Robert looked at his notes. The equations and calculations blurred into dark scribbles. He was chewing on the tip of his mechanical pencil and leaning far back on his desk chair. His glazed over eyes drifted from the sheets of paper before him to the bright window at his side. Outside it was a cool crisp day and the autumn breeze blew in from the open panes.

Robert always left his window open.

Even in the dead of winter he would raise it just a crack. The cold night air would worm its way inside and freeze his lungs, yet he refused to shut it.

Others always made excuses to themselves or others that he simply loved the fresh air, or needed it to help clear his constantly calculating mind.

Robert never volunteered a reason. Maybe it was out of embarrassment or maybe after fifteen years he had managed to convince himself that he simply loved the fresh air, or that he really did need it to help clear his head. It was neither, of course. It was a deeply embedded dream and an unconscious command that told him he must always leave his window open. Now, as he welcomed the cool air he reached back and searched, somewhere there was an explanation. Somewhere there was an answer.

The little boy curled up under the huge quilt. It was like a sea of soft fluff that his tiny head rolled upon and was almost swallowed. The mother came and sat, making a gentle depression in the covers. She brushed back his mob of dark hair with one hand and smiled.

"Good night my little Robert. Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite," she whispered and teasingly ticked his chin.

She left the room and left five year old Robert alone in mock sleep. As soon as the door shut his left eye flickered open. When he established that his bedroom was clear he opened the other. He struggled with the covers and eventually wrestled his way out of the bed. His small bare feet hit the wooden floor with near silence. He was such a little thing, almost no weight to him. He crept to the window and wedged his stubby little fingers into the handle. It took much effort for him to pry it open part way. But part way was all he could manage, it being the extent his arms could reach. However, tonight he had a plan. He quietly walked to the chair his mother kept in the room to sit with him. He knew he couldn't drag it because it would make enough noise to bring her running and ruin all of his fun. So very cautiously, and very tediously he lifted the chair and carried it a few inches and set it upon the floor once more. Doing this over and over he made his way across the small bedroom to the half open window. Eventually he got it close enough to where he could climb up and pull the window open the widest he had ever gotten it. Robert was thrilled.

He sat back down on the chair and looked out the window into the unshielded sky. It was clear and perfect. He could see every star. They twinkled and sparkled like flecks of glitter on black velvet, they reminded him of his mother's party dress.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…" Robert counted, pointing to each star in turn. Tonight he was sure he could count them all, now that the window was open all of the way.

Somewhere in the right of the collection of constellations he was ticking off a star fell. It fell quite fast and Robert became upset because he did not know if he had already counted it or not. If it had fallen out of the sky then it no longer counted and he would have to subtract one. If he had not, than he could keep going. His little brow furrowed.

Somewhere behind the numbers in his head, a part of him wondered where the star had fallen to.

If that question had ever made it to the forefront of Robert's thoughts than he might have been prepared for what happened next. As it did not, he was not.

The star crashed just below his window.

Robert gasped and covered his eyes.

After a few seconds, which felt like minutes to the boy, he guardedly peeked out from between his fingers to see what damage had been done.

He gasped again and recovered his eyes, thinking what was there couldn't possibly be there.

"Erm, hello!" a young childish voice rang out just beyond the windowsill.

Robert removed one hand and looked out through the space he now wished there was glass covering.

A boy that looked older than him with wild unruly blonde hair and a mischievous wicked grin was floating outside on the thin air.

"Hi," Robert ventured before covering his eye again.

He heard the boy laugh and than there was the unmistakable sound of someone climbing into the room through the window. He felt the boy brush past him. He bravely pulled both hands down and turned to look at the intruder.

He was at least two heads taller than Robert and was covered in a mix of green foliage and tattered brown pants. He was barefoot like Robert, but far from clean. His feet were covered with dust and dirt that traveled up his legs. He stood straight and proud with his hands at his hips and a broad smile on his face.

"I'm Robert. Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm a friend to fairies, the king of the mountain and the conqueror of pirates! I'm Peter Pan! And I never want to grow up!"

"Peter Pan!"

"Come, let us have an adventure and I promise you'll never have to grow up and we can always be little boys and have fun!"

Robert twisted his head sideways and looked at Peter. He was brimming with excitement and held out his hand beckoning him to take it.

"But I want to grow up! I want to be a famous scientist or doctor!"

Peter looked angry. He crossed his arms and looked down at the boy with a frown.

"If you grow up I can never teach you to fly," he said and than after he caught the interested look in Robert's eye, added, "You'll never get to meet the lost boys or fight Indians."

Robert fidgeted uneasily, looking over to the door he was sure his mother would come running through in a moment.

"Fine! If you don't want to go speak to the stars, I'll just be off!" Peter leapt off of the ground and flew out through the window. He was mostly outside before he felt the little hands clutch at his ankle.

"Wait," Robert timidly spoke as his hands took a mind of their own and grabbed a hold of the mysterious boy. "Please wait, I would very much like to speak to the stars."

Peter rolled around in the air and grinned. "Oh, I am so very clever! I tricked you! I knew you would, I have seen you try to count them every night for a week! They think it is very funny! You count them, when all you need to do is ask and they will tell you how many sisters and brothers they have!" Peter tucked himself back onto the windowsill. "Are you ready to fly, Robert?"

