Woody smiled and dug through the trash for more supplies—he found glue, wooden sticks, pencils, and a plastic spork. While the kids focused on their projects, he climbed out of the trash can. Without anyone noticing, Woody dropped the supplies onto Bonnie’s table and hurried back to her cubby.
From the safety of Bonnie’s backpack, he watched her finish collecting the dropped crayons and go back to her seat. She sifted through the supplies on her table. Her face lit up when she saw the spork. Woody watched with curiosity as Bonnie got to work.
Moments later, she held up the spork, admiring her creation. It now had feet, long pipe-cleaner arms, a mouth, and two googly eyes. Woody was a bit confused by the strange art project, but he was thrilled to see Bonnie finally looking happy.
Bonnie flipped the spork over and wrote her name on the stick feet, just like she did with all her toys. Woody watched with pride when Miss Wendy approached and said, “Oh, Bonnie. That is so clever.”
Bonnie held up what she’d made and spoke in her new friend’s voice. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Forky. Nice to meet you.”
“Well, hello, Forky,” said Miss Wendy. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Miss Wendy.”
Later that day, when it was time to go home, Bonnie and the other kids burst out of the classroom, laughing and calling to their parents.
Bonnie showed Forky off to her mom and dad. “Look what I made! His name is Forky!”
“Oh, wow!” said Bonnie’s dad. “Look at that!”
“That is so cool!” said her mom.
Bonnie’s parents had a surprise because she had been so brave at orientation.
“Since school doesn’t start for another week, we are going on a road trip!” her dad announced.
“Can I bring Forky?” asked Bonnie.
“Of course you can!” said her mom.
Bonnie cheered. She unzipped her backpack and tucked Forky inside.
“And they said I shouldn’t go to school with Bonnie,” Woody said to himself. He looked over at Forky. “We’ve got this kindergarten thing under control, eh?” He smirked. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a spork.”
Suddenly, one of Forky’s googly eyes moved. Woody froze and squinted at the spork, wondering if his own eyes were playing tricks on him. He moved in for a closer look and…Forky’s lips quivered. Then Forky sat up and gasped.
As soon as she got home, Bonnie ran up to her bedroom and tossed her backpack onto the floor before darting back out.
Once Bonnie was gone, Woody unzipped the backpack and climbed out.
Trixie gasped at the sight of him. “He did go to kindergarten!” she exclaimed.
Shocked, all the toys began chattering.
“You tryin’ to get Bonnie in trouble?” asked Buttercup.
“No, of course not,” said Woody.
“You could have been confiscated,” said Dolly.
Rex turned to Hamm. “What does that mean?”
“Taken away,” answered Hamm.
“No!” shouted Rex.
“Or worse,” said Jessie. “You could’ve been lost.”
“No, no, no, guys, listen,” Woody said, trying to explain. “Bonnie had a great day in class, and we’re going on a road trip—”
“Vacation!” shouted Buttercup. The rest of the toys cheered.
“Yeah, but then something really weird happened,” said Woody. “Bonnie made a friend in class.”
“Oh, she’s already making friends!” Dolly said proudly.
“No, no,” said Woody, shaking his head. “She literally MADE a new friend.” The toys watched, confused, as he leaned into the open backpack. “Hey…it’s okay,” he said in a gentle voice. “Come on out. That’s it. That’s it. Come on, there you go….”
Forky whimpered as he peered out and saw all the toys staring at him.
Woody continued to coax Forky out until he finally emerged. Woody turned to the group. “Everyone, I want you to meet…Forky!”
“Wow!” said Jessie.
“Golly…Bob…Howdy…,” said Slinky.
“Look how long his arms are!” said Rex.
Forky’s googly eyes moved from one toy to the next as he wondered what was going on. He turned to Woody and asked, “Trash?”
Woody laughed. “No…toys. They’re all toys,” he explained.
“T-t-t-trash?” Forky asked again.
Woody pointed toward a trash can in the corner of Bonnie’s bedroom. “No, no, no—that’s the trash. These are your friends!” He looked at the gang.
The toys greeted Forky, but Forky screamed. Terrified, he fell over.
