Dirty boys all of them, wearing similar outfits to Peter: leggings and loose tunics decorated with leaves and visible stitching, and a variety of random leather pieces that didn’t seem to really fit them. Across their chests, some of them wore a haphazardly painted moon, drawn with the same messy yellow paint that had marked the flag. They stared at Wendy, and she felt the eyes of each boy: piercing, judgmental, and foreign. Their faces contorted between fascination, anger, and confusion as they looked at the strange girl standing in pajamas in their midst. Wendy suddenly felt very naked.
“I said,” yelled the boy in the front, small but bulky, with a tangle of red hair. “What’s SHE doing hyah?”
Wendy instinctively took a step backward, so that John stood in front of her. John looked amused at her discomfort. Peter stepped up to the front of the platform and raised his hands. The rumbling crowd of dirty boys below fell into a reverent silence. He grinned and spoke.
“Boy oh boy, I missed my boys!” The boys erupted into cheers, several of them crowing into their hands. “And I have good news for you boys! I have found two more brave soldiers to join our ranks, two more men to stand at our side when we knock on Hook’s door!” He grabbed John’s hand and raised it up. “This is John! He’s very smart. In fact, he’s so smart that I have decided to make him a General!” There was an audible whisper that ran through the crowd. Many of the smaller boys jumped up and down with excitement, but Wendy noted that several did not, most noticeably three older boys who stood at the front, arms crossed at the chest, two of them staring at John with sneers of contempt.
“And this . . .” Peter swept Michael out of Wendy’s arms and held him up in front of the crowd. “Is baby Michael!” Michael scowled at being called a baby, but he obviously loved the roaring of the crowd at his name. He wiggled and waggled in Peter’s arms.
Peter put him down gently and reached his palm out to Wendy. “And now I have one more person to introduce to you.” Tentatively, Wendy put her hand in his, feeling the warmth of him and the tingle of power that came with it. Peter pulled her closer, and as she neared his side, she could hear the confused grumbling of several boys. “Peter?” “A girl?” “This was unacceptable.” Peter turned his brilliant green eyes on the crowd, daring those voices to continue their dissent. They didn’t. He waited a moment before smiling again.
“Generals, Lost Boys, and Pips: May I introduce to you, Wendy Darling. She is here to share with us in our adventures. She is our friend, and when she is here, on Pan Island, she is under my protection. No one is allowed to touch her or hurt her. She is our honored guest, sister to John and Michael, and we will treat her with respect. We protect who?”
“Our own . . .” echoed back the dull voices of bored boys. Peter jumped up, taking to the air and flying low over the crowd, reaching out his hands to touch some of their heads, patting them with affection, tugging on their ears.
“I said, we protect who?”
“Our own!” they screamed back, leaping and reaching for his hand. He laughed joyfully.
“And to celebrate their arrival, I’ve just made the decision that in two days, we shall help relieve Hook of his generous bounty of alcohol. A raid is needed! What do you think? Are you ready for an adventure?” The boys were frenzied now, hugging each other and clapping. Peter rose up above them, his feet dangling near their heads. “And tell me, whose name shall he cry to the skies when we take it?”
The throng of boys fell silent and then a whisper pierced the group. “The Lost Boys.” The whisper grew among them until it had grown into a scream. Peter sailed above them, his face aglow with pride. Wendy felt a flare light inside of her chest as she watched him. He was dynamic.
“That’s right! Hook will cry for the Lost Boys. Not Pan, not you, but us, the Lost Boys. For it is all due to your courage, and let’s not forget, your quick swords and arrows!”
The boys erupted in laughter. Peter flew back up to the overhang, where Wendy and the boys stood perfectly still, mesmerized by this God-child who obviously commanded the worship of hundreds. The yearning eyes of the Lost Boys looked to Peter in that the same worshipful way that the faithful looked toward their God. Except that this was a different kind of church, a sanctuary of leaves and branches, their stained glass remnants of tattered fabric that hung and blew in the breeze. And Peter, well . . .
Without warning, he grasped a young boy from the crowd and pulled him into the air with him, the boy granted the power to fly, just as the Darlings had been.
“Do you all know who this is?”
The boys cheered.
“This is Thomas. Even though he is just a Pip, I have decided that Thomas will be a companion to Michael, but if he does his job well, he will be joining the Lost Boys and the Generals when we borrow from Hooky!”