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Authors: JoAnn S. Dawson

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BOOK: Star of Wonder
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12

Where Is Star?

LAST ONE TO Lucky Foot is a rotten egg!” Mary hollered, pedaling her bike furiously up the farm lane neck and neck with Jody.
The girls rode their bikes to the farm each morning from their homes at opposite ends of the road, and it just so happened
that this morning they had reached the long gravelly lane at the same instant. It then became a race to see who would reach
the stable first. Skidding to a stop in front of the white wooden doors at precisely the same moment, the race was declared
a dead heat.

“It’s a tie!” Jody yelled, wiping her sweaty forehead with the sleeve of her T-shirt. “No rotten eggs!” she giggled.

Mary propped her bike up on its kickstand and opened the stable door. “Hello, Walter. Good day, Colonel Sanders,” she greeted
the birds roosting on the top board of Lady’s stall. “How ever are you this morning?” The Colonel responded by shaking his
head and ruffling his feathers, while Walter just sat and cocked his head sideways.

“Mare, I had an idea when I woke up this morning,” Jody declared. “Why don’t we put Star’s saddle and bridle on and try longeing
him? My dad gave me that longe line for my birthday, and I’ve never tried it. I bet he would learn really fast!”

“Excellent idea!” Mary agreed. “Let’s bring him in and feed him first, and then we’ll get started.”

Mary and Jody went to the Dutch door leading into the paddock and looked over. “Star!” Mary called. “Come in, come in, we’re
going to learn something new today!”

“Star?” Jody called again, looking around the empty paddock. “Where are you?”

“Hmph,” Mary exclaimed, “he must be hiding back in his little corner.”

“That’s weird,” Jody replied. “He’s always right here waiting for us in the morning.” She opened the bottom of the Dutch door
and walked to the narrow space between Lucky Foot Stable and the big white dairy barn, where Star sometimes liked to hide.

“Mare, he’s not here,” she said worriedly, peering into the space and then around the paddock again as if hoping Star would
miraculously appear from thin air. “Where could he be?”

“Maybe Willie came and got him after milking and turned him out in the pasture again with Lady and Gypsy,” Mary offered. “Maybe
he wanted to see how he would act with the cows today, and he didn’t want to wait for us,” she continued, not sounding at
all sure that Willie would do any such thing. The girls stared at each other for an instant, and then in unison they turned
and took off at a gallop toward the pasture.

Before they reached the pasture gate, Mary and Jody could see Lady and Gypsy grazing peacefully under the old weeping willow
tree. Star, however, was nowhere to be seen—not playing among the cows, not near the barnyard door, and not by the little
stream that meandered aimlessly through the pasture and into the woods. The girls stood and stared mutely at the scene before
them until Mary found her voice.

“We’ve got to find Willie,” she said confidently. “I bet Star got out of the paddock, and he’s wandering around the farm somewhere,
probably up by the chicken house. Oh, I hope he didn’t get into the grain room! He’ll eat himself sick!” And with that, the
girls took off at a dead run toward the big stone house where Mr. McMurray lived.

Mary and Jody were gasping for air when they reached the old farmhouse, but they knocked frantically on the stout screen door
without even stopping to catch their breath. In a moment Mrs. McMurray appeared and looked down at the red-faced girls in
surprise.

“What’s all this, then?” she asked, pushing the screen door open with a squeak. “What’s happened?”

“Mrs. McMurray,” panted Mary, “is Willie here? Did he come in for breakfast yet?”

“Why, sure he has, he’s come and gone,” Mrs. McMurray replied. “He doesn’t stay long, you know. Always too much to do. Now
what’s the trouble?”

“Oh, Mrs. McMurray, have you seen Star? Has he been up here wandering around the chicken yard or anything?” Jody asked. “He’s
not in his paddock, and we don’t know where he’s gone.”

“Star? You mean the baby?” Mrs. McMurray asked, wiping her hands on her apron. Mary and Jody nodded hopefully.

“No, I haven’t seen him around this way. How could he get out of the paddock? Was the gate left open? Or the stable door?”

Mary and Jody looked at each other. They hadn’t thought to check how Star may have gotten out of the paddock. But they knew
the gate was closed, and so was the stable door.

“We don’t know, ma’am,” Jody said tearfully, “but he’s gone and we have to find Willie!”

