that Peter still had an alarmed, confused look on his face, and suddenly had a thought.  “Have you ever lost a tooth before?”

“No, sir.  I didn’t know that people could lose them.  Is this supposed to happen?” Peter said slowly.

“Aren’t you a little old to be just losing your first tooth?” Mr. Little asked as he joined the circle of pirates listening to the conversation.  “You should be getting the last of your permanent teeth by now.”

Hook chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair.  “Peter’s not done many things he should have done by now.  But we are working on it.  Yes Peter, this is supposed to happen.  Are there any more loose ones?”  Peter felt around for a bit, then nodded.  “Good!  Congratulations, boy!  You’re growing up!  You’ll be losing more baby teeth, but your adult teeth will grow in soon enough.”

Peter stood staring, very white.  No, it can’t be true.  I’m not meant to grow up!  It was forbidden!  He’d been able to dismiss the evidence before, when Smee had unrolled his pants and shirt some and re-hemmed them.  He had convinced himself that his clothes had merely shrunk.  But now, his own body was giving him proof that he was aging.

“Put it under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will come visit ya!” Mr. Davis teased.  Suddenly, he found himself dangling from Hook’s hook, staring into the Captain’s flaming eyes.

“There will be no talk of fairies on my ship!” Hook stated coldly.  “You new men and I have some things to discuss in reference to my cabin boy.  There are rules I have yet to tell you of, but I shall rectify that in a little while.”  He dropped Davis and turned to Peter.  He saw hope in the boy’s eyes and knew he had to crush it. 

“Give me the tooth, Peter,” he said coolly.

Peter backed up a step and clutched the tooth tightly in his hand.  He glared at Hook and shook his head no.  When the Captain moved to grab him, he ducked and ran.

“Get me that boy!  And his tooth!” Hook roared as he pursued the fleeing child.

Peter knew he only had the slimmest of chances, but he wouldn’t give up without a fight.  If he could summon a fairy with his tooth, she could tell the other fey that he was still alive!  They would come for him and take him home!  His hope gave him strength and speed and he was able to dodge the pirates for a long time.  He went up the rigging for awhile, and when most of the men were in it, he swung down to the deck so swiftly some thought he was either flying or falling. 

Peter dashed below decks, knocking Cookson over and hiding among the stores.  When the crew followed, Hook stopped short and held back Mason and Jukes.  He motioned for the other two to hide, and once the last of the rest of the men were below, the deck appeared abandoned.  Sure enough, after several minutes, Peter crept out of the hatch, looked around, then closed and locked the door.  He quickly made his way to the cabin, but before he got there, Jukes and Mason stepped out and blocked his path.  He turned quickly and found himself facing Hook’s belt buckle.  He froze and a large, familiar hand gripped his shoulder and held him fast. 

He was lifted up to stare into Hook’s extremely angry eyes.  “Give me the tooth.  Now,” the man growled.  Peter hesitated and Hook backhanded him.  The blow stunned him and he dropped the tooth to the deck.

“What will it take?” Hook asked him quietly, “I’ve tried kindness and I’ve tried cruelty.  Nothing works.  ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child’.” 

Peter took a moment to gather himself and stared back at the pirate.  For a moment he thought the man looked hurt.  He made a wry face and shook his head slowly.  “Thankless?  What have you done that I should be thankful for?” he countered just as quietly.

“What have I done?” Hook looked incredulous.  “I have done everything for you!  I have treated you as a crewman!  I have succored you when you were ill and injured, and given you comfort when you were sad.  I have taken your education into my own hands and given you the tools with which you can make a place for yourself in the world.”

“My hurts and sickness were given to me by you,” Peter screamed.  “You took me from my home.  Neverland was my world, my life, and you ripped it away!  I was happy.  I was healthy.  I was free and I was loved… but not anymore.  I have no joy left in my life, and I can feel myself dying a bit more each day.  You call me a crewman, but I’m your prize, and no more than a prisoner.  And no-one here loves me.”  Peter’s voice cracked and he stopped.  He hung from the hook unresisting and waited for the punishment he knew would come next. 

Hook sighed in exasperation and looked at Mason.  “Let those fools out, and tell everyone to get back to work.  I will deal with my cabin-boy when I’m less likely to do him permanent harm.”

Mason crossed the deck to the hatch quickly and loosened the bar.  Without a second glance back, Hook set the boy down, grabbed the tooth from the deck, and dragged Peter to his cabin. 

“I seriously do not know what I am going to do with you, Peter,” Hook growled as he shut his door.  He crossed to his desk and sat in his chair.

