Second Star to the Fright

by Vera Strange

  Mr. Bates checked his clipboard with the class list on it, then glanced down at Barrie with that glazed-over look.

  “Barrie Darling?” Mr. Bates said with empty eyes. His voice sounded monotone. “Oh, right. You’re still in fifth grade. You’ll always be in fifth grade, remember?”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” Barrie stammered. His stomach sank. “My grades aren’t the best, but they’re okay. Grady has way worse grades, and they called his name.”

  “Special kids like you stay kids,” Mr. Bates said. “And you stay in my class…forever.”

  From backstage, he heard the principal call Michael’s name. His best friend marched across the stage and accepted his certificate, pausing to bow for a photo op.

  “No, I’m supposed to graduate with my friends,” Barrie said, feeling tears spring to his eyes. A lump formed in his throat. “We’re all going to junior high together in the fall.”

  “I’m sorry, but there must be a mistake,” Mr. Bates said. “You can’t go to junior high. That’s for grown-up kids. You get to stay in fifth grade. I’m your teacher…forever.”

  Barrie started to back away. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing or what was happening to him. This was worse than the terrible nightmares and Hook’s ghost haunting him. He watched as John crossed the stage, officially graduating.

  Still they didn’t call Barrie’s name. The ceremony wound to a close. His parents never arrived, either, nor did his aunt and cousins. Nobody came to see him. Barrie hid backstage in the shadows by himself, while his classmates cheered and celebrated without him. Michael and John hooted and did their secret handshake, this time without Barrie to share in their ritual.

  He felt a tear trickle down his cheek, leaving a trail. He wanted to join his friends, but he felt like a freak who didn’t belong.

  “This isn’t what I meant when I made my wish,” he whispered, his voice catching.

  But there was nobody there to hear him.

  School was out for the summer, but when Barrie woke up the next day, he didn’t feel his usual excitement at the months of total freedom ahead.

  What did any of it mean if he wasn’t moving up to junior high with his friends? Not to mention the horrible nightmares. For the last few nights, he had tried to stay up as late as possible, keeping watch for Hook’s ghost, but eventually, he always fell into a fitful sleep full of bad dreams. Now that he was awake, he felt even more exhausted than he had before bed. At this rate, he was going to turn into a sleep-deprived zombie like his mother, who needed megadoses of caffeine to function.

  Graduation replayed in his head, haunting him just as much as the pirate captain. You’ll always be in fifth grade….I’m your teacher…forever. His teacher’s words echoed through his head, hitting him a little bit harder each time. While he had wanted to stay a kid, Barrie hadn’t considered what would happen if everyone else grew up, including his best friends.

  One of the main reasons that he’d made his wish was to keep his best friends—not lose them. He remembered them celebrating their graduation without him while he hid backstage. This was all turning out to be the exact opposite of a dream come true.

  Even his mom letting him have a second helping of his favorite sugar-bomb cereal didn’t cheer him up. In fact, he couldn’t believe it, but he was starting to get sick of how sweet it was. It made his teeth hurt and gave him a low-grade headache.

  He scowled at the friendly cartoon pirate on the box. “Walk the plank, matey,” he whispered.

  “Have fun playing all day, kiddo,” Mom said, waving him out the door.

  “Fun…what’s that?” Rita said, scowling at him from the kitchen table, where her nose was buried in a thick workbook. High school was out for the school year, but now began something even worse—SAT prep classes.

  Whatever that is, Barrie thought, reminding himself that there were still good things about staying a kid. He grabbed his backpack and skateboard. Also, it was still summer break. This was his favorite time of the year because it meant one thing—no school.

  His friends wouldn’t be moving up to junior high without him for a couple of months. They could still hang at the skate park, try out some new tricks, and look around for some fun trouble to get into. Feeling the tiniest bit better, he mounted his skateboard and headed out.

  * * *

  He spotted Michael and John lounging with their boards in a shady spot under a big oak tree. Barrie skated up to them. His backpack was strapped to his shoulders with the hook inside.

