Star

by Jennifer Li Shotz

  Ms. Khan let out a long sigh before speaking. “I know you and Bryan were trying to help,” she said, setting the towel on the counter. “But what I meant was, what are you doing here?”

  Julian swallowed, realization dawning on him.

  Ms. Khan pointed at the door. “Now go visit Star. I’ve got things under control here, but she needs you. You’re the only one who really knows how to communicate with her.”

  Julian didn’t need to be told twice.

  * * *

  The receptionist at the animal hospital greeted Julian when he burst into the lobby. He was breathing hard from biking as fast as he could from the shelter.

  “Ms. Khan called and said you were on your way,” she said. She pushed back her chair and waved Julian to follow her down the hall. “I have to warn you, Star’s pretty sleepy from her medication.”

  “Is she doing okay?” Julian asked.

  “She’s a little afraid, but she’s very sweet,” the receptionist said. “She’ll be more than ready to get out of here in a few days.”

  Julian opened his mouth to ask if anyone was using hand signals with her or petting the spot she liked behind her left ear, but as they passed through a swinging door, he sucked in his breath. There was Star, looking so small and frail in her metal cage. She lay on her side, a giant plastic cone shielding her head so she couldn’t chew on the huge bandage wrapped around her middle. When she saw Julian, she lifted her head and whined, her tail swishing against the wall of the cage.

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” the receptionist said. “Try not to get her too excited. I’ll be up front if you need anything.”

  Julian sat on the floor and opened the cage. Fighting tears, he reached inside the plastic cone to scratch Star behind the ear. He could barely bring himself to look at her bandage. He didn’t want to imagine what was beneath it or how much it must have hurt. There was a sharp antiseptic smell in the room. Everything around them was stainless steel, white floors, tubes, and bandages. They were a million miles from the excitement and fresh air of Silver Lake.

  Star turned her head to lick his wrist. He wished he had a hand signal that could explain everything to her. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was and that everything was going to be different from now on.

  “You’ll be better soon,” he promised. “And then you get to come home.”

  Star nuzzled against Julian’s hand. He lightly stroked the soft fur on top of her head. He told her all about his house and her new family. He said he couldn’t wait for her to meet Grandpa and that he’d probably be able to teach her all kinds of cool stuff. He apologized over and over again. Star’s eyes slowly closed.

  Julian would’ve liked to set up camp next to the cage and stay with her until it was time to bring her home. He wished he’d brought a sleeping bag. He could order pizza for dinner and feed her the crusts and slices of pepperoni. The receptionist was so nice. He thought she might let him stay, but he had to leave in an hour. He needed to finish his homework and get to bed early so he’d wake up the first time his alarm clock went off. He had to be on time for school and make sure his laundry was in the basket before he left the house.

  He had to be perfect, to make sure his parents didn’t change their minds about Star. But it wasn’t easy. Julian was working harder than he ever had before. He wrote down all his assignments in a notebook each day and checked them off as he completed them, making sure he didn’t miss a single one. He downloaded the audiobook for English class and followed along in his paperback copy, just like he’d done with Bryan. Sometimes he listened to a chapter twice to make sure he got it. He typed up his homework, which made it easier to keep the letters straight. He cleaned his room, even organizing his maps into labeled shoeboxes on his bookshelves. He didn’t plan on taking them out again for a long time. It stung too much to think about his failed adventure and the disappointment of the empty box. He was done with treasure hunting.

  Every night, Julian helped his parents set the table and clean up after dinner. Henry was the opposite of helpful. He seemed to make a bigger mess at dinner now that Julian was clearing the dishes. And when their mom and dad asked Julian if he’d finished his homework, Henry chimed in. “Are you sure you didn’t miss anything, Jules?”

  But Julian tuned his brother out and didn’t let it bother him. He was determined not to miss a thing. No more skipped homework assignments, no matter how much they challenged him. Whenever he started to get frustrated, he reached for Star’s tag in his pocket to remind him what he was working for.

  In the end, Dr. Everett decided to keep Star at the animal hospital for five days. They were the longest—and most exhausting—days of Julian’s life. He felt like he had to stay on top of every detail, every minute of every day, or else he’d forget something important. At lunchtime and during their free period, Julian and Bryan spread out their books, trying to get a head start on their homework for the next day. But all they could talk about was the shelter.

  Julian hadn’t been back to the shelter that week, as he was spending every spare minute with Star. He missed the other animals and the comforting beef jerky treats he gave them and the bright colors of the hallways. Even though Star was safe, he worried about what was going to happen to all the other dogs and cats.

  “Ms. Khan said she only has a few more weeks to find the money.” Bryan picked the chocolate chips out of his cookie, eating them one at a time. “Pretty soon she’s going to have to start calling other shelters to place all the animals.”

  Julian poked at his cold, leftover pasta with his fork. “Gee—do you know anywhere she might find some money?” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice. They both knew there wasn’t a buried treasure lying around just waiting to be found.

  “I meant she has to raise it,” Bryan said. “She has to find people to donate it.”

  Julian watched his friend take a bite of his now-chipless cookie, and an idea flashed in his mind. “What if we organize a bake sale to help her raise money? I bet lots of people would make stuff to help the animals.”