“I thought you had this all figured out, Captain,” Pan said insolently.  “You had everything else so carefully planned, and got away with me.”  Peter thought back to that fateful day, and absently tugged on his earring.  “I thought you wanted to make me into everything I hated, to make me betray myself and become like you.”

“That was my intention at first.  I still intend to make you like me, but for an entirely different reason.”  Hook saw the confused look on Peter’s face and continued, “When you claimed to not fear death, because as a child you would go to heaven, you spoiled any satisfaction I could ever get in killing you.  So I decided to find a way to force you to live, and grow up, and become like me… and make you suffer through all the pain and misery of growing up and growing old.  Taking your life would not have pained you as much as taking your youth and innocence.  But the blasted fairy magic that I needed to pull you away changed things.  I still intend for you to grow up, boy, never doubt that.  But I do not wish to see you suffer to do it.  I want you to become the man I envisioned, as I told you before.  Not to make you betray who you were, but to realize the potential you were born with.  I don’t want to punish you, Peter.  I want you to adjust and to do what you’re expected.  I want you to learn what you need to become a powerful, respected Captain in your own time.”

“I don’t want to be a pirate.  Not right now.  I can’t let a chance to go home slip by.  You know I won’t give up, while I think there’s still a chance,” Pan said, standing up straight and proud.

“I know, and I don’t expect any less from you.  I would have been disappointed if you had just handed the damned tooth to me.  But, at the same time, I cannot allow you to flaunt my orders and disobey me, especially in front of the new crewmen.  I won’t be able to keep order if they think a mere cabin-boy can make a fool of me and my whole crew without punishment,” Hook said sternly, waiting for the boy to protest.

But Peter did not.  This last chance came to me unlooked-for.  Others will come, and I’ll try again.  Maybe I can steal my tooth back, or Hook will lose count and I can keep one of mine.  I’ll find a way.  “Ay, sir.  I won’t give up.  But I’ve lost this time,” suddenly he had a thought of Hook making him walk the plank or keel-hauling him for punishment.  Hook would kill any of his crew that did what I did.  “Wh-what are you going to do to me?” he asked, trying to sound unconcerned, but failing.  Most of the times his punishments were not severe, merely annoying or embarrassing, but if Hook saw this as a serious transgression, he could very well not wake up, or not wake up intact. 

Hook saw the boy’s worry and smiled.  There’s the touch of fear I need in him.  It’s just a touch, to make him compliant, but not too much and make him cower.  “For a crewman to do what you did, at the least he would taste the cat.  Most likely I’d have him thrown overboard.  But you, boy are a special case, and I will make sure the crew realize that your special status is not an enviable position.  You’ll get ten lashes, more if you resist further.  In addition, I will be adding new lessons to your school-load, and you will get extra chores for two weeks – none of which will be with Mr. Jukes, since the two of you have quit trying to kill each other and now are inexplicably best of friends.  I still do not quite understand that, perhaps you can explain one day how you always seem to get people to like you.  You’ll be helping Cookson in the kitchen, and an extra time with the bilge pump.  Now, I consider this light punishment, no doubt the rest of the men will too.”

Peter stared at the floor.  At least he didn’t beat me up when he finally caught me, or I’d be waking in the brig again with more broken ribs… or worse.  As he always did when he remembered something painful that Hook had done to him, he lightly rubbed the almost-healed cross-bones on his breast.  “More lessons, Captain?  I don’t think I can learn much more before my head’s full,” he said with a groan.

Hook stared at Peter, flabbergasted.  I give him chores and lashes, and he complains of schooling?  Perhaps I should consider school work more often for his punishments.  He’ll learn more.  “Don’t worry, boy, you’re head is empty enough, I could never fill it in both our lifetimes.  Besides, I think you might not hate the new lessons as much as you think you will.  But that’s for later.  The men are expecting judgment, and we had best not keep them waiting.”

He herded the downcast boy back out onto the deck.  He stood the boy before the assembled crew on deck and called out his sentence.  “You, Mr. Pan, are guilty of disobeying the Captain’s orders and of attempting to escape.  For the first offense, you shall receive no less than 10 lashes, administered by myself.  For the second offense, you shall be given extra duties for a duration of two weeks, plus more special tasks that I will assign you.  If you have the energy to run about on ship and lead my crew on a merry chase, then you shall work off that energy in the kitchen and the bilge.  Mr. Mullins, make him ready for his first punishment!”

“Lad, you really need to learn.  Don’t worry ‘bout yellin’, we’ve all tasted the cat afore, and none of us will think less of ya if ya cry,” Mullins muttered to the boy as he led him to the mast.  He took the boy’s shirt from him and set it aside as he reached for the rope. 