“Trash!” said Forky.
“Shhh, no, no, it’s okay,” said Woody, picking up the spork.
Forky kept repeating, “Trash!”
The toys stood staring at Forky, confused.
“Woody, I have a question,” said Trixie, breaking the awkward silence. “Um, well, actually, not just one. I have all of them. I have all the questions.”
“Uh…why does he want to go to the trash?” asked Buttercup.
“Because he was made from trash,” explained Woody. “Look, I know this is a little strange, but you gotta trust me on this—Forky is the most important toy to Bonnie right now.”
“Trash. Trash!” Forky said. He fell flat on his face. Woody helped him get back to his feet.
“Important?” asked Mr. Pricklepants. “He’s a spork!”
“Yes, yes, I know, but this spork, this toy, is crucial to Bonnie getting adjusted to kindergarten,” said Woody.
Forky’s pipe-cleaner arms slid down his body and rested on his feet. Woody moved them back into place, securing them with a twist.
“Woody, aren’t you being a little dramatic about this?” asked Dolly.
Woody faced the group. “I know this is new to everybody, but you should see how much this little guy means to Bonnie.” He paused. “Bonnie was really upset, and I swear, once she made Forky, it was a complete transformation.”
“Uh, Woody?” asked Jessie.
“Just a second, Jessie,” said Woody, then continued. “So we all have to make sure nothing happens to him.”
“Something happened to him,” said Jessie, pointing toward the trash can.
Woody turned to see Forky laughing and leaping into the trash can with joy.
“Chutes and ladders,” Woody said under his breath as he rushed over. The gang watched as Woody hopped in and tried to pull Forky out.
“Oh, trash. Home,” said Forky, delighted. “Trash! Trash!”
“No, no, no—you’re a toy now!” said Woody, struggling. He smiled up at the gang watching from above. “Well, I guess I’ll…just babysit him until he’s used to the room.”
The toys heard Bonnie coming and fell into toy mode as she came into the room. She went to her backpack and dug through it.
“Forky? Where are you, Forky?” she said.
Behind her, Forky appeared to fly out of the trash can and onto her bed.
She turned and smiled. “There you are!” she said. “I thought I’d lost you, silly.” She climbed up next to him with her backpack, and as she turned to look through it, Forky dove back into the trash. But as if he were bouncing off a trampoline, he immediately sailed back out and onto her bed again. Every time Bonnie turned her back, Forky jumped into the trash can, but Woody was inside, waiting. And each and every time, he flung Forky back toward Bonnie.
Later that night, when Bonnie was fast asleep, clutching Forky, he wriggled out of her grip. Once again, he dove into the trash.
But Woody was still waiting inside. Woody dutifully climbed out and put Forky into Bonnie’s hands.
“Big girl scary,” said Forky.
“Like I said before, Bonnie’s not scary,” whispered Woody. “She loves you, and you need to—” Bonnie stirred. Woody froze, fearing she would wake up, but she just let out a sleepy sigh and pulled Woody close to her, hugging him. Woody settled in beside Forky and smiled. He was happy to sleep in Bonnie’s ar
ms again.
When Woody woke the next morning, Bonnie was still asleep. He looked over to check on Forky, but their new friend was gone. Woody sat up in a panic and crawled to the edge of the bed. “Forky!” he said in a loud whisper.
He peered into the trash can, and there was Forky, fast asleep, cuddled up with some bits of trash. Just as Woody was about to fish him out, the bedroom door opened.
“Rise and shine!” sang Bonnie’s dad.
Woody fell off the bed in toy mode, knocking the trash can over and spilling its contents, including Forky, onto the floor. Bonnie’s dad didn’t notice.
“Who wants to go on a road trip?” he asked, full of enthusiasm.
Bonnie sat up. “Me!” she said. “I’m gonna bring Dolly and Buttercup and Forky and—” Bonnie looked down and realized Forky was gone. “Forky? Where are you?”
“He’s gotta be here somewhere,” said her dad. While their backs were turned, Forky flew onto Bonnie’s pillow.
“Forky? Forky!” she exclaimed, grabbing him.
