Terry Brooks: The Hook (1991)

"Hello, this is Peter Banning," he greeted. "I'm not in right now-I'm out deliberately avoiding your call. Please leave a 'you know' at the 'right now' and I'll 'do it' when I'm good and ready. Happy thoughts!"

He dropped the phone back into the hole and covered it up again.

Then he started to climb the drainpipe. Up he went, hand over hand, his face flushed and eager. He would not have dreamed of doing such a thing four days and a lifetime of adventures earlier, but things had changed for Peter Banning, even if he wasn't exactly sure what they were or how they had come about.

He reached the nursery windows and tried to push them open. Locked. He tried again. Still locked. He put his face to the glass and peered inside.

There was Wendy embracing Moira, Jack, and Maggie. Something within Peter threatened to break apart, and a memory of another time, long ago, was triggered by what he saw. He couldn't get in to them! He was shut outside once more! His breath fogged the windowpanes as he hung there on the balcony railing, terrified that somehow he was once again too late…

And then he began to pound on the glass, no longer caring what it took, desperate to be inside.

"I'm home!" he cried. "I've come back! Please, let me in!"

They heard him, of course, and Jack bounded to the window. There was a hint of mischief in his elfin face (did it seem suspiciously like Peter's own?), a grin on his lips, and the beginning of tears in his eyes. "Excuse me," he said. "Do you have an appointment?"

Peter grinned back. "Yeah, with you for the rest of my life, you little pirate."

Jack released the latch and swung the windows wide. Peter stepped inside and faced him. They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

Then Peter whispered, "What did I tell you about this window?" He snatched Jack up and hugged him. "Never close it! Always keep it open!"

He whirled Jack about, flying him at arm's length, both of them laughing and shouting.

Maggie bounced up on the bed. "Fly me, too, Daddy! Fly me, too!"

Peter snatched her up and swung her about. "Your wish is my command, Princess!"

Then he set them both down, picked up a startled Moira, and whirled her about as well, lifting her off the floor as if she were a child, his face alive with happiness. She clung to him, shrieking, and when he finally put her down again she threw her arms about him and held him close.

"Peter, oh, Peter," she gasped in relief. "Where have you been?"

But Peter suddenly caught sight of Tootles, peeking around the corner of the bedroom door. He broke from Moira and went to the old man. Tootles smiled shyly and started to leave.

"No," Peter said quietly, and embraced him, drawing him into the room with the others.

"Hello, Pedur," Tootles greeted uncertainly. "I missed the adventure again, didn't I?"

Peter shook his head and smiled back. Then he remembered something. Reaching into his shirt, he pulled out the bag that Thud Butt had given him, loosened the drawstrings, and poured the contents into Tootles' frail, shaking hands.

"I think these belong to you," he whispered.

Tootles's eyes went wide with disbelief. Tears started down his cheeks as he turned to Wendy.

"Look, Wendy. See? I have them again. I didn't lose my marbles after all."

Wendy went to him and hugged him, one hand coming up to smooth his wispy hair. Tootles took the marbles and moved over to the window to view them in the sunlight, murmuring about lost memories, caressing his happy thoughts. A moment later, to everyone's astonishment, he began to rise. He had found a trace of pixie dust at the bottom of the pouch and poured it over himself. Buoyed by his happy thoughts he flew bravely out the window, calling back, "Good-bye! Goodbye!" as he disappeared from sight.

Wendy moved to Peter and took his hand in hers.

"Hullo, boy.".

Peter swallowed. "Hullo, Wendy."

"Boy, why are you crying?"

He smiled. "I'm just happy… to be home."

Wendy moved to embrace him, and as she did she remembered anew what it had been like all those years ago to fly away with Peter Pan to Neverland, to roam the island of pirates and Indians and mermaids, to live beneath the Nevertree and tell stories to the Lost Boys, to be a part of the dreams of childhood and youth and be free of the cares and responsibilities that growing up brought. She wanted to go back in that instant. She would have gone if she could.

"Peter," she whispered. "What of your adventures? Will you miss them?"

He shook his head. "To live," he replied, "will be an awfully big adventure."

And as he said it the last of the night's stare-if that is what it really was-flashed away into the darkness and was gone.