“Well, I think he went home for a few minutes. He usually does right after breakfast. You should check there.”

Before Mrs. McMurray had finished her sentence, Mary and Jody flew off in the direction of the farm’s little tenant house,
where Willie lived. They ran up the gravel driveway, leapt onto the porch, and began pounding furiously on the wooden frame
of the screen door.

“Willie!” Mary yelled, after knocking for only a few seconds without a reply. “Willie, are you in there? It’s Mary and Jody—we
need you!”

“I’m here, I’m here. What do you want?” Willie called grumpily from somewhere in the back of the house.

“Willie, can you come out? We need you!” Jody repeated.

“Hold yer horses, I’ll be out in a minute. Come in if you want to.”

The girls pushed open the screen door and stood just inside the tiny living room of Willie’s house, fidgeting and biting their
fingernails as they waited for Willie. Mary began pacing around the room in a circle while Jody looked nervously through the
screen as if expecting Star to come trotting up the walk at any moment.

Suddenly Mary stopped pacing. She stood still and stared at a collection of framed photographs on an end table by Willie’s
tattered easy chair. Picking up one of the photos, she peered at it more closely, her mouth open in shock.

“Jody!” she exclaimed in a stage whisper. “Come here!”

“What?” Jody asked, annoyed that Mary could be distracted by anything during the current crisis.

“Look at this!” Mary continued, holding the photo up for Jody to see. “It’s Willie,” she said, pointing to a handsome young
man in a group of men on horseback, “on a horse. In uniform! He must’ve been in the army or something!”

Jody picked up another of the photos—this one of Willie with a man in a ten-gallon hat and a bandana around his neck. At the
bottom of the photo was an inscription. Jody wiped the dust from the glass and squinted to read it. “Look at this, Mare, it
says, ‘To Will: thanks for all your help. Good riding! John Wayne.’”

“John Wayne!” Mary squealed. “Let me see that!” She grabbed the photo from Jody’s hand and held it close to her face. “Jode!
It says John Wayne!”

“I know, I know,” Jody said, puzzled. “Mare, who’s John Wayne?”

Mary looked at Jody in disbelief. “Who’s John Wayne? Jody, I can’t believe you asked me that question! John Wayne, major motion
picture star of all the great Westerns? Most excellent horseback rider and role model for our circus act? Don’t you remember
the night you came over and me and you and mom watched
True Grit?

“Was that the one where the horse fell down and died from exhaustion because those two people were galloping it all over without
stopping?” Jody asked with a grimace. “I covered my eyes and refused to watch the rest of the movie, remember?”

“Well, yeah, that was a bad part,” Mary admitted. “But that was John Wayne in the movie! And this is John Wayne in the picture
with Willie! How in the world . . .”

“What’s all the ruckus about?” Willie’s voice came from the hallway. Jody and Mary hastily put the photos back and turned
to face him as he entered the room. In the excitement of seeing the photo of John Wayne, they had almost forgotten why they
had come. But at the sight of Willie, they quickly remembered.

“Willie!” they screeched in unison. “Do you know where Star is?”

“Star?” Willie asked, pulling on his earlobe. “Last time I seen him he was in his stall.”

“In his stall?” Jody and Mary looked at each other. “We didn’t look in his stall!” And off they flew once again, back to Lucky
Foot Stable, with Willie hobbling along behind.

When Willie finally entered the stable, he was met by the sight of two blubbering girls going from Lady’s stall to Gypsy’s
to Star’s, looking in each one as if Star would appear any minute out of nowhere.

“Willie, he’s not here. He’s not here,” Jody wailed. “When did you put him in his stall?”

“Me, put him in his stall?” Willie asked, scratching the side of his head. “I didn’t put him in his stall. You did. Yesterday
afternoon.”

“Oh, but we turned him out after that because it was a nice night, and we thought he would be happier outside.”

“You turned him out . . .” suddenly Willie stopped scratching his head. His hand dropped to his side, and the color drained
from his face. “You turned him out . . . in the paddock?”

“Yes, Willie! Last night!” Mary cried. “He was . . .” Mary stopped in mid-sentence at the stricken look on Willie’s face.
“Willie? Willie, what’s wrong?”