“Come on,” said her dad, scooping her up and carrying her out. “Let’s eat some breakfast and hit the road.”
“Let’s go, Forky!” said Bonnie, smiling at him.
The door shut, and Dolly approached Woody. “Whoa,” she said. “He’s quite a handful, Woody. You need help with him on the road trip?”
“No. I got it, I got it,” said Woody. “We’ll just be stuck in an RV, he can’t get far. I got this.”
After breakfast, Bonnie and her parents climbed into the RV and headed out for their family road trip. Bonnie sat in her booster seat at the table inside the RV, coloring, with Woody and Forky beside her.
Forky’s eyes lit up as he watched Bonnie crumple one of her drawings and toss it into a small trash can by the RV door. When Bonnie turned to get more paper, Forky bolted toward the can! Woody grabbed him and pulled him down just as Bonnie turned back to begin another drawing. When she went to look for glue, Forky tried to escape to the trash again, but Woody snatched him up before she noticed.
As the day went on, Woody continued to stop Forky each time he tried to get into the trash. When the family made pit stops, Woody’s job got even more challenging. Forky tried to jump into the restaurant and gas station trash cans. Woody stayed on constant alert and always managed to tackle, lasso, or grab Forky in the nick of time.
By the end of the day, Woody was exhausted. That night, while Bonnie’s dad drove and her mom slept in the passenger seat, Bonnie fell asleep clutching Forky like a teddy bear. Down on the floor, Buzz made his way over to Woody.
“Hey, Buddy,” said Buzz.
“Hey, Buzz.” Woody sat up and shifted his weight as he tried to stay awake.
“You doing okay?” whispered Buzz.
“I don’t know,” said Woody. “I know you weren’t around when Andy was little, but…I don’t remember it being this hard.”
Buzz offered to take a shift for Woody, but he refused. “No, no,” he said. “I need to do this. That little voice inside me would never leave me alone if I gave up.”
“Hmmm,” Buzz said thoughtfully. “Who do you think it is?”
“Who?” asked Woody.
“That voice inside you. Who do you think it is?”
“Uh. Me,” said Woody, confused by his friend’s strange question. “You know, my conscience?” Woody looked at Buzz and was surprised by his blank expression. “The part of you that…tells you things? What you’re really thinking?”
“Fascinating,” said Buzz, taking in his friend’s words. “So your inner voice…advises you.” Buzz tapped Woody’s pull string and then looked down at his own voice-command button. He pressed it, and the recorded voice said, “There’s a secret mission in unchartered space.”
Woody gasped and jumped up, trying to quiet him. He glanced at Bonnie and was happy to see she was still asleep. But when he looked at her arms to check on Forky, he saw that the little guy was gone.
“Oh, no!” said Woody. He and Buzz scanned the RV as Woody called for Forky in a hushed voice. Woody’s eyes popped when he spotted Forky climbing toward an open window!
“I am not a toy!” announced Forky. He pulled himself up to the window ledge. “I’m a spork.”
“Be quiet!” said Woody, scrambling after him.
“I was made for soup, salad, maybe chili, and then the trash. I’m litter. Freedom!” he cheered—as he jumped out the window!
Woody froze, stunned. “Hamm, how far to our next stop?” he asked.
“Five point three two miles, give or take,” answered Hamm.
“I can make that. I’ll meet you at the RV park,” said Woody, heading toward the window, determined to find Forky and get back before Bonnie’s family left the RV park the next morning.
“Woody, hold on a minute—” started Buzz. But the cowboy had already made up his mind. Determined to retrieve Forky, he jumped out of the moving vehicle and landed on the rear bumper. He tried to balance and ready himself for the jump, but the RV hit a pothole and he went flying. Woody screamed as he hit the pavement. After a moment, he took a breath and shook it off, rising to his feet. He straightened his hat and started walking along the highway, calling out Forky’s name in the darkness.
Woody walked for only a few moments before he heard some strange noises. He turned to find Forky struggling in the dirt. Woody sighed. He grabbed Forky’s pipe-cleaner hand and pulled him up.