Peter turned to look at the men that were staring at him, and none of the new crew missed the Captain’s insignia on his chest.  Mr. Little frowned, and looked from the boy to the Captain, and then saw that his own old shipmates looked back at him in concern.  What kind of man brands a child like that?  He seemed rather fond of the boy last night.  Then Mullins had the boy facing the mast, and bound his arms around it so that he hugged the wood tightly.  Hook flogged Peter, but held himself back enough that he took off no more skin than he had to.  He couldn’t go light on the boy, as a part of him wished, but neither could he take the hide off the lad’s back as another part of him urged. 

Peter, for his own part, tried to show his fortitude by not crying out.  But, as the last few strokes crisscrossed other scratches on his back, he couldn’t help himself.  But he held back his tears, and when it was done and Mullins untied him, he stood up straight and faced the men again.  I’ve changed my mind, Peter thought as he suppressed his tears, I’d rather have the lessons than the lashes.  He glanced at Hook, who was putting away the flail, and that part of him that hated the man surged forward.  He shook it away after a moment, knowing that Hook had not hurt him as much as he could have (would have if this had been two months ago).   

“Come on, then lad,” Smee soothed as he took Peter by the arm.  “Down to th’ brig, and I’ll put sumpthin on that to cool it off a bit…”

“No,” Hook said coldly, stopping the two in their tracks, “my quarters.  Tend his back there.  He’s got more loose teeth in that empty head of his.  I don’t want him losing one and bringing one of those damned pixies here!  I’m keeping count of his teeth, and I don’t want him trying anything else stupid.”

“Ay, Cap’n.  C’mon lad,” Smee led Peter to his cot, taking the salve that Jukes had gone to fetch (instead of watching Peter being lashed).  Once there, Peter laid face down on the bed and gritted his teeth while Smee put the ointment on his back.  It stung, a lot, being the same stuff Smee had put on his foot and chest before, but as usual, it eased the pain and soon his back was nearly numb.  While Smee administered to him, Hook and Mr. Little entered.

“Sit, Little.  Ignore them,” Hook waited for compliance, and then continued.  “You heard my men telling tales of a place called Neverland last night.  An island, where mythical creatures like fairies and mermaids lived, and children flew and never aged.”

“Ay, I heard them.  Good stories, too.  Once could almost believe them, the way the men told them,” Little replied.

“It’s true,” Hook said simply. 

Little looked at the man in alarm.  Surely he jests… no, I can see in his face he believes what he says.  I hope I have not thrown in my lot with a madman!  “That’s not possible, sir,” he said, not bothering to contain his disbelief.

“Ay, it is.  My men and I endured that place for an untold length of time while I pursued my revenge.  You see, I lost my hand there.”

“I wondered at that, and figured we would hear a tale of that last night.  But strangely, your men did not speak on it.”

“The whelp lying on that bunk there did it!” Hook yelled, slamming his hook onto the desk.  Recounting the story stirred his ill feelings toward Peter, but he forced himself to calm down when he saw the child on the cot cringe at his outburst.  “He lived there, and led a gang of boys, called Lost Boys.  They inhabited it with a tribe of Indians and a host of fairy creatures.  Because of the magic that created that place, the children could never grow up.  When exposed to magical pixie-dust, they could fly to great heights and considerable distances. 

“On our first day at the island, Peter and I clashed.  I underestimated him, severely.  I assumed him a mere child, and did not realize how dangerous he was.  We fought horribly, and he cut off my hand.  What’s worse, he fed it to a crocodile, which happened to be the largest one on the island.  That croc hunted for the rest of me until the day I left.  I swore vengeance, and spent the remainder of my time there fighting that boy.”

Little looked at the small pale child lying on the cot and shook his head in disbelief.  “Frankly, sir, he doesn’t look like much.”

“Ay, I’ve clipped his wings.  We fought for a long time.  I think we were there for many years – but none of us aged.  Time is meaningless here in the fairy realm.  Finally, one day, I found the magic to cut him away from the island and bring him with us.  I wanted revenge, and what better vengeance for an eternal child that to grow him up.  He no longer flies, and he can never go back.  I have made him a full member of my crew, though he is a hostile one and bears watching.  You and your men will keep a lookout for him, but none may torment him.  He is my prize, to do with as I please.  He is formidable, and I have to tame him properly.”

“How old is he?  To have only lost his first tooth today, children are usually five or six when that happens,” Little mused.  Peter turned his face from the wall to watch them.

