Ever Neverland by Phillip

I live on an island at times, one I visit when I need space, need to be away from responsibility, or need to exercise my imagination. I’ve gone there many times, flying away from my peers, my family, my school, and my work. I have been aware of such flight since childhood.

Was I a flighty kid?
Was I lost in dreams?
Was I?
Am I now?

I know my dreams have been important, especially the daydreams that tend to take me away into adventures I could not in any other way experience. But once I entered a dream that endured and became real.

I had a dream of love, a dream of love shared with a man. A dream of love discovered. I shared and cultivated a relationship with another man who also needed and desired the same. A dream of love that transforms to the depths and heights and that still occurs daily, feels grounded, and fulfills common needs. I entered this Neverland holding hands with a man.

There was no map. Oh, if you compared the plats, you might think you were in Denver, but that’s not really where this story occurred. No pirates lived there. Perhaps some Indians did and some lost boys! I loved the place. I’m pretty sure there was buried treasure; I’m sure I found it. The cast of characters: only two mattered then, Rafael and I.

Awaiting the arrival of the No. 10 bus I met a younger man named Rafael. I didn’t ask for his last name as I proffered Phil from my end of the pleasant conversation. (I wonder now if I had, would he have said Martinez or Pan?) We boarded the bus; that’s when we began to fly. We talked together as we rode about a mile, then he—this cute, warm, smiling man—got off to make a transfer that would take him to work. The contact seemed to me so much more than a bus ride. It was more like freedom of movement, even flying as we talked and laughed and studied one another. The experience happened again the next week—same place, same bus, but more information, more smiles, more laughter, more looking into one another’s faces, and less awareness of others who didn’t even seem to be present. A third experience seemed to establish a yearning for more, much more, but my Rafael Pan didn’t visit the nursery of my infatuation. I started searching for him—walking the streets near the bus stop alert to every biped in pants, wondering where this young man could be. Finally I met him again. We talked. I touched him, I touched him again. I gave him my phone number and an invitation to get together. Then two months (they could have been years) of no contact convinced me I needed this man in my life. I wanted his friendship, his presence, his charm, and his love. I would survive without him but kept alert to the possibility of seeing him again in some unexpected place. There and then I wouldn’t be as casual in my conversation. My friends were amused. One thought I was giving the situation over to the universe. I had a different thought. Finally Rafael phoned leaving a message. That next day and for many days to follow we flew together.

We met by happenstance the morning we waited to board a bus. A few months later we connected with a passion that was so total as to make us two the only occupants of my Neverland. Rafael Pan and I played house, played lovers, played sex, played decorator, played god. We came together in our fantasy island with an intensity neither of us had ever experienced.

Rafael was living alone when I met him and not doing very well. He was always late, always short of cash, always in crisis. His crisis was much larger than he could imagine. He was dying from hepatitis C, a disease that had reached full term (over fifteen years) and that was having a devastating effect on his liver, spleen, and brain. Already it had ruined his life. Already it had robbed him of much of his cognitive function. What I met was a dying man out of control, a beautiful, sweet man with a funny voice and endearing misuses of English who seemed to like me, a younger man who was lively, conversational, warm, loving, needy, sweet, open, vulnerable, and who became an obsession for me.

I lived there in Neverland with a double life. So did my Pan. We both worked daily but found great relief when we got home at night. Rafael greeted me with open arms then as if we had never before met but had known each other for millennia. Some of my friends got to meet my charmer, eat his cooking, and enjoy his warmth. For awhile life seemed good.

Although life in Neverland thrilled me, it wasn’t perfect. Its ATM was flat broke. There were money problems, clinic appointments, and a court appearance for a problem that only slowly revealed its true parameters. The clock inside Rafael’s bad-health crocodile kept ticking away towards its pursuit of dominance. But Pan transformed it with his own enfolding heart. In the extremity of his life I watched as he reached out with strength and love to a nurse, to his parents, and to me, his lover.

I worked through it all knowing I needed to keep a passable bridge between my worlds, knowing someday I would have to leave this fantasy place. I spent a huge amount of time helping his family cope with his homosexuality and eminent death. Finally I lost Pan who flew away from our love nest on the summit of the Hill. Unable to fly, I trudged home along the streets of Denver, the city to which I had moved in order to rebuild my life. Of course, I was sad, sad, sad as I reentered the life I had never really left. The going there now seemed difficult, the letting go painful. Where did my Pan go? Of course I don’t know, but he left me with a fantastic treasure of love I keep warmly nurtured in the innermost sanctuary of my heart. Our brief life together changed me, and I am determined to keep alive the treasure I discovered forever in Neverland.