  Bryan brightened. “I’m sure my dad would let us set up during lunch. And maybe after school, when parents come to pick up their kids.”

  “It probably won’t raise enough.” Doubt crept over Julian. The last time he’d had a big idea, it had ended in disaster.

  Bryan seemed to read his mind. “It’s a good idea, Jules. Maybe it won’t be enough, but we won’t know unless we try.” He tossed a cookie crumb at Julian. “And no one will get hurt with a bake sale.”

  Julian thought his friend might not say that if he knew how bad Julian was at following a recipe. But his parents had offered to help him try to save the shelter, and this just might work.

  As soon as Julian was done with his homework that night, he brought a stack of his dad’s cookbooks to the kitchen table. In his social studies notebook, he started a list of recipes he wanted to make. At the bottom of the page he drew a map of how he and Bryan could arrange the different kinds of treats on the bake sale table. He thought people would buy more if the baked goods were named after animals in the shelter. He came up with Pip Peanut Butter Squares, Buster Brownies, and, of course, Star Snickerdoodles.

  Henry came into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He brought the glass to the table and pulled out the chair next to Julian. As his brother read over his shoulder, Julian braced himself for teasing. He thought his brother would make fun of his handwriting or the names he’d come up with.

  “What are you up to?” Henry asked.

  Julian lifted his chin. “Bryan and I are organizing a bake sale to help rescue the shelter.”

  Henry took a slow sip of water. Julian waited for him to say it was a dumb idea or to remind him that the last time he’d tried to bake cookies, he’d forgotten to add the sugar and basically made . . . chocolate chip crackers. They’d tossed the whole batch.

  “What happens to the animals if the shelter closes?” Henry said.

  Julian doodled pawpr
ints beside his list of recipes. “They don’t have anywhere else to go. If another shelter won’t take them, they might get put down.” He shook his head and tried to shove the thought from his mind.

  Henry picked up one of the cookbooks. After a moment he said, “I want to help.”

  Julian’s head snapped up, and he stared at his older brother. “You do?”

  “Sure.” Henry nodded. “I’ll help you bake when mom and dad aren’t home. And I bet I can sell a ton of cookies at my school.”

  “But why?” Julian asked.

  Henry flipped through the pages and shrugged. “What you’re doing is cool.”

  Julian was dumbfounded. His brother had never called him cool before.

  “Okay, so—here’s what I’ve got so far.” Julian showed his brother the list.

  As Henry scanned the page, Julian suddenly felt self-conscious. He bit his lip, but Henry set down the list and said, “Looks delicious. I approve.”

  “Really? Uh—” Julian cleared his throat. “I mean, cool.”

  “And I can’t wait to meet Star,” Henry added.

  Julian couldn’t help but grin just thinking about the dog—his dog. It hadn’t occurred to him, but that also meant she’d be Henry’s dog. Star would be spending a lot of time with his whole family, in fact, so they’d have to get to know her too. “You’ll like her,” Julian said. “She’ll have to get used to you, but she’s super smart. She already knows so many hand signals.”

  “Really?” Henry sounded impressed.

  Julian sat up straighter, filled with pride. “I taught her the signals Grandpa used with Liberty. She really pays attention when you know the right way to sign.”

  “Will you teach me?” Henry asked.

  Julian’s mouth quirked up in a shy smile. “Will you stop treating me like your stupid baby brother?”

  “I’ll try.” Henry smirked and gave Julian’s shoulder a playful shove. Then he got down to business and started paging through the cookbooks. “Are there any turtles at the shelter? We should make mom’s turtle cookies.”

  ★ Chapter 23 ★

  * * *

  * * *

  It was a good thing Star came home on a Saturday, because there was no way Julian would have been able to concentrate in school that day. His parents drove him to the animal hospital. While they talked with Dr. Everett, the receptionist went to get Star. The dog was still moving slowly and limping a little bit, but it was the first time in almost a week that Julian had seen her without the big cone on her head. He knelt on the floor and gently wrapped his arms around her neck. She pressed her forehead against his chest, her tail wagging. Her bandage had been removed to reveal a patch of shaved fur with a line of neat stitches down the middle, as if the map of her markings had been redrawn to show how brave she’d been. She had saved Julian and Bryan.

  The receptionist handed him Star’s leash and the plastic cone. “She’ll have her stitches for at least another week, so she still needs to wear the cone when you’re not supervising her. But you can give her a break from it when you’re together.”

  Star rode in the back seat with Julian. It was like they were going in reverse from the night Principal Walter had driven them to the animal hospital, with Star weak and bleeding and her head on Julian’s leg. This time, though, she sat on his lap, staring out the window, her bright blue eyes watching the world go by. This was the moment Julian had dreamed about. He was finally taking Star home!

  When they got there, Henry was waiting by the front door. He’d arranged Star’s new bed and her basket of toys in the living room. “Wow,” Henry said, taking a long look at the dog. “She’s beautiful, Jules.”