  “Hey, guys! Wassup?” Barrie greeted them.

  They both looked up at him, confused.

  “Hey, kid,” Michael said. “What do you want?”

  “Uh, it’s summer,” Barrie said, kicking his board up and grabbing the end. “We always hang out in the park together.”

  “We hang out?” John said, glancing at Michael. “We don’t even know you.”

  Barrie’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Yeah, do you go to our school?” Michael added. “What’re you in, fourth grade?”

  “Wh-what?” Barrie stammered.

  They just stared up at him. Barrie thought of all the pranks they had played on each other over the years and decided—hoped—that was what was happening now. He forced a laugh.

  “Right, nice prank,” he said, plopping down next to them.

  “What prank?” John said, not laughing or breaking character. “We’re serious. What’s your name, anyway?”

  They both stared at him.

  No. No! This is not happening! Barrie thought.

  “Guys, I’m Barrie…your best friend…” he said. “We do everything together—”

  “Barrie? Barrie…We don’t know anyone named Barrie,” Michael cut him off. “Do we?”

  “Nope. And I’m pretty sure we’d remember our best friend,” John added.

  They both snickered at Barrie.

  “Nice try, dude,” Michael said. “You’re just some elementary school loser who wants to hang with the older kids.”

  “Right, we’re in junior high now,” John said. “Go play with someone your own age. We’ve got way more important stuff to do.”

  Barrie stared at his two best friends in the world, waiting for them to break into grins or tell him that it was just a sick joke. But they remained stone-faced. Being stabbed by a sword couldn’t have felt any worse than this.

  How could they not remember him?

  Feeling heartbroken, Barrie collected his board and sulked away. He could hear them laughing at his expense. “What a weirdo,” Michael whispered to John.

  “Trying to pretend to be our best friend?” John jeered. “Like how desperate do you have to be?”

  This was worse than not being called at graduation. And missing the concert. And not getting to have a birthday party. Nothing could be worse than this.

  Why is this happening to me? Why did I ever make that wish?

  Was he really never going to grow up?

  As he skated away from the park, he spotted the elementary school in the distance.

  There was only one way to be sure.

  * * *

  Barrie crept around to the side of the school, sticking to the shadows. He ran his hands along the redbrick wall as he went.

  It was eerily quiet and deserted now that school was out for the summer. The various summer camps and programs wouldn’t start up for another few weeks. He scanned the place for security guards, but even they seemed to have packed up and gone home, as grateful for a break as the kids.

  Barrie usually loved the summer. He loved the heat of the sun even when the temperature crested one hundred degrees, which seemed to happen more often every year. He loved the chill of ice cream on his tongue; the long, lazy days spent skateboarding with his friends. My former friends, he thought with a shudder, remembering their cold expressions at the park.

  Summer would not be the same without them. They were the Lost Boys. But without them, Barrie just felt…lost.

  S
till clutching his skateboard, he tried the back entrance by the playground. But it was locked and wouldn’t budge. Too easy, he thought, releasing the handle.

  He crept around to the side of the library, peering through the window. It was dark and empty inside. He could see rows of books spanning back, vanishing into the dark recesses of the spacious room. Clusters of desks with computers and lamps and padded chairs for reading took up the more open areas. The checkout desk was dark and empty.

  Glancing around to make sure that nobody was lurking nearby, Barrie pulled the hook out of his backpack. The sharp tip glinted in the midday sunlight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, both from the heat and his nerves. Then he slid the hook under the window’s latch, twisted it, and popped open the lock.

  He glanced down at the hook, impressed. Then, he stuffed it back in his backpack and stashed his skateboard in the bushes outside. In one smooth motion, he slid the window open and slithered through it. Being small still had some benefits. This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck into a place he didn’t belong, and at this rate, it was unlikely to be the last.