Denver, 2012

© 23 November 2012

About the Author


Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, giving massages, and socializing. His massage practice funds his other activities that keep him busy with groups of writers and artists, and folk with pains. Following thirty-two years in church work, he now focuses on creating beauty and ministering to the clients in his practice. He volunteers at The Center leading “Telling Your Story.”

He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com



Neverland by Will Stanton

The document that I am reading is a transcript taken from a 2002 video tape of a home security camera placed in an exclusive mansion.

The transcript documents the sound and movements recorded on the video.
[Transcriber’s note: the room is very large and the ceiling is tall, but the camera covers the entire area.]

9:00 PM, no sound no movement.

9:10, a slight scraping noise is heard near one of the windows, followed by a “click.”

Outdoor sounds now can be heard.

Recording picks up soft fluttering and tinkling sounds.

What appear to be tiny golden sparks quickly stream from the window across the room, making a few circular movements, then landing on a high shelf.

A small figure appears in the shadows of the window.
The figure slowly floats into the room and gently lands upon the carpet.

The figure appears to be an adolescent boy, blond, slightly built, and oddly dressed in some material that looks like green leaves.
The boy’s face now can be seen clearly:

he seems to have an expression of excitement. He speaks:

“This is a part of Neverland I haven’t seen before. It’s all different and new to me. This should be a great adventure. Let’s explore!”

The figure moves about the room, picking up various objects, studying them, and then discarding them.

The golden sparks on the shelf suddenly move and fly around the room from shelf to shelf, finally settling upon a tall bureau.

The boy picks up two objects and again speaks,

“Look at those, Tink. I wonder what they are for.”

The figure moves to a desk and sees a large photo album.
He opens it and is studying it.

There is a pause.

The boy suddenly jumps back and then shoots straight up to the ceiling, plastering his back against the corner.

The boy seems to have a terrified look upon his face.
He shouts:

“Tink! I’m in terrible danger!
This isn’t Neverland. This is the Neverland Ranch!”

Both figures shoot out the window.

9:15, all is quiet; nothing to report.

[Image from video tape attached.]

© 11 March 2012

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life
stories.  I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me
particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at
times, unusual ones.  Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived
pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some
thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

Never Never Land by Donny Kaye

          In a time before reality TV and neighborhood video stores; long before Netflix was even a conception because there was no “NET” other than in women’s stockings and the fisherman’s contraption for pulling the resistant fish from its waters, and at a time when we still referred to theatres as just that, I saw Peter Pan. I was probably seven or eight years of age when we rode the bus down Broadway to the Paramount Theatre on 16th Street, to see Walt Disney’s newly-released production of Peter Pan. It was most likely then that I was most able to identify with the thought of Never Never Land, a place best known for eternal childhood and immortality. It seems that in the years that followed I moved farther and farther from the ability to exist in a simpler realm where life was childlike and pretty easy. At that point the world had not totally had its way with me in terms of experiencing society’s harsh need to have me be something other than what and who I am.

          As a seven year old, I was unfamiliar with the story of Peter Pan by J. Barrie and immediately loved the characterizations by W. Disney, especially Peter Pan and The Lost Boys. They were magical and yet the experience of the fairy, Tinker Bell, has remained a favorite in my life. Some time ago when I was considering my first tattoo, Tinker Bell actually showed as a possibility, realizing the fairy has always been of special existence in my mind.

          I must admit that I have never desired reading the unabridged work of J. Barrie. In fact, reading Peter Pan has not advanced to my Bucket List however; I am being inspired somewhat just doing background work on the web, in prep for this story. The stories of Never Land are far more complex than the animated cartoon produced by Disney in 1953. Just as intriguing as Barrie’s original creation, are the interpretations of his work. His characters have become the inspiration for psychological theories regarding men, such as the “Peter Pan Syndrome”, and homoerotic discussions of his characters abound on the web.

          What I do know is that there was a time when my life was a lot simpler. The complexities of my family and those of influence over me had not had their way with me yet. As time went on, I quietly assumed others expectations of me as I denied my own desires and to some extent, my own dreams. Never Land was indeed NEVER Land.

          NEVER Land became an experience in my life which was solely fantasy. It existed in animated characters living in magical scenes complete with original musical scores and at times, experienced in 3-D.