“I don’t know.  He’s apparently done most of his growing in Neverland, and that was done irregularly.  He appears to be ten, but he could be older or younger,” Hook explained, but Peter interrupted him.

“I was an infant longer than you were a child.  I was five for a lifetime or three.  I missed six and seven, maybe eight too.  I flew through the Never-trees before even Mr. Smee was born.  Tootles, the last to join me, flew with me before James Hook drew breath.  Your parents whispered of me and held you all tight, fearful I would come collect you,” Peter chanted in a flat dull voice, a distant look in his eyes.

“Lad, are ya alright?” Smee asked.  He laid his hand on the boy’s back and Peter startled.  He blinked as if just awakening, and turned his head back to face the wall.

Hook and Little stared at the boy awhile longer, lost in their own thoughts.  Hook wondered what Peter might have been remembering before Smee distracted him.  Little began to wonder if maybe the Captain was being serious, because the boy definitely seemed strange. 

“If he’s so dangerous, sir, why keep him?” Little said suddenly, breaking the silence. 

“He cannot kill me.  The magic I used binds him to me, and he is unable to break it.  I want him to grow.  I want to raise him, and make him into the greatest pirate to sail the seas.  He has the ability, I’ve seen it.”

“If he hates you, it will be difficult.”

“No,” Hook said with a bit of a sigh, “If he hates me that will make it easiest.”  The problem is that I find it harder everyday to hate him back.  He shook his head.  “I want you to tell your men what I have said.  Remind them that he is a crewmate, not a slave or a prisoner, and he is MY cabin-boy.  My old crew has grown fond of him, and they will not tolerate him being harmed.”

“My fellows will not harm him.  I will vouch for most of them.  But watch Mr. Davis, he was a bully and a thief on the old ship, and I like him not.”  With that, Hook dismissed the man and Little left.

When Smee had finished, Peter sat up carefully and eased his shirt back on.  He turned to the captain, who was watching him intently, and returned the stare for awhile.

“Is it true?” he asked suddenly

“Is what true?” Hook returned.

“’My old crew has grown fond of him’,” he mimicked Hook’s voice perfectly.

“I haven’t heard you do that in awhile, boy,” Hook said softly.

“Ay, lad, it’s true,” interrupted Smee.  “We all like ya well enough, and we’ve accepted ya as shipmate.  We jus’ wish ya wassn’t so troublesome.  And some o’ us fear ya might be breakin’ loose one night, and murderin’ us in our sleep afore ya flies off.”

Peter looked at Smee, anxious that the old man harbored such thoughts.  He grasped Smee’s arm and gave him a small smile, “You and the men needn’t fear me. I’ll not hurt them, unless they tried to hurt me.”

“Peter,” Hook called, sparing the bos’un from having to reply.  Peter looked towards the man and waited.  “Whenever you lose a tooth, you will bring it directly to me.  I’ll give you a coin in trade for it, as the tooth fairy is reputed to do.  I don’t know if she is real, but I will take no chances.  I will be checking your mouth every night, to make sure.”

“Ay, sir,” Peter replied sullenly.

“Smee, back to your station.  Peter, you’re excused from duty today.  Now tell me, have you ever played chess?”

Peter frowned at the sudden change of subject.  “Chess?  Is that a game?”

“Yes, a game.  I have an old set that I have not used in many years.  No one of my old crew had wit enough to make the game interesting.  You, however, were always a good strategist.  If you want, I will show you how to play.  You won’t have to face the men for awhile if we play,” Hook offered, going to his trunk to pull out the set.  Besides, I want your mind to remain sharp.  You should have been able to avoid me and my men for much longer than that today, but you were sloppy.  You haven’t had the mental exercises you need since you came aboard, besides memorizing lessons.

Peter, however, was smiling.  Play a game?  I didn’t think I ever would again.  And to match wits with Hook… “Yes, sir.  I’d like to learn to play it.”

“Sit, then, and I’ll show you how this goes.” 

They played several matches until time for Peter’s evening lessons and supper, and Hook won all of them.  But Peter was a fast learner, especially when he was challenged.  This game involved more strategy than he ever had to use before, but he relished the battle.  He vowed he would master the game, and focused all of his attention on the board and questioned Hook about strategies.  They played again before bedtime (Peter asked to play again instead of hearing a story), and Hook found himself greatly challenged by the sharp child.

Formidable, indeed, thought Hook as he lay in bed that night.  Peter was asleep, and despite they day’s events, he hadn’t cried before dropping off.  He is fast and he is cunning.  He is proud and he has spirit.  He has skill with a blade, but that needs honing.  I could do so much with him.  Together, we would rule the seas!