Boy, oh, boy-what a day!

But now it was coming to a close. The memories danced through his mind, and Jack could only grin and wonder what lay ahead. Tomorrow would bring new adventures, Hook had promised. Just wait, little man. Just wait.

His reverie was interrupted as a small, anxious voice called his name.

"Jack! Jack!"

He stared down at the wharf, where the barred window of a basement prison framed a little girl's dirt-streaked face.

"What do you think you're doing? Why are you playing games with him? Look at me, Jack! You think you're funny, but you're not! You wouldn't be acting this way if Mommy and Daddy were here!"

Jack was silent. Hook slid down from Long Tom and walked to Jack's end, his smile little more than a twitch of his lips.

He reached up and put an arm about the boy. "Do you know who she is, Jack?" he asked softly.

Jack shrugged. "Sure."

"It's me, Jack!" Maggie shouted insistently.

"She's so loud," whispered Hook, sounding sad. He paused. "What's her name again?"

Jack frowned. "Ah…" His mind was suddenly blank.

Hook's smile broadened appreciably. Things were working out better than he had expected.

"I'm Maggie, your sister, you idiot!" she screamed. "When I get out of here, I'm gonna break every model you own! I'm going to mess up your room so bad you won't recognize it!" She sobbed. "It's me! Don't you remember anything? What about Mommy and Daddy? What about them? Jack, it's me!"

Maggie watched in despair as Hook lifted Jack off Long Tom and with his arm about her brother's shoulders led him from view. Jack barely remembered her. He had forgotten her name completely.

She sagged against the bars, her lower lip quivering. She really, really, really wanted Mommy and Daddy!

"Mommy," she said softly.

A tiny voice behind her whispered, "What's a mommy?"

She turned to find one of the littlest captive Lost Boys staring up at her intently. The others were huddled in the dark behind him, all of them dirty and ragged and unkempt, their eyes wide and their faces upturned. From dawn until dusk they had been kept busy by the pirates counting Hook's treasure, chained to chests of it, made to count in cadence the same baubles over and over, sorting, polishing, and then putting them back again. Pirates with whips had urged them on. Pirates with buckets had brought them dreadful food to eat and dirty water to drink. Maggie had hated every minute of it. It almost made her wish she had stayed in Hook's school.

The slave kids were all looking at her expectantly. "Doesn't anyone remember his mother?'' she asked incredulously.

They glanced at each other and shook their heads no.

Maggie climbed down from the box she had been standing on to face them. "What's wrong with everyone here?" she demanded.

"What's a mommy?" the first kid repeated tonelessly.

Maggie frowned thoughtfully. Her eyes glanced down at her favorite nightdress, violet hearts on a cream field. Jack had been wearing a pirate hat. Stupid old Jack.

"Mommies," she repeated. She walked to where another little boy was resting on the floor, whimpering from a bad dream. She lifted his head, fluffed his pillow, and lay him back down again. The whimpering stopped.

"Mommies make sure you always sleep on the cool side of your pillow," she said quietly. She sat down, facing the anxious faces. One by one they crowded close. She thought suddenly of Granny Wendy and her stories of Peter Pan. "They're the ones," she intoned gravely, "who put all your thoughts in order while you sleep so that when you wake up, all the good ones are right on top where you can find them."

Blank stares greeted her pronouncement. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?" Heads shook. She thought some more. "Mommies are great," she declared, taking another approach. "They feed you, kiss you, give you baths, and drive you to piano lessons. They play with you when you're lonely. They take care of you when you're sick. They paint, draw, color, hug, kiss, and make everything better when you hurt. And they tuck you into your bed every night."

More blank looks. Except-there! One little boy seemed on the verge of remembering. And there! Another was scratching his head.

Maggie leaned forward. "They give you Band-Aids when you cut yourself, they bake you cookies on rainy afternoons, and they sing you songs, and-"

"Wait!" a Lost Boy exclaimed. "I remember! They're not songs-they're… lullabies!"

"Right!" exclaimed Maggie.

"Sing us one!" called out the others. "Sing us a lullaby!"

Maggie grinned. "All right."

She smoothed out her wrinkled nightgown, tossed back her strawberry-blond hair, and softly began to sing.

Hunched over the railing of the aft deck, facing out toward the harbor mouth where the mix of colors from Neverland's moons formed wondrous patterns on the ocean's surface, Hook, Smee, and Jack lifted their heads as one at the sound of Maggie's voice. For a long time no one spoke, caught up in the enchantment of her singing, lost in their private thoughts.

Then Jack whispered, so low he could barely be heard, "My… my mother sings that song."

Instantly Hook was alert, a scowl chasing the momentary rapture from his angular features. His hook lifted and his eyes fixed on Smee. Do something! he mouthed in fury.

Smee straightened and clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder. "C'mon, me lad!" he bellowed as if calling hogs. "Let's have another go at Long Tom!"

He steered Jack to the cannon, mounted him in place, raced to the other end, climbed aboard, and began whooping and hollering as if he had never had so much fun in his entire life.

Hook walked across to the opposite railing and stared downward at the docks. In a shaft of moonlight, he could see Maggie Banning seated on the floor of his prison.

Far distant, walking alone along a limb of the Nevertree where he could watch the last of the sun's color spread away into the water and the moonglow take its place, Peter Banning came to an uncertain stop. Below, silhouetted against the dark backdrop of the island's cliffs by a shimmer of twinkling lights, sat Hook's pirate town and the Jolly Roger. The air was so clear that he could see the movement of tiny figures on the wharf and streets amid the jumbled ship hulls. It was so still that he could hear their footsteps.

But what he heard now, suddenly, improbably, was the sound of someone singing a soft, sweet lullaby.

I know that song, he thought in surprise.

He had finished his meal in something of a fog. Lost Boys crowded about, all of them talking a mile a minute, asking this, asking that, anxious to be close to him. He had smiled at them, nodded cheerfully, and given pithy answers to their questions-all the while trying to figure out what had happened with that sword and those coconuts. For a moment there, for just a moment, he had been… transformed. It was a ridiculous thing to say, but it was the only description that fit. He shouldn't have been able to do that-to split those coconuts-not even if they had been lying on the table, let alone flying through the air. It was such an incredible piece of luck, such a fluke.

And yet, for just a moment…

He had watched Tink's flash of light as she darted down in front of a glum Rufio. "Did you see?" he had heard her ask. "He's in there, Rufio. Help me get him out. Teach him to fight so he can stand up to Hook. Look in his eyes-he's there!" And she had yanked on his gold earring for emphasis.

But Rufio had simply swatted at her in response and growled, "Tink, you Neverbug! Let go!" so that she had flown indignantly away.

I know that song.

He stared transfixed at the lights of the pirate town, straining to hear the words. As he did so Thud Butt appeared beside him. For a moment neither spoke, listening together to the sound of the music.