          I remember a condominium time share presentation in Orlando, Florida in which after we had been seated in a handsomely decorated and cozy library-study setting, complete with drinks in hand, the book cases on either side of the fireplace began slowly moving. As the book cases and fireplace gave way to a video presentation that would be screened on the newly exposed wall, Tinker Bell actually flew in through the doorway on the opposite side of the room, sprinkling her fairy dust across the room and onto the newly revealed video screen as an arial shot of Disney World and Epcot Center filled the magically expanding space. That seemed as close as I might get at that point in my life to the experiences of Never Land that were waiting for me in my personal journey towards wholeness. If only it would have been as simple as purchasing a time-share in Disney’s newest resort community!

          I don’t know if Never Never Land equates with St. John of the Cross’s Dark Night of the Soul or Dante’s reference to “awakening in the woods to find yourself wholly lost,” but certainly there was somewhat of a nightmarish quality to Captain Hook’s eventually falling from the gang plank in to the water and the awaiting open mouth of the crocodile.

          Some place near the “stars of the milky way” and “always at the time of sunrise”, there is a “turn just after the second star” that takes a person on a path beyond the experience of Never Never Land. Beyond reference to escapism, childishness and immortality is the experience of unity and wholeness that comes as unresolved emotional baggage is discarded and as a result, unconditional joyfulness is experienced.

          Our nightmares, as well as our dreams all exist within us. We are the creators. We can take inspiration from a fairy tale, such as Peter Pan and fall into the experience of our own surrender and opening to our own desire which provides us our own kind of beauty and richness.

          On the other side of Never Never Land, we can emerge transformed, lighter and brighter, braver and more confident for having moved through the experience of the darkness, the nightmare, or the experience of being wholly lost.

          In my reflections on Never Never Land it seems that there is continual movement between different realms of being. As infants we come to this experience called humanity and are moved between Never Never Land; Always Always Land and eventually, transformation into an experience of our own beauty and richness as spiritual beings having a human experience.

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

NEVER-never Land by Gillian

I
completely inhabit a never-never land all of my own making.
Growing
up in remote farm country I said I could NEVER be happy living in the city,
and here I am living happily
in the middle of three million people in the Denver metro area.
With
that same rural attitude I said I could NEVER be happy working in some big corporation,
and here I am retired after
thirty wonderful years with IBM.
After
I got divorced I said I shall NEVER get married again,
and here I am after 25
wonderful years with Betsy.
And we know we are married even
if the Government does not.
So
if ever you hear me say I could NEVER live
wherever,  just look for me there.
Never-never
land seems where I’m destined to be!

About the Author

I
was born and raised in England. After graduation from college there, I moved to
the U.S. and, having discovered Colorado, never left. I have lived in the
Denver-Boulder area since 1965, working for 30 years at IBM. I married, raised
four stepchildren, then got divorced after finally, in my forties, accepting
myself as a lesbian. I have now been with my wonderful partner Betsy for 25
years.

