Peter and Alice by John Logan Page B

me… So, yes, the smile of recognition, all the associations coming back: the first time they saw the play; the first time they read the book. Peter and Wendy. Neverland. Captain Hook. Tinkerbell… But a second after those happy memories comes that look of confusion and doubt, and then this in their eyes: “But how can you be Peter Pan?You? The Boy Who Never Grew Up? That’s not you. You have egg on your collar. You can’t fly. You’re not Alice. Alice was a little blond girl, I know she was. You’re lying to me.” And then they remember . What growing up really is : when they learned that boys can’t fly and mermaids don’t exist and White Rabbits don’t talk and all boys grow old, even Peter Pan, as you’ve grown old. They’ve been deceived . As if you’ve somehow been lying to them. So following hard on the smile of remembrance is the pain in the eyes, which you’ve caused, every time you meet someone.
    ALICE : How can you say it’s a lie? They’re just stories.
    PETER : As a publisher I’ve an obligation to tell the truth.
    ALICE : You talk like a very young man, and callow. The truth isn’t a mathematical equation that always works out to the precise sum. It’s variable. It’s mutable. Lord, the longer I live the more I know there’s no such thing as certainty ! There are only passing moments, and I savor the ones that bring me some damn comfort in a cold house. If it’s a lie, why does it keep me warm?
    PETER : It doesn’t and it can’t.
    ALICE : You’re presumptuous again.
    PETER : I’m sorry.
    ALICE : You’re not at all. You think you’re being clever: “No one gets the better of me. I see the world as it really is. I’m a marvelous honest fellow. Pity the poor old lady living in her memories of things that never happened.” You’re so young. You are the Boy Who Never Grew Up!
    PETER : Believe me; the one thing I thoroughly know is growing up !
    ALICE : Then tell me.
    PETER : What?
    ALICE : What is “growing up” precisely?
    PETER : Well, I suppose…
    ALICE : Specifically.
    PETER : I don’t know that I can —
    ALICE : It’s the one thing you “thoroughly know.”
    PETER : Well, it’s complicated —
    ALICE : Is it?
    PETER : I wouldn’t know where to start —
    ALICE : Was it the day you realized your parents aren’t perfect? When you got your first long trousers? Going to school? Saying hello? Saying goodbye? Your heart opens? It breaks? It heals? It breaks again? Which is it?
    PETER : When you realize what life is.
    ALICE : Too vague. You’re after the truth , aren’t you? Being a publisher and all?
    He looks at her. She is like iron staring back at him .
    He reorients himself in the room .
    PETER : Do you think back on your life?
    ALICE : As rarely as possible.
    PETER : Will you try?
    ALICE : Why should I?
    PETER : To help me understand. We can swap a truth for a truth.
    ALICE : I’m not sure I trust you…
    PETER : Who but me? Peter and Alice.
    Suddenly, a man’s voice is heard:
    CARROLL : (Offstage.) Alice ! … Alice ! Where have you gone?
    ALICE is utterly shocked at this voice from her past .
    CARROLL : (Offstage.) Are you hiding, Queen Alice?
    PETER : Yes, of course that’s how it begins: a harmless fairy tale to pass the hours…
    The bookstore disappears around ALICE and PETER .
    We’re in their minds and memories now .
    LEWIS CARROLL sidles up to ALICE . He’s slanted, awkward, partly deaf and painfully shy .
    CARROLL : I can’t do it without you, my lady. What am I without you? But then, what are you without me ? … Take my hand.
    He offers his hand .
    CARROLL : Be young again.
    PETER : Who wouldn’t want that?
    CARROLL : Be young forever.
    PETER : He offers your heart’s desire.
    ALICE : Stop the clocks. Turn down the lights. In the glass, the wrinkles fade away. The skin is