  The air inside the library smelled stale and felt warmer than normal. Usually, it was kept at subzero temperatures by the blasting air-conditioning. Even so, Barrie felt a chill as he crept around the stacks. He kept expecting a security guard to bust him—or worse—for Captain Hook to appear.

  But it was deserted.

  After a few moments of searching, he located the right section. His eyes fell on the collection of old-school yearbooks that spanned back decades. The new ones were bright and the pages crisp, while the older ones were yellowed and dusty.

  He pulled down the most recent yearbook, flipping to the page for his fifth-grade class. Colorful pictures of his classmates stared back at him, all familiar faces. Sure enough, his picture was right there along with the other kids in his class. His eyes darted to his friends’ portraits.

  Michael looked stiff and uncomfortable in his picture. His mom had clearly made him comb his hair into a dorky style and wear that lame polo shirt. Then he found John pulling a goofy face with crossed eyes, even though that wasn’t allowed. Leave it to John to always break the rules. Barrie smirked, but then sadness swept through him again.

  He remembered their jeering laughter at the park and them telling him to go play with someone his own age.

  But I am your age! he had wanted to yell back at them.

  The yearbook was proof of that. He’d take it back to the park to show them that he was actually in their class. Maybe it was just an elaborate prank, and they were taking it too far. That had to be it.

  Buoyed by that thought, Barrie turned to leave, but then the yearbook from last year caught his eye. It couldn’t hurt to bring more than one to prove that they’d been in the same class together since kindergarten. After all, that was how they became best friends in the first place, learning to skateboard after school and falling in love with the same band.

  Barrie reached for the yearbook and pulled it down. He flipped to the fourth-grade class pictures, expecting to see his face superimposed in front of the fake blue background staring back at him.

  But Barrie didn’t see his picture. He double-checked the year and also the alphabetical order. Where was it?

  It has to be a mistake.

  He located Michael’s and John’s pictures. They were right where they should be, along with the other kids from his fourth-grade class. But where was Barrie’s class picture?

  A chill shot through him as he remembered Mr. Bates’s words.

  You stay in my class…forever.

  Barrie’s fingers trembled as he flipped to fifth grade. Mr. Bates smiled back, and then pictures of his fifth-grade students took up the rest of the page. These faces looked mostly unfamiliar to Barrie. Maybe he’d passed them in the hallways, but they were older than him. Kids mostly stuck with the other kids from their class.

  That’s when he saw something that made his heart jump. His picture. Barrie’s picture. Right there in the middle of the fifth-grade class.

  This is not happening.

  He flipped back to the fourth-grade page, double-checking it. Michael and John hadn’t budged. Then he double-checked the year. It all checked out. He should have been in fourth grade, too.

  His mouth went dry, and he tasted metal on his tongue. Quickly, he started pulling down yearbooks from the shelf, going back several years. In each yearbook, Barrie was pictured along with the fifth grade. Even when Michael and John were in kindergarten, Barrie was there with the fifth-grade class.

  Then, in one book, he spotted…Rita.

  His sister’s school picture was right next to his picture in the fifth-grade class.

  Barrie Darling. Rita Darling.

  Rita looked so young. She looked his age. It was so weird, seeing their two pictures next to one another this way. It made his stomach turn.

  We used to be the same age?

  Starting to feel panicked, Barrie grabbed the next yearbook. In this one, Rita was back in fourth grade, while Barrie remained in fifth. How could he have ever been older than his sister, who was now sixteen years old and in high school?

  He grabbed more yearbooks. Year after year, Barrie stayed in fifth grade while his classmates changed and strangers surrounded him. He found one where his sister was in kindergarten. Her girlish smile and gap-toothed grin sent a shudder down Barrie’s spine.

  Chilled, he dropped the yearbook. They had piled up at his feet in a big jumble. Hundreds of kids grinned back at him, looking ghostly in the dim lighting. Most of them were strangers to his eyes.