“Now, now, let me just think a minute . . . he was in the paddock this mornin’. . . and . . .” Willie didn’t say any more.

“Willie, what are you thinking?” Jody asked frantically. “Do you know where he is?”

“Well, now we had a load of calves go out this mornin’ . . . if he was in the paddock . . . we loaded the calves in the paddock
. . . up the loadin’ ramp . . .”

“Well, we had a load of calves go out this mornin’. . .
If he was in the paddock . . .”

Willie looked at the girls, who stared back at him with their mouths wide open.

“Willie, where did the calves go?” Mary finally asked in a tiny voice.

Willie turned and looked at the loading ramp. He looked up at the sky. He scratched his head and pulled his earlobe. Finally
he looked at the girls and winced. “Well, now, you know they were veal calves . . . raised for meat . . .”

Mary and Jody looked at each other with their mouths wide open, but no sound emerged. Then as one they found their voice.


WILLIE!
” they screamed.

13

The Slaughterhouse

WILLIE’S OLD RED pickup truck had never traveled so fast over the bumpy country road as it did now, far beyond its usual clip
of twenty-five miles per hour. Willie occasionally glanced sidelong at Mary wringing her hands and Jody biting her fingernails
as they jounced along in shocked silence. After the terrible knowledge had sunk in that Star had somehow gotten himself trapped
with the load of calves destined for the slaughterhouse, Willie and the girls had rushed to put the old wooden sides on Willie’s
truck that they had built for taking Lady to her first horse show. Now the truck bed was ready for a passenger, and they each
silently prayed that Star would soon be jouncing along behind them on their way home.

Willie drove in silence for a moment longer, but he had made up his mind to break the news he had been keeping to himself.
Better to let them know now,
he thought,
rather than have another surprise later on.
He tugged on his earlobe and cleared his throat.

“Now, you know,” he said gently, “I’m not real sure which place that driver went to. There’s a couple . . . a couple of .
. . places like . . . that around these parts. I’m headin’ to the one where I think he went. But if it’s not this one, we’ll
have to turn around and try the other one.”

Mary and Jody looked at Willie without saying a word. Jody’s hand went slowly to her mouth and finally a sob escaped, then
another, until her shoulders shook with the burden of her lament. Mary silently took the bandana from her head and offered
it to Jody. When she didn’t take it, Mary used it to dry her own tears while Willie drove on, stone-faced.

Rounding the next curve, Willie suddenly put on the brakes. The sign for Curran’s Rendering Plant loomed ominously by the
side of the road. Mary raised her head as Willie made the sharp right turn and began creeping slowly down the long gravel
lane that led to the plant.

Now that they had reached their destination, Willie was in no hurry to see what they might encounter at the end of that lane.

“Ugghh, what is that smell?” Mary asked, grimacing and holding her nose. Willie glanced at her sharply, and Mary, realizing
what the smell was, clapped her hand over her mouth. But it was too late. Jody’s head jerked up, and she looked out the window
just in time to see, past the stand of trees around the last bend in the lane and down in a hollow, an unimposing gray cinder
block building. The building could have been used for almost any purpose. What made it different were the pens. Built against
one side of the structure were row upon row of wooden pens. They were separated by gates, and full of livestock of all descriptions.
Cows, steers, pigs, sheep, even goats bawled and bleated and grunted in a cacophony of sound. Several livestock trucks, some
double-decker and built of aluminum, and others smaller, with simple wooden sides, were lined up near the pens, waiting to
unload. Willie came to a full stop in the middle of the lane and the three stared at the sight below them until Mary found
her voice.

“Look, there’s the calf pens!” She pointed at a row of enclosures just visible on the other side of the building. Jody looked
through the windshield of the truck and saw the calves milling around in the pen, bawling for their mothers, and she began
to bawl herself, louder than before, her hands covering her face.

“Willie, I can’t look!” she wailed. “Is Star in there? Do you see him anywhere?”

Willie crept the truck forward and patted Jody awkwardly on the arm. “Listen, now, I can’t imagine they would unload him with
the calves and not see he was different. As soon as they seen he was a colt and not a calf, they’d know to separate him and
call the farm. I’m just lookin’ for that truck and driver that picked him up, and I don’t see them any-wheres.”

