James, it was soon discovered, did not at all dislike the new situation that he found himself in. It was true that he was forever surrounded by his sister's children and from time to time found himself in the role of Nanny, but he found this conforting in the same sort of way that one finds comfort in an itchy bit of blanket that smells like home. The children, named George, John, Peter, Michael, and Nicholas from eldest to youngest, were a secret delight, and though James grumbled and muttered fierce things under his breath, he loved them with equal ferocity. It would be no different when Wendy, the child yet unborn, the crown princess of this royal family, came into the world.

School however, was something else entirely. Coming to class was something like walking into the middle of a very strange story, where one knows nothing about the characters or the plot and things are written in terms of inches rather than centimeters. James found himself relying on his smile and the newly found magical properties of his native pronuciation to get him into the good graces of his instructors while the truth of the matter was that he was smiling because he didn't know what else to do.





In other words: help. I can't find heads or tails of math in particular, and social studies has me completely scoobied. Are there any parties in this town, anyway? If not, we should have one. By "we" I mean you and I. Aye. You there.

JaMeS

It's not very often that a father picks up and leaves seemingly out of nowhere in the late-autumn of his life.  One usually dares to believe that by the late-autumn, things have begun to settle, and it's the sort of thing that will last well into Winter and the eventual coming of the new year.  But that's exactly what happened when Mr. Barrie got a job in the States, packed up his things, and left.  Mrs. Barrie was left with two children at home and a sudden lack of maternal feelings, and as such, cast them out into the world to fend for themselves.  Their older siblings had done it, and of course it was expected that they would do as well.

James, the eldest of these two youths, took up residence with one of his forebearers-- an older sister called Sally-- and decided to leave sweet, bonny Scotland to try his fortune in the States.  There was a school there that was accepting late applicants (even as late as James found himself stumbling upon it) and, as he was a nice-looking boy and had a sweet sort of smile, he was accepted.







Aye.  It's James.  Lovely little story, that.  Bit anxious to know how it'll be ending, if you must know.  If you see a Scottish, lost-looking sort of bampot, come say hello.  Call me a leprechaun and I swear to God I'll kick yer arse to next Tuesday and back.  Next to that, I'm sure we'll be great friends!



JaMeS