Second Star to the Fright (Disney Chills 3)

Barrie crinkled his nose up when he walked into the kitchen. His mother stood by the coffee maker, watching it percolate like her life depended on it. She looked even more tired than normal. Dad sat at the kitchen table with his tablet and a big stack of bills, while Rita was still struggling over the last problem in her algebra homework.

That was all perfectly normal. But there were no pancakes cooking on the stove. That was weird. There were also no presents piled on the kitchen table. Weirder yet, nobody greeted him with wishes of happy birthday.

Nobody even looked at him.

They were probably too distracted by work and homework and coffee making. His mother needed to down at least two cups to be functional. He just needed to remind them.

“I’m excited for my birthday party after school today,” Barrie said in an enthusiastic voice. That should get their attention—he was never this cheerful so early. He reached over to pour himself some cereal. “I can’t wait for my triple fudge cake after school—”

“What do you mean, honey?” Mom looked up from the coffeemaker and frowned.

“Yeah, what birthday party?” Dad said, looking over. He set his tablet down. “Oh, does one of your friends have a birthday today?”

“Uh…it’s my birthday,” Barrie said slowly. He stared at his parents, wondering if aliens had possessed them. “I’m turning twelve today. Don’t you remember?”

He let out a chuckle, sure they were playing a trick on him. It was probably Rita’s idea. But nobody else laughed.

“You know…’cause that’s what happens on your birthday,” Barrie said, starting to get a weird feeling. “You turn a year older.”

Now even Rita looked up with a concerned expression.

“Goober, it’s not your birthday. You’re still only eleven.”

“Yeah, silly, it’s not your birthday.” His mother reached over to ruffle his hair.

Barrie stared at them in disbelief. It had to be a prank. They were good, too. They weren’t breaking the act. He hurried over to the wall calendar, determined to prove them wrong.

He tapped on the square for today.

“Look…over here…on the calendar,” Barrie said. “It says it’s my birthday….”

But then his voice dried up in his throat. The square for today was blank. Nothing was written there about his birthday. He was certain that it had been there only yesterday, complete with balloon drawings. He stared at the calendar in shock. It was like his birthday had been erased.

No, not erased.

That would leave some mark or sign behind.

It was as if it had never been written there in the first place.

“Uh, you can drop the act now,” Barrie said, his pulse beginning to race. He felt dizzy. “I get it. Nice prank. Very funny, Rita. Now, where did you hide my birthday presents?”

He started searching the kitchen for them, looking in the cabinets and rifling through the drawers. Then he peered under the kitchen table. But there were no presents.

His family watched him like he was going crazy.

“Prank?” Rita said. “You’re clearly the one pranking us. Nice try trying to get extra presents out of the parental units. But I’m pretty sure it’s not going to work.”

“But it’s not a trick,” Barrie said, straightening up. He felt dizzy suddenly, like he’d just gotten off the Tilt-A-Whirl. “I swear it’s true! It’s my birthday. I’m turning twelve today. I’m having a birthday party after school with Michael and John at the skate park. Mom is getting me a triple fudge cake.”

Dad shot him a weird look. “Kiddo, I hate to break it to you. But it’s not your birthday. Are you feeling okay?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure I’d remember the day you were born,” Mom chimed in. “I am your mother, after all. I was there when you came into this world. It was one of the best days of my life.”

“Yeah, and I’d remember the day they brought you home from the hospital,” Rita said in her best sarcastic voice. “And effectively ruined my life.”

Barrie stared at them all in shock. Nothing in their expressions indicated that they were anything other than deadly serious. They really didn’t remember his birthday. But how…? Why…? Out of nowhere, his stomach clenched. His eyes darted to his backpack, which held the hook.

It couldn’t be.