Shadow (Wendy Darling #3)(22)
Wendy felt light-headed as she shook her head. No, no, of course not, how could they? Peter looked back at the boys, who were giggling together as they rounded out the bottom of the bridge and began climbing upward, their bodies dangerously close to one of the massive pillars. John was pointing out the various features of the bridge to Michael as they flew.
“Look there, Michael, do you see how the suspension wires anchor to the pillars? Father told me that this is the first bascule bridge of its kind!” Of course, their father had told John about the bridge as well. Wendy gave a smile. Well, she knew that the Prince and Princess of Wales had been at the naming of the bridge and that was very exciting. Peter pulled them through the middle of the bridge, and then up the side of one of the piers, circling around the gray stonework.
“This is Cornish granite and concrete!” John yelled to Michael, who was just helplessly laughing, so delighted he was beyond himself.
“John, be quiet,” he shrieked. John shook his head, obviously disappointed.
Peter looked back at John. “I find it very interesting, John; Cornish granite, do you say?” John flushed with happiness as they made their final lap around the gothic buttresses that topped the east tower. Wendy could see inside the walkways of the Tower, could see the faint outlines of women of the night—as her mother called them—sad creatures who trolled for lustful men, theirs a marriage of desperation.
“Children, are you ready?” The children looked up toward Peter as he trailed them up and away from the bridge. “Shall we pay Neverland a little visit? Shall we see what fantastic adventures await us?”
The boys erupted in loud cheers, and Wendy gave a girlish tilt of her head to show her approval. Michael smiled up at Wendy with a toothy grin and then looked down at his bear.
“Shall we go, Giles? Shall we go to Neverland?”
Then Michael reached down with his other hand to pat his teddy bear’s head.
“Michael, NO!” John yelled as his little brother fell from his hand. Michael let out a piercing scream as he tumbled down into the darkness. Wendy began screaming his name. With a jerk, Peter’s hand left her own and then she and John were also falling, so quickly that she didn’t even understand what was happening. Peter was gone in a flash of light, and then there was just the sky above her and the dark water below. Her body turned as she fell, her hands out in front of her, as if she could break her fall, John tumbling beside her, calling “Papa!” as he fell. Falling was even faster than flying, Wendy thought with horror, as they plummeted down toward the Thames. Suddenly Peter was above her and then beside her, Michael’s body up over his shoulder.
“Take my hand,” Peter shouted to Wendy, his hand reaching for hers. She flailed her arms, hoping to catch his hand. Finally, their fingers connected, and her fall simply stopped, as if the momentum of falling just failed to exist, and then she was moving with intent, with Peter, toward John’s tumbling form, twisting as it fell. The note from Booth fluttered out of her pocket and lazily flapped down towards the Thames. Wendy’s heart twisted at the sight of it, but her focus, for the moment, was on saving her brother.
“Grab him!” Peter shouted.
Wendy lunged for John’s leg and wrapped her hand firmly around his ankle, and then they were motionless in the air, a family hovering. John’s sobs faded quickly, and he turned to hide his face from Peter.
“I’m sorry,” Peter breathed heavily. “I couldn’t catch Michael and still hold you both. Better to catch him first and then grab you on my way up.”
John wrenched himself upward and traded his foot for his hand, finally righted. Michael was sobbing.
“I’m sorry, John! I forgot! I wanted to touch Giles.”
“It’s all right, Michael. It was an accident,” Wendy soothed him.
“It is certainly NOT all right!” John yelled. “Michael, you could have killed us all! Do you understand? What were you thinking? What is wrong with you?”
“John, leave him be! You’re being quite terrible!” Wendy admonished.
“No! He needs to understand. You could have killed us because you were worried about your stupid teddy bear.” John reached out and grabbed Giles out of Michael’s hand.
“John, stop it, right now!” Michael wailed.
“No. You need to learn. You aren’t a baby anymore.” With that, John dropped Giles. The teddy bear fell swiftly and silently into the dark night.
“Giles! NO!” Michael turned his body into Peter’s chest.
“John!” Wendy turned her hazel eyes on him, righteous anger curling up her chest. “I know you are scared, but try not to take out your anger on Michael. He is five.”
“He needs to grow up,” John snapped. “We’re going somewhere to have adventures, not play with stuffed toys.”
Peter silently watched the family bicker before clearing his throat. Gently, he uncurled Michael from his arm and took his hand in his own. Michael and Wendy were now on either side of Peter, with John at the end of the line. Peter tucked in his chin and peered into Michael’s tear-streaked face.
“John is right, Michael. You shouldn’t have let go of John’s hand. That was very dangerous.” But then he grinned, his eyes lighting up with delight. “But how would you like to go to a place where you don’t need to grow up—ever? Where you can have all the teddy bears you want?”