Star in the Forest Read Online Free PDF Page A

the broken-plate memory I had of mushrooms roasted over a fire back in Mexico. I forced myself to eat the whole thing.
    “There’s more!” she screamed. “Look some more.”
    I looked around, under the bits of worn scrap metal, inside old hubcaps, and sure enough, there they were, hidden in nooks and crannies. Mushrooms in plastic bags, dyed ocean blue and green and sunset orange.
    “I put them in plastic bags to be sanitary!”
    I offered her one and she took it, grimacing as she ate it. “Needs salt,” she said.
    I found all nine mushrooms and put them inmy basket, except one, which I gave to Star. He nibbled at it to be polite.
    “I’ll eat the rest at home,” I said. “With salt.”
    “And maybe mustard,” she said.
    We started walking home down the path.
    “And chocolate,” I said.
    “Oooh! I know! You should microwave a Snickers on them.”
    The whole way back we planned dyed-mushroