Disclaimer: Peter Pan and The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J.M. Barrie and C.S. Lewis respectively.

Keep the Candle Burning

The steady rain turns to a heavy downpour, water drops racing to the earth, drumming on the city roofs and walkways. Wendy Darling takes shelter under a tarp in front of a closed shop. The seventeen-year-old girl gazes blankly at the sheets of rain, her thoughts miles away as she hums quietly. She wraps her arms more tightly around herself, shivering despite her coat. If only she had paid more attention to Nana about taking an umbrella before she hurried off to do her errands…

"Boys!" the word is spoken in a frustrated huff.

The feminine voice brings the teenager back to reality, interrupting her thoughts and humming. Blinking, she glances over to the blond-haired girl who has shared her shelter for some minutes, caught in the same predicament as she. She appears a few years younger than herself, not yet wearing makeup or putting her hair up. The girl flushes and turns to her apologetically.

"I am sorry. That was unladylike," the girl says.

The older girl smiles kindly at her. "I have been guilty of similar outbursts as well," she admits. "Sometimes my brothers have tried my patience."

"Perhaps if I had a brother I would understand more," the other girl muses, running a hand through her blond locks. "But he could have been more considerate. He could have offered to wait out the rain with me instead of directing me here and then rushing off," she goes on, her frustration returning, slightly hurt by his behavior deep down inside.

Wendy chuckles quietly. "Your friend sounds like a boy I knew when I was younger. Always wanting to have fun, be the leader in everything, do things his way, was conceited...," she recalls with a fond sigh.

The younger girl looks at her, catching the unfamiliar note in her voice, seeing how her small wistful smile is turning sad around the edges. "What became of him? Did he improve as he got older?" she asks softly.

Wendy shakes herself and looks at the girl. "Oh, it was a long time ago when we were friends. I have not seen him in years. But, no, I am sure he has not changed," she answers.

"I see," the blond-haired girl breathes. Her thoughtful expression slowly falls. "Of course, naturally," she murmurs in resignation, and rubs her hands up and down her arms.

The older girl studies her for a moment. She thinks she recognizes that look, sense of disappointment... "But hopefully your friend will change over time," she tries to encourage.

"Oh!" Wide-eyed, the girl stares at her. "My grandmother says the same thing. Yet it seems to take such a long time for it to happen," she admits.

"Aye. It can be hard to wait, to hope."

For a while the two silently watch the rain continue to fall.

"It almost sounds like singing, doesn't it? The way the rain hits the ground."

"Singing?" Wendy cocks her head.

"Like it is summoning things to grow…bringing new beginnings, new possibilities."

The brown-haired girl hums in agreement, her eyes shining. "When it rains like this, it makes me think of a child weeping," she eventually shares.

"I never thought of that. How sad!"

"Yes. Yet it also makes me think that there is something more than all this…," she trails off.

"Another world."

Taking a deep breath, Wendy glances at the girl, expecting to be laughed at or for her suggestion to be brushed off. Instead, the light-haired girl's face glows, excitement and something else in her eyes, her smile bright and genuine. Surprised, slowly Wendy returns her smile.

"Exactly." For a moment she hesitates. "Do you think it is possible there are other worlds besides our own?" It is the first time she asks the question.

"Yes, I do," the younger girl replies, quiet conviction and belief in her voice. Her face softens with a sort of longing in her expression.

The dark-haired girl suddenly finds herself blinking back tears, an old ache settling in the pit of her stomach. If only—

"Oh, good, you're still here!"

Suddenly a boy is standing with the girls under the tarp. His eyes flicker to Wendy, giving a brief polite nod of the head before focusing on the other girl.

"Yes, I am. But where have you been, Digory?"

The boy waves the large umbrella he holds. "I bought this at Mr. Hamley's shop. He was very busy, otherwise I would have been back sooner," he explains.

Wendy glances at the girl and nearly giggles at her astonished look, gazing between the boy and the umbrella.

"You purchased an umbrella?" she says slowly.

"I did. Otherwise we'll be soaked to the bone by the time we reach your house."

The girl blinks at him.

"What?" he asks, brows furrowing in a confused frown.

She shakes her head slightly. "Thank you, Digory," her voice is quiet and almost shy.

The boy's expression relaxes, a beam lighting his face. "Shall we?"

She nods then turns to Wendy. "Thank you for…everything."

"You are welcome," she replies, "I enjoyed our talk."

The girl nods. "It was nice meeting you—" she breaks off.

"Wendy Darling," the older girl smiles.

"I'm Polly Plummer."

"A pleasure to meet you. Take care, Polly," Wendy's voice drops to a near whisper.

Polly shakes her hand amiably. "And you, Wendy. Goodbye."

"Good day."

Wendy smiles at both Polly and Digory. Something in her warms as she observes the boy carefully position the umbrella over his and Polly's head, urging her to keep close to him, and then they step onto the sidewalk and swiftly disappear down the street.

The girl's smile lingers on her face for a long while, her eyes shut, memories half-forgotten bursting forth fresh and bright. Perhaps it is because she saw some of herself in Polly. And wishes and hopes buried for so long are stirring.

"Silly Wendy!" she scolds herself.

"Silly Wendy!" the rain seems to echo.

"My silly, clever Wendy."

The girl opens her eyes.

THE END