Then it was Mary’s turn to wail. “Oh, Willie, you mean he might be at the other place? How far away is it? Can we just drive
down closer to the pens and look to be sure? Maybe he’s in there and we can’t see him! Or maybe the truck is around the other
side of the building!” she babbled.

“I’m goin,’ I’m goin,’” Willie said, drifting down the hill toward the calf pens.

“Oh, Willie, he must be so scared!” Jody lamented. “And confused—he’s probably wondering why we haven’t rescued him yet! Oh,
please let him be here,” she prayed.

Willie drove down to the calf pens and around the other side of the building and even near the holding pens for the larger
livestock, but Star was nowhere to be seen. Just as they made one more pass, a man appeared by the front of the building,
walking toward the cow pens. Willie stopped the truck and waved to him. The man waved back and approached the truck.

“Mornin,’” Willie greeted the man nonchalantly as if nothing was amiss.

“Mornin,’ sir,” the man replied cordially. “What can I do for you? Nothin’ in the back of the truck, I see.”

“No, no, not today,” Willie chuckled, taking off his hat and scratching the side of his head. Mary and Jody wiggled impatiently,
waiting for Willie to ask about Star. He finally replaced his hat and went on, “I was just wonderin’ if you’ve had anything
out of the ordinary come in this mornin’?”

“Out of the ordinary? You mean, like a llama or something?” the man laughed.

“No, no, I was thinkin’ more along the lines of a colt? A black-and-white colt—these girls lost theirs, and they think he
might be here somewhere,” Willie chuckled again.

The man started to laugh, but when he glanced in the truck and saw the stricken faces of the two girls, he stopped and shook
his head. “No, can’t say I’ve seen anything like that today,” he said gravely. “But if I hear tell of a lost colt in the vicinity,
I’ll be sure to get in touch with you,” he continued. “What farm are you with?”

“McMurray’s dairy,” Willie replied. “He ships calves here a few times a year. We think the colt might have got mixed in with
the shipment somehow, ornery bugger that he is.”

“Well, I don’t know of a shipment coming from there today, but then the boss doesn’t tell me everything. And he’s not here
right now to ask about it. You might want to try going down the road to Gardner’s.”

“Yep, that’s our next stop,” Willie said. “Thank you for your time.”

Mary and Jody waited for Willie to drive a good distance up the road before they turned to him and moaned in unison, “Willie!”

“What?” Willie asked. “I’m drivin’ as fast as I can. We’ll get over to Gardner’s, and Star will be there waitin’ for us. He
must be there, if he ain’t here,” he continued, trying to sound confident for the girl’s sake.

“But what if he’s not?” Mary worried. “How can you be so calm, and even laughing with that man and everything? Star could
be . . .”

“Whoa!” Willie exclaimed suddenly. He turned almost completely around in his seat, and then he slammed on the brakes.

“What? What is it, Willie?” Jody yelled.

But Willie was too busy making a sudden turn in the middle of the road to reply. The old truck almost went up on two wheels
as Willie spun it around and stepped on the gas like a teenager. Mary and Jody grabbed hands and the dashboard to keep from
being flung against the passenger door.

“Willie! What in the world . . .” Mary shrieked. Then she peered over the dashboard to see a blue and silver truck with wooden
sides on the road ahead of them, heading in the direction of the slaughterhouse.

If I hear tell of a lost colt in the vicinity, I’ll be sure
to get in touch with you,” he continued.

“Willie! Is that the truck? Is that where Star is?” Jody implored.

“That’s the truck,” Willie said, stone-faced. “Lucky I seen it when it passed by. Whether Star is in there, that I don’t know.
But I reckon we’ll find out.”

“Willie! Blow your horn! Make him stop!” Mary yelled, tugging frantically on Willie’s arm.

“He’ll stop soon enough when he gets to the plant,” Willie said. “I’ll talk to him then.”

Mary and Jody wanted to fling open the truck door and chase the truck down the road in the few minutes it took to arrive back
at the plant. Instead they squinted through the dusty windshield, desperately trying to get a glimpse of Star through the
narrow slats in the heavy wooden doors at the rear of the truck. Even Willie found himself leaning over the steering wheel,
narrowing his eyes and swerving slightly in the road to try and get a better look. But Star was nowhere to be seen.

BOOK: Star of Wonder
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