Terry Brooks - The Hook (1991)

Hook flailed, making the crocodile clock rock dangerously. He screamed like a madman. Finally he wrenched free, but his efforts snapped the last of the crocodile's fastenings and it began to fall toward him. Hook tried to run, but ended up stumbling over the fallen clock. He lay thrashing, horror mirrored in his red eyes. The crocodile was descending, its jaws cracked wide.

Hook gasped. Down came the crocodile with a crash.

And Captain James Hook disappeared down its throat with a gulp.

After the dust had settled, they all walked forward to peer into the crocodile's jaws. One after another they bent down for a look, amazement on their faces.

Captain Hook was gone.

"Where'd he go?" Maggie wanted to know. But no one had an answer.

Then the cry of "victory banquet" went up again, and everyone began to parade about the fallen crocodile, shouting and cheering, "No more Hook!" and "Hurray for the Pan Man!"

Peter led the procession, caught up in the celebration, unaware that time was catching up to him once again.

"Let's go sink some mermaids!" Don't Ask suggested. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

"No!" Latchboy said. "Let's draw a circle in the ground and dare lions to cross it!"

"I want to bake a cake and feed it to the Neverbird!" No Nap said.

"But we've got to dress up like pirates and sack the ship first!" Ace declared.

They all joined in, each with his own suggestion for what they should do next. Peter began shouting suggestions of his own, a little boy himself again for just a moment.

But then he glanced over to where Jack and Maggie stood watching, Tink hanging in the air above them, and he knew that his adventures were over for now and it was time to go home.

He held up his hands and the cheering died. Lost Boy faces peered up at him.

"I can't stay," he told them. "I've done what I came to do, and now I have to go back." The joy faded from their faces. "I have to go home."

"But Peder, this is your bomb," Pockets insisted.

"Yeah, this is where Peter Pan belongs," Thud Butt agreed.

Peter smiled. "No, not anymore. You see, I've grown up. And once you grow up, you have to stay that way. You can keep a little part of what's inside a boy; you can remember what it's like. But you can't go all the way back."

He turned from them and walked to where Jack and Maggie waited. He knelt before them. "Tink, dust them," he ordered. "A little traveling magic." He took their hands in his. "All you have to do is think one happy thought, and you'll fly like me."

Tink flew past in a sweeping arc, scattering pixie dust as she went. It settled over Jack and Maggie, who closed their eyes.

"Mommy!" said Maggie, and she smiled.

Jack's eyes opened, and he looked at Peter. "My dad, Peter Pan," he whispered.

Then up they went, all three, as light as feathers on the summer air. Tink led the way, a bit of spinning brightness in the sunlight. Below, the Lost Boys stood gathered, staring solemnly skyward. A few hands lifted tentatively, waving good-bye.

Peter glanced behind, hesitated in mid-flight, then placed Maggie's hand in Jack's and called Tink back.

"You know the way home, Tink. Take Jack and Maggie on ahead. I'll be right behind."

He watched them fly away, then settled down once more amid the Lost Boys.

"Don't leave us, Peter," Thud Butt pleaded. "Stay in Neverland."

He saw the confusion in their faces. "I have a wife and children who need me," he said quietly. "I belong with them."

"But we need you, too," Too Small sniffed.

Peter picked him up and hugged him. "The Lost Boys don't need anyone," he told them. "You have each other and Neverland, and that's more than enough."

"You'll forget us again," Ace declared solemnly.

"Not this time," Peter promised. "Never again.''

"But you're our leader," Thud Butt insisted.

"Not anymore," Peter told him. He handed over the Pan sword. Thud Butt gasped. "You're the Pan now." He tried a comforting grin. "At least until I come back."

"Will you comb back?" Pockets asked in a small voice.

Peter met the sad, dark face and nodded, "One day," he whispered.

He went to each of them then, to Latchboy, Don't Ask, No Nap, Ace, Thud Butt, Pockets, Too Small, and all the rest, giving each a handclasp and a hug. Some cried. It was all Peter could do to finish.

"Thank you," he told them. "You helped me save my kids from Hook. You helped me to become Peter Par) again. 1 won't ever forget."

Then he lifted away into the cloudless blue sky. He rose, dipped, and swung back again, passing one final time over the gathered Lost Boys. Thud Butt raised the Pan sword in salute. Ace blew the antler horn. Don't Ask, No Nap, and Latchboy raised their hands and waved.

Too Small was crying. "That was a great game, Peter!" he called.

Peter gave a crow in reply, long and piercing, then turned toward the setting sun and flew away.

Thud Butt put his arm about Pockets and gave him a quick hug. There were tears in the other's eyes.

"Imb miss hib alreddy," Pockets whispered.

Farther out, close to the mouth of the harbor and facing back toward the smoking Jolly Roger, Smee looked up from the dinghy he rowed. Resting his oars momentarily, he watched Peter Pan fly past and disappear into the distance.

"Aye, doesn't it jus' send ye o'er the moon," he said, and sniffed. "Poor Cap'n Hook, he alwus 'ated 'appy endings."

He shifted to a more comfortable position amid the piles of treasure he had appropriated. The trio of mermaids settled at his feet smiled up at him, playing with the gold bracelets on their wrists and the silver rings on their fingers. A fish tail lifted and tickled his chin, causing him to blush.

"Ah, well." He sighed, picking up the oars and beginning to row.

As he did, one of the mermaids found the spare concertina he had scavenged and began to play. Smee sang.

"Yo, ho! Yo, ho! Yo, ho, for a pirate's life!"

An Awfully Big Adventure

And so we come to the final chapter of our story, the one in which we tidy up all the loose ends much in the manner of mothers who straighten up their children's thoughts while they sleep. Traditionally it is not a chapter in which a great deal happens, all the excitement having taken place earlier, but is instead a time for settling back and reflecting. It is also a time for coming home from wherever one has gone, for taking delight in the simple pleasures that ends to journeys bring. So while some would skip on to the beginning of a new tale, those who understand the truths that embody Peter Pan will want to stick around to share in the Banning family's well-deserved garnering of warm fuzzies.

Peter and the children flew all night through the stars that led homeward, guided by Tink's small light pulsing like a beacon. Once or twice Peter was tempted to deviate from his course just long enough to sneak up behind a star and attempt to blow out its light (for old times' sake), but it would have meant staying his homecoming that much longer, and he was too anxious to suffer further delays. He spent his time holding his children close and telling them all the stories he had never shared, the ones that had disappeared from his life over the years, locked away in the adult that had no time for such nonsense. He hugged and kissed them frequently, as if afraid he might never get the chance again, and they laughed at silly nothings and foolish looks. At times they spoke of where they had gone and what they had seen and done, but yawns and the wind's lullabies made recollection difficult, and the words seemed to stray off by themselves like sheep from an untended flock.

Toward dawn, with most of the stars disappeared into the brightening sky and the moon dropped below the horizon, Kensington Gardens came into view, steepled roofs and brick chimneys shrouded in tattered winter mist. Peter's eyes grew so heavy then that he could no longer keep them open.