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He finished his cereal; then Mom informed them that they were going to be late for school. Still in a bad mood—though lately, that seemed to be her natural state—Rita grabbed her keys, backpack, and the canister of bleach wipes.
“Come on, Goober,” she said in a pouty voice. “Let’s get this over with.”
Barrie picked up his backpack and followed her toward the front door. He turned back to say goodbye to his parents. His father was still studying the maritime museum website.
Suddenly, an image of a pirate flashed onto the screen—beady eyes, long black hair, and a thin black mustache. He sported a crimson jacket and large pirate hat with a fluffy feather sprouting out of the ornate ribbon.
But that wasn’t what caught Barrie’s attention. Instead of a hand, his left arm ended in a silver hook. Barrie’s eyes darted to the bold headline at the top of the website: The Mystery of Captain Hook and His Missing Hand.
It reminded Barrie of the mysteries in his books. Only, this was a real-life mystery.
But before he could really consider it, Rita grabbed him by the backpack, dragging him through the front door.
“Don’t you dare touch anything in my car,” she hissed under her breath. “Or, I’ll make you walk the plank.”
“Aye, aye, matey,” Barrie said, promising himself that he’d smear boogers on the door handle just to teach her a lesson. She obviously deserved it.
“Lemme see your hands, Goobers,” Rita said, passing out sanitizer wipes to Barrie, Michael, and John. She narrowed her eyes. “Drop the cheese puffs, Michael.”
She was supposed to be picking them up after school, but she stood blocking the door to her sky-blue electric car. Their parents had bought it used for her sixteenth birthday with the promise that she’d take over driving the school carpool. The car was her most prized possession—the ticket to her freedom and nights out with her friends.
And lately, Barrie had noticed that impressing her friends was all Rita seemed to care about. She spent hours primping in the bathroom, curling her hair, and applying endless layers of makeup. If she wasn’t doing that, she was texting them on her phone and trying to make them laugh. She constantly worried about what they thought—yet another reason being a teenager seemed like no fun.
Barrie loved his two best friends. He didn’t have to worry about impressing them, or what outfit he wore to school, or if his naturally curly hair was frizzing out. They’d known each other since they’d been assigned to the same table in kindergarten, and he knew that they’d be best friends forever. They called themselves the Lost Boys, after their favorite band, of course. They even had a secret handshake and a special knock that they used to sneak through each other’s windows after curfew so they could play video games. Their families even lived on the same cul-de-sac, which made the covert activity that much easier.
Michael, who was the shorter and stockier of Barrie’s two friends, clutched the bag of cheese puffs protectively, but Rita yanked them out of his florescent-orange fingers.
“Hey, I was still eating those!” Michael yelped. She ignored him and tossed the bag in the trash.
“My carpool, my rules,” Rita said, leveling them each with a penetrating stare. “I know that Mom was lax and let you do whatever the heck you wanted to her car, but there’s a new captain in town. You do what I say—or else.”
“Dude, your sister is mucho scary,” John whispered to Barrie and Michael, as he wiped his long fingers with one of her wipes. John was tall and reed-thin. He and Michael used to joke that when they stood next to each other, they resembled the number ten.
“Seriously,” Michael said, glancing mournfully at his discarded cheese puff bag.
Each of them dutifully finished wiping their hands under Rita’s close watch, then piled into her back seat. Barrie didn’t dare try to ride shotgun. The last thing his sister wanted was to be seen sitting with her little brother. Plus, he wanted to sit next to his friends.
They pulled away from the school. Barrie watched the building fade away in the rearview mirror. He’d had a terrible day that started with him getting busted by Mr. Bates for not completing his math homework, so he had to stay inside during recess to catch up, and it ended with even more math homework getting piled on top of his desk.
It was his birthday weekend. The last thing he wanted to do was homework.
And he knew it would only get worse as he got older. Next Friday, he’d graduate and officially be in junior high. His eyes fell on Rita’s overflowing backpack in the front passenger seat.
It could be worse, he thought. I could be in high school.
Rita followed the familiar route home through their quaint town of New London. The road snaked past the ocean, where steep cliffs plunged down to the rocky beach. Waves lapped up at the rocks, eroding them slowly.
In the distance, Barrie could just make out the marina by the masts of the many ships and boats docked there. Clouds hung in the sky, occasionally spattering the windows with raindrops.
As the car came to a stop at a red light, Barrie reached for the window button, but Rita clicked the child safety lock before he could hit it.
“What did I say, Goober?” she said, catching his eye. “Repeat it back to me.”
“Uh, your carpool…your rules?” Barrie stammered back.
“Yup, that’s right. Don’t touch anything back there,” Rita said, turning around to glare at them. “Or you will each die horrible, painful, excruciating deaths. Got it?”
“Dude, your sister’s not kidding. She might actually kill us,” John whispered. “She should keep her eyes on the road at all times. Hands at ten and two. That’s a thing, right?”