Robert nodded enthusiastically and crept closer to the window.

Peter took a pinch of what looked like glowing sand, which was really fairy dust, and sprinkled it over Robert's head. The glittery gold specs rained down over his ears and onto his shoulders. Robert sneezed and a cloud of it puffed out around him. Peter laughed and it sounded like music cascading down a waterfall.

"Come Robert, now all you need is a happy thought!" Peter took off a little ways into the night and held out his hand.

Robert grinned foolishly and said mostly to himself, "Daddy's calculator!" Off he went into the air and to Peter's waiting hand.

They soared and swung. Tumbling through the clear ocean of air. Robert had never had so much fun. It was entirely magical and he hoped he never forgot how wondrous it was. Peter egged him on, higher and higher until they left the chattering streets and sporadically lit homes. Soon it was only the moon, the stars, Robert Thomas and Peter Pan.

Peter giggled boyishly and shared a joke with a nearby star. Robert couldn't hear what they said. He begged and begged until Peter told him the star thought Robert was too small for a boy and too large for a fairy. When Peter saw that it made little Robert upset he said she also said he was handsome and would make a lovely star if neither boy nor fairy suited him. Robert laughed and did a twirl in the sky.

They flew all night and when the rays of dawn chased the stars away to the other side of the world, Robert wanted to chase after them and almost did until he remembered his home and his Mum and Dad. "I want to go back, Peter. I want to go home."

Peter stopped and did a slow roll upside down so he was facing him with his head toward the ground. He gave him a very strange look. "Who are you?" Peter seemed to have a tendency to loose his short-term memory. Sometimes when he flew too far ahead of Robert he would forget to come back and it was only by chance when Robert caught up to him or Peter decided to turn around of his own interest that he would recall stealing Robert from his room.

"I'm Robert James Thomas and I want to go back to my window, Peter."

"Oh! Robert! What, but we've so much to see! So much to do! I have so many games to show you. We haven't even fought the Indians yet! I promise, we could stay boys forever and ever!"

Robert only smiled at Peter and thought about addition and subtraction and reading and writing. All of the things that he so looked forward to learning. He was sure Peter Pan could not teach him. Peter recognized the look in his eyes. He had seen it before, there were others, of course, that had wanted to grow up. They left the Neverland, they had left Peter also. The cocky grin slid from his face as he hovered a few feet away from the little boy Robert. The little boy who wanted to be a man.

"I shall take you back to your window," he said with some sadness, but put a slow smile upon his face. "We shall race!" With that he shot off into the growing dawn.

Robert kicked his legs and tried to keep up.

When they reached his window, Robert sank slowly to the floor. Peter stayed outside and spun on his foot as though he were dancing. "Good bye Robert who wants to grow up and be a doctor."

"Will we play again Peter? I'm not grown up yet…" Robert said with his high-toned singsong voice.

"Maybe, but I don't expect you will open your window again, now that you've spoken to the stars. They will be sorry I'm sure," he looked off toward the fleeting darkness. Robert had the feeling that Peter shared the stars regret, but than, in a few hours Peter may not even remember seeing Robert.

"I'll always keep my window open, Peter!" Robert said with a sudden conviction and even took a step closer to the flying boy.

"Than I will see you again! Good night Robert, next time we shall have such fun!" With that he took off into the sky and hurried toward the wisp of dark blue on the horizon. Second star on the right.

"Maybe it wasn't just a dream…" Robert said to himself. He had always talked to himself. He found he was able to work through problems much better when he said them aloud.

He reflected on the odd phenomenon that had occurred while he was at school last semester. Robert was a student at Cambridge University working on a duel major in Physics and Chemistry. Two subjects that he deeply enjoyed. He had been in the physics lab working on an experiment for one of his instructors, sort of an extra credit assignment. Something had gone horribly wrong.

"Or perhaps horribly right," again he said to himself.

He had flicked on some of the measuring equipment and suddenly all of the machines and lab tools jumped into the air and hovered there as if some unseen hands were clutching at them. Of course it only lasted a moment before the equipment came crashing down and turned to shards and dented metal. The staff was furious with him. Not to mention the scorn he had to endure from his classmates. But he could assure himself that it certainly did occur. There was no question in his mind. He had been obsessing over it for months. Every time he tried to recreate the experiment, nothing happened. He went over and over in his mind what he was missing. Nothing seemed to work.

"I've checked over and over, the equipment's the same…the procedure was the same. There has to be some unexplained element that I've overlooked. Some outside contributor. What possible explanation is there that would make equipment float as though it could just ignore the effects of gravity! As if it suddenly had a choice how much gravity it chose to feel? It's as if it were some act of magic!"

He had almost yelled the last statement, tossing his pencil to the desk.

Slowly the words worked themselves into the folds and tangles of his intelligence. Slowly he recalled that wondrous feeling of flying free among the atmosphere. A passing feeling he had attributed to childish silliness, to a memory that could only have been unreal.

"Come Robert, now all you need is…" The words were barely on his lips before the thoughts began to whirl and spin and connect with positive charge. "Oh, the cleverness of me! Of course, its going to take years to get the theory right… maybe even more to prove them into physical law… then of course I have to build a prototype…"

It took fifteen years to let magic that came in through his window back into his life. With a happy thought and a high heart he let his mind fly and his pencil set to paper and a furious rate.

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