Second Star to the Fright (Disney Chills 3)

Michael nodded. “Right, so what if it did the same thing to Captain Hook?”

“You mean, it made it so he stopped aging?” John said, catching on. “Interesting theory, Sherlock. That would explain how he could still be alive after all this time.”

“Yeah, and it would also explain why he’s so angry that Barrie stole his hook,” Michael went on. “I mean, aside from the poor aesthetics of walking around with a bloody stump.”

John snorted a laugh. “Not sure a hook is exactly fashionable.”

“Uh, it is if you’re a freaky pirate captain,” Michael said. “It’s practically required. Anyway, if Captain Hook doesn’t get that hook back, then he could grow old and die.”

“And soon,” John added. “That’s probably why he’s growing more impatient and attacking Barrie in public in the middle of the day. I bet his life is literally ticking away.”

“So, you think if I give the hook back,” Barrie said, processing it all and tapping the letter, “then Captain Hook will leave me alone—and it will also reverse the curse?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, I think you have only one choice—you have to return the hook to Captain Hook’s ship. And you have to do it tonight. You can’t wait much longer. Not only is Hook growing bolder, but the curse also seems to be growing stronger, too.”

“Right, you don’t have much time left,” John added. “Who knows what could happen next? You could wake up tomorrow and your parents wouldn’t even remember you.”

“Yeah, and Rita,” Barrie said. They looked at him blankly. “My evil sister,” he reminded them. “Though, that might not be the worst thing.”

They all cracked up. Barrie’s eyes flicked over the letter and rusty hook, then back to his friends. Captain Hook seemed to stare at them from the laptop. Barrie shuddered.

“Think it’ll work?” he said, feeling the first flicker of hope in a long time.

“Well, what other choice do you have?” John pointed out.

“Yeah, exactly,” Michael agreed. His eyes darted to the hook lying on the bedspread. “The power to not grow up will leave you, just like it left Hook when you stole it.”

“You’re right,” Barrie said. “Also, if I give Hook what he wants, then hopefully he’ll leave me alone.”

Barrie stared at his friends in gratitude. He’d known he needed their help. He just couldn’t believe that he had waited so long to trust them with his problems. Despite all the terrible things that had happened to him since he stole the hook, Barrie felt almost normal sitting with his best friends, trying to solve a problem. This was what friends were for, right?

Not just the good times, but also the bad ones.

“Okay, that means I have to sneak back onto the Jolly Roger somehow,” Barrie said, thinking aloud. “I’ll have to get past the guards. It’ll be dangerous. If I get caught, then I could be in big trouble. I mean, I stole an artifact from a museum—”

“Don’t you mean…we?” Michael cut him off. “We could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Uh, yeah,” John added. “We’re not letting you go alone.”

“No way,” Barrie said, shaking his head. “It’s way too dangerous. Didn’t you hear what I said? I could get arrested. Not to mention Captain Hook is after me. I’d hate it if you got into trouble because of my bad decisions. Or worse…” He trailed off, feeling a stab of guilt.

But then Michael grinned and thrust his hand in the air.

“Aye, matey, sounds like an adventure,” he said in a cockney accent. “I’m in!”

“Lost Boys forever,” John added. But then he frowned. “But how are we going to get there? The maritime museum is all the way out at the marina. We don’t have much time left.”

“Yeah, we can’t exactly skate there,” Michael said. “It would take forever.”

Barrie frowned, racking his brain. He stared at the hook, remembering that one moment on the pirate ship—the moment he and his sister had bonded.

“Right, I’ve got an idea,” Barrie said in a determined voice. “Let’s meet in front of my house in an hour.” Michael and John shared a look.

“Ummm…where’s that?”

* * *

Barrie rode his skateboard home. His Vans scuffed the pavement, propelling him ahead. The sun was slipping below the horizon, casting his quaint cul-de-sac in shadows. All he heard was the faint call of the cicadas’ summer song and the familiar sound of his skateboard wheels.