  Julian was grateful that his brother didn’t say a word about the stitches and the shaved patch of fur. Henry got down on the floor the way Julian had shown him and gave Star the special wave that signaled her name. Star cocked her head at the familiar sign coming from a stranger. She glanced up at Julian, a questioning look in her eyes, and when he gave her the thumbs-up, she crept close enough to Henry to sniff his hand.

  Star’s tail swished in a tentative wag, as if she recognized Henry as part of the family. Julian hoped so. He had a feeling that she would bring them all closer together. In so many ways, she already had.

  Ms. Khan had warned Julian that Star might need some time to adjust to another new place. He would do whatever it took to help her understand that this was her home now, that she’d always be safe and loved. He knew they still had a lot of work ahead as she healed and got used to her new life, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

  For the next few days Julian planted himself next to her dog bed, where he could be close to her while doing his homework and planning the bake sale. And he took her outside every day for short, slow walks. As long as she still had her stitches, they could go only as far as the end of the block. When they reached the corner, she’d lift her snout in the air, her super senses picking up scents and sights all around them. Julian couldn’t wait to take her on longer walks to explore the neighborhood.

  The day after Star’s stitches came out, Julian decided it was time to go a bit farther with her. They wandered the neighborhood, enjoying the fresh air together. Julian was so absorbed in watching Star sniff under hedges and circle around tree trunks, her tail high and alert, that he didn’t pay attention to where they were going. They walked a few blocks and turned right, and suddenly they were in front of the Winderhouser house.

  Julian had avoided the house since the day he and Bryan planned their treasure hunt on the back porch, but it was just as he’d remembered it. Star remembered the house, too. She gave a high-pitched yip and tugged Julian across the overgrown yard, her ears pinned back against her head. She wove her way around chipped garden gnomes, broken lawn chairs, and plastic milk crates that had tall weeds growing between the slats. She led Julian around to the back porch and scratched at the back door, nudging it open with her snout.

  Julian hesitated. As much time as he’d spent exploring the Winderhouser place, he’d never dared go inside. But he had only a second to decide what to do, as the door began to swing closed between him and Star, her leash pulling taut. She whined from inside, and Julian’s mind was instantly made up. He pushed through the door and into the house.

  The floor creaked beneath his feet. The house had been abandoned for months, but it was far from empty. Julian looked around as his eyes adjusted to the dim autumn sunlight filtering through the smudged, dusty windows. He could tell from the three ancient refrigerators lined up like sentries along the wall that he was in the kitchen. There were probably other appliances and a sink somewhere in the room, but the counter was piled high with baskets and plastic containers. A bin in the corner had ribbons and rolls of wrapping paper bursting from it like a giant party popper. Towers of newspapers and magazines stretched from the floor almost to the ceiling alongside piles of detached table legs and seat cushions, primary-colored plastic toys, spatulas, a hand mixer, a hair dryer, and other stuff Julian couldn’t identify.

  His fingers itched with the need to draw what he was seeing. He wished he’d brought along his sketchbook to map out every detail. But Star wouldn’t let him linger. She pulled him along a path, threading between piles of boxes and books into the next room. He carefully picked his way around overstuffed garbage bags and teetering stacks of papers, trying not to cause an avalanche. He was so nervous, it was hard to breathe. He didn’t want to think about what his parents would do if he got caught trespassing. But he was so fascinated by everything in the house that his mind was spinning. Where had all this stuff come from, and what was it like to live here?

  He watched Star step confidently through the house, leading the way. He tried to picture her growing up there and never going outside. She seemed solemn as she sniffed at different objects in the thick quiet of her old home. Julian wished he knew what she was thinking—was she sad? Did she miss Mrs. Winderhouser?

  Star’s ears perked up and her tail started wagging as she
zipped around a stack of newspapers in what Julian thought must be the living room. He followed her into a nook, where a shabby green reclining chair slumped next to a faded blue dog bed that was scattered with toys. Star sniffed the arm of the chair and gave a small whine. Then she pounced on the dog bed. She nosed through the toys, sending a tennis ball rolling under the chair. She snuffled around the bones and toys, her tail wagging furiously. Julian smiled. Star had found her treasure.

  She pawed a big stuffed bear out of the way and snapped up a frayed rope toy that had a plush football in the middle. With her favorite toy in her mouth, she trotted out of the nook and back through the house. She led Julian out the back door, down the steps, and all the way around the house to the front porch, where she plopped down next to a rocking chair and chewed happily on the football.

  Julian sat down and rocked in the creaking chair. He gazed out at the street. There were no bears or trains or rivers, but there was still plenty for him and Star to explore. He was content just being with his dog on their daily adventure. He looked down at Star. She was holding the toy between her paws and chewing on the rope, her eyes half closed.

  That’s when Julian noticed something scratched into the floorboard of the porch, right by Star’s paws. He rocked the chair forward and leaned down to get a better look. Star’s name was etched into the wood.

  He got onto his hands and knees beside the dog. She stopped gnawing her toy and sat up, tilting her head and furrowing her brow at him, seeming to say that he’d better have a good reason for interrupting her. Julian brushed his hand over her name—and felt the board shift under his palm. He reached his fingers into a gap between the floorboards and pulled. The wooden board lifted away, revealing a space below the porch with a metal box in it.