Neverland by Ricky

           I first went to Neverland in 1953 at the age of 5 when my parents took me to an indoor theater for the first time to see Walt Disney’s animated movie Peter Pan, which begins with the narrator telling the viewing audience that the action about to take place, “has happened before, and will all happen again”, only this time it is happening in Edwardian London, in the neighborhood of Bloomsbury. 
          The movie is an adaptation of Sir James Matthew Barrie’s 1904 play Peter Pan or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow UpIn 1935 Walt wanted Peter Pan to be his second film after Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs but he couldn’t get the rights from the Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital in London* until four years later and then WWII interrupted production.  Barrie’s 1911 novelization of the play is titled Peter Pan and Wendy
Cover of the 1911 Novel
          1953 was the year that my parents bought me the large Disney book of Peter Pan complete with text and lots of pictures of scenes from the film.
          The next time I remember going to Neverland was in 1955 at age 7, when my family watched the NBC television broadcast of the Broadway musical of Peter Pan; starring Mary Martin as Peter and Cyril Ritchard as Captain Hook, which had earned Tony Awards for both stars in 1954.
          Soon after the TV broadcast, I visited Neverland yet again that same year after the opening of Disneyland on July 18th.  My favorite areas of the park are Fantasy Land and Tomorrow Land.  From that visit on, I have probably lived in a fantasy world and the world of the future; jumping into either one of them alternately and refusing to live in the present reality.  My favorite rides have remained the same over the years; the Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland rides.  Both are fantasy related but to me were the most beautifully crafted and colorful rides.
          The Peter Pan ride begins with one sitting in a small pirate ship flying out the window of the nursery following Peter’s shadow into a nighttime scene flying over the city of London and around Big Ben.  The city below is aglow with lights brought out by overhead “black lights.”  The illusion of flying was most impressive to me.  The ride continues through the night sky until you circle around the Neverland portrayed in the movie.  It then continues through various dioramas from the movie and ends at the opposite end of the starting point.  I loved it.
          The Alice in Wonderland ride is similar but featuring scenes from that movie. In spite of the Queen of Hearts, the ride is beautiful, colorful, and mostly non-threatening except the short part in the scary nighttime forest.  I liked the peacefulness of the ride.
          Another ride in Fantasy Land is the Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs ride.  I wanted to go on that ride but my parents continued their refusal to ride on what they perceived as a “kids” ride (either that or they didn’t have the money to spend).  I have always maintained that kid or adult rides are absolutely no fun to do alone.  As with the previously mentioned rides, this one began benignly with lots of good music and colors in the scenes from the movie.  The part where the ride goes into the Dwarf’s mine was especially nice with all the multicolored gemstones lining the tunnels.  Then there was the exit, which was suddenly blocked by the evil and ugly witch and the vehicle turned down a dark side tunnel.  Another exit appeared only to be blocked and another turn down yet another tunnel; only this one held a nasty surprise.  Dangling in the dark were black threads, which slid across my face and felt like spider webs.  It didn’t help any that at that moment a large glowing spider appeared on the wall just ahead and to the side.  Well, I lost my joy, happiness, and composure right then.  As the song asserts, “I don’t like spiders and snakes and that ain’t what it takes to love me…”  Mr. Disney.  I panicked and was really scared that there were spiders in the vehicle and on me.  By the time the ride ended, I was crying and ran to my waiting parents, probably yelling something about spiders.  I had forgotten that this was a ride and that everything was fake.
          Looking back on that event all I can think of to account for my behavior is one of two things.  Either I was a “scaredy cat” or my parents’ warnings about the Black Widow spiders (found around the outside of our house) being poisonous had really been taken very seriously.  I still hate spiders and I don’t like snakes.
          From 1958 thru 1965 (ages 10 to 17), I went to Neverland whenever I visited my dad for his one-week-at-Christmas visitation rights.  We always went to Disneyland and I rode my two favorite rides among others.  I only rode the Snow White ride once again when my wife and I went there and I told her the story of my panic.  That time there were no black threads.
          Perhaps the trip to Neverland that had the most impact on my life was in 1960 at age 12.  That was the year my toy box from when I was 7 reappeared in my life and I found the large Disney book on Peter Pan.  When I began to read the book I returned to Neverland.  During the reading I mentally wished that I would not grow up and would stay 12 forever (a version of the “Peter Pan Pledge”) and I internalized the wish. 
The Peter Pan Pledge

“I pledge allegiance to Peter Pan and the Land of Never Never, to stay young in mind, [and] in spirit; to grow old and grouchy never!”
          If you don’t count the opinions of my children, most people who know me really well would say that I’ve done a good job in keeping that pledge.
          In 1953, I went to Neverland for the first time.  In all truthfulness, I never left.
Sir James M. Barrie, 1st Baronet
“In 1929, J. M. Barrie donated all rights in Peter Pan to Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital.  In 1987, fifty years after Barrie’s death, copyright expired under UK law. However, the following year a unique act of Parliament restored royalty income from all versions of Peter Pan to the hospital, which means that very sick children will continue to benefit from J. M. Barrie’s generous gift for as long as the hospital exists.”
© 12 March 2012

Illustration from 1911 Edition



 

Illustration from 1911 Edition



“Never say goodbye, …”

 

About the Author

Emerald Bay, Lake Tahoe, CA
Ricky was born in June of 1948 in downtown Los Angeles.  He lived first in Lawndale and then in Redondo Beach both suburbs of LA.  Just prior to turning 8 years old, he was sent to live with his grandparents on their farm in Isanti County, Minnesota for two years while (unknown to him) his parents obtained a divorce.

 
When united with his mother and stepfather in 1958, he lived first at Emerald Bay and then at South Lake Tahoe, California, graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966.  After two tours of duty with the Air Force, he moved to Denver, Colorado where he lived with his wife and four children until her passing away from complications of breast cancer four days after 9-11.

He came out as a gay man in the summer of 2010.  “I find writing these memories to be theraputic.”

Ricky’s story blog is “TheTahoeBoy.blogspot.com”.