  With trembling hands, he reached for a yearbook that was labeled CLASS OF 1984. That was decades ago. He located the page for the fifth-grade class. Mr. Bates hadn’t been the teacher back then. A strange woman with permed hair and thick glasses grinned back. He glanced down at the pictures, then gasped in shock.

  “No, it can’t be true,” he whispered.

  But sure enough, there was his class picture, surrounded by strange, old-timey kids.

  I wasn’t even alive in 1984.

  But he was in the school yearbook, the same exact age as he was right now. He slammed the yearbook shut in horror. It tumbled from his hands, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud.

  Suddenly, the pages started flipping on their own, turning faster and faster. They landed back on Barrie’s class portrait from 1984. He was wearing strange clothes—acid-washed jeans and a baggy, fluorescent yellow sweatshirt. His hair was trimmed into a severe bowl cut.

  His own face stared back at him from the pages, even though it was impossible.

  Suddenly, a dark shadow fell over him.

  It was accompanied by a deep, jeering laugh that made Barrie’s skin crawl.

  Just as Barrie began to cautiously turn around, a sword slashed out of the shadows, shredding the 1984 class yearbook and scratching Barrie’s face from existence.

  Barrie bolted from the library in a panic. He abandoned the yearbooks, not bothering to bring the evidence that he’d come to collect. He ran down the row, but Hook’s ghost chased after him.

  Thump. Thump.

  Hook’s dark shadow grew closer. The footsteps grew louder.

  Barrie tried to turn on the speed. He had to get out of the library and get someplace where there were people. Someone who could help him. Then he heard something else—metal scraping against metal. Hook had unsheathed his sword.

  “Scurvy brat, I shall have my revenge!” the pirate’s voice boomed through the stacks.

  He slashed at Barrie’s head.

  Barrie dodged the sword, darting around the corner to the next aisle. He ran faster, weaving through the stacks. He sprinted for the window. He could see the bright sunlight shining through it. He was almost there. Just one more turn. He bolted down the next row.

  But Hook’s ghost stepped out right in front of him, blocking the escape route. The pirate captain was lit from the back so that only his dark silhouette was visible. Hook raised his sha
dowy sword. His voice reverberated through the library.

  “Blasted kid, I’ll make ye walk the plank!”

  Barrie staggered backward, then turned and ran back the way he’d come. He hooked a right, but this row dead-ended at a wall. He was trapped between the tall bookcases. He whipped around in a blind panic.

  This time, there was no escape. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

  Thump. Thump.

  Hook’s ghost advanced on him with his sword raised. For a split second, the sunlight caught on the pirate’s other arm—which ended in a bloody stump. Of course, Barrie had taken his hook. He felt a surge of guilt. No wonder Captain Hook’s ghost wanted revenge on him.

  Thump. Thump.

  Hook’s ghost drew closer, rising over him like a dark shadow.

  Barrie felt his mouth go dry, as adrenaline surged through him. The air felt suddenly colder. He shuddered violently, backing away. Desperately, he scanned for a way out.

  Thump. Thump.

  Barrie clawed open his backpack, searching for the hook. Maybe if he gave it back, then the ghost would stop haunting him. His fingers seized on the rusty metal.

  “Look, Mr. Pirate…Captain…sir…” Barrie stammered, holding up the hook. “I made a big mistake…I shouldn’t have taken it…you can have it back….”

  Still, Hook’s ghost advanced on him. Barrie backed up even more, his back hitting the wall with a thump.

  “Please,” Barrie begged. “Please…”

  That’s when he heard another noise coming from above him.

  Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

  It was soft but clearly audible. Barrie glanced up at the wall. He was standing under a wall clock, the old-fashioned kind with hands that ticked around the numbers on the face.

  Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

  He braced himself for Hook’s ghost to strike him down with his sword.

  But when he looked back, the pirate was gone.

  * * *

  Barrie scrambled through the library window and tumbled out, landing flat in the bushes next to his skateboard with a loud thud. It knocked the wind out of him.