When James no longer had the option of falling out of prams, that’s when the excessive reading began. But that didn’t seem like a terrible thing to Smee either, even though it did seem to annoy his parents. They wished that James enjoyed things other young men in their circle enjoyed, but hunting foxes didn’t inspire James, and neither did sitting in drawing rooms making polite conversation.

Smee laughed while remembering those days, and marveled that he was surprised to find himself about to join a pirate crew with the young master. He couldn’t count how many times James was sent up to his room because of his obsessive talk of pirates at dinner no matter how dignified their guests, or how many pirate plays Mr. Smee and the other servants watched as James acted out his favorite battle scenes while wearing a long black fake beard, pretending to be his favorite pirate. Nothing distracted James from his passions, no matter what his parents threatened, or how they punished him. There came a time when James was left at school for the holidays because his parents couldn’t fathom having to deal with his incessant talk of his passions, but Smee knew that wasn’t a punishment for James, who preferred the uninterrupted reading time over the tiresome parade of titled guests his parents expected him to charm. Of course James could charm them if he wanted—Smee was certain James could do anything he set his mind to—but his young master was singularly focused, and all of his attentions were entirely devoted to his dream of finding Never Land.

Smee often took his holiday during this time, and would secretly visit James at school, bringing him books he knew he would enjoy, and a hamper stuffed with treats from their cook. Smee loved this time with James, when it was just the two of them, and he could listen to him for hours talking about all the topics that inspired him. Smee had no doubt James knew everything there was to being a pirate, but there was no way Smee would let him venture off into the great unknown on his own, even if he was a grown man now. For in Smee’s mind, James would always be the little boy who fell out of his pram.