Woody continued to hold Forky’s hand as they walked.
“Carry me?” Forky asked.
“No,” Woody said firmly.
“Why do I have to be a toy?” Forky whined.
“Because you have Bonnie’s name written on the bottom of your sticks,” explained Woody.
“Why do I have Bonnie’s name written on the bottom of my sticks?” asked Forky.
“Because she…” Woody took a deep breath and tried to think of how to get Forky to understand. “Look, she plays with you all the time. Right?”
“Uh, yes.”
“And who does she sleep with every night?”
“The big white fluffy thing?” Forky asked.
“No, not her pillow—you.”
Forky sighed.
“All right, Forky,” said Woody. “You have to understand how lucky you are right now. You’re Bonnie’s toy. You are going to help her create happy memories that will last the rest of her life.”
Forky wasn’t paying attention to Woody. He was busy playing with his pipe-cleaner hand.
Woody turned away, frustrated. He rubbed his forehead and tried to remain calm. “Doing this for Bonnie,” he said to himself. He took a deep breath and turned to face Forky. “Okay, like it or not, you are a toy. Maybe you don’t like being one, but you are one nonetheless. Which means you are going to be there for Andy when he—”
“Who’s Andy?” interrupted Forky.
“I mean Bonnie!” shouted Woody. “You have to be there for Bonnie. That is your job.”
“What’s your job?” asked Forky.
“Well, right now it’s to make sure you do yours,” said Woody, still sounding very frustrated.
“Carry me?” Forky asked again weakly.
Woody refused, and the two walked in silence for a bit before Forky asked Woody about Andy. Woody sighed. “Andy was my other kid,” he answered sadly.
“You had another kid?” asked Forky.
“Yeah. For a long time,” said Woody. “It was pretty great.” They walked in silence for a few minutes. “I was a favorite toy, actually,” he said with a hint of pride. “Running the room was my job. Keeping all the toys in place.” Woody continued to talk about his life with Andy and the other toys. He enjoyed sharing his memories.
To Woody’s surprise, Forky was listening. And before long, Woody was carrying Forky in his arms.
“Then you watch ’em grow up, become a full person…and then they leave,” explained Woody. “They go off and do things you’ll never see. Don’t get me wrong—you still feel good about
it, but then somehow you find yourself after all those years, sitting in a closet, just feeling…” His voice trailed off as he tried to find a word to describe it.
“Useless?” Forky offered.
“Yeah,” said Woody. He frowned, thinking.
“Your purpose fulfilled,” added Forky.
“Exactly,” Woody said with a nod.
Forky looked up at the cowboy. “Woody, I know what your problem is.”
“You do?”
“You’re just like me. Trash!”
“What is it with you and trash?” Woody asked.
“It’s warm,” said Forky with a satisfied smile.
“Ew.”
“It’s cozy,” added Forky.
“I guess…”
“And safe. Like somebody’s whispering in your ear…everything’s going to be okay.”
“Forky!” exclaimed Woody. He knew how to get him to understand. “That’s it! That’s how Bonnie feels when she’s with YOU.”
“She does?” asked Forky.
“YES!” said Woody.
“Wait a sec—” Forky jumped out of Woody’s arms and faced him, his googly eyes suddenly focused. “You mean she thinks I’m warm?”
“Yep.”
“And cozy?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And sometimes kind of squishy?”
“Mmmm, that, too. Yes,” Woody agreed.
Forky’s entire body trembled as he continued. “Oh, Woody, I get it now. I am Bonnie’s trash.”
“Yes—wait, what?”
“I am Bonnie’s trash!” repeated Forky, running in circles.
“No, no, no, not exactly…,” said Woody.
“Oh, she must be feeling awful without me,” said Forky. “Woody, we’ve got to get going. She needs me!” He sprinted ahead, shouting, “Hey, Bonnie—I’m coming!”
Woody chased after him. “Whoa, whoa, Forky. Slow down! Forky!”
As Woody tried to catch up, Forky just giggled and picked up speed, running faster and faster toward the sparkling lights of the sleeping town up ahead.
Toy Story 4 Junior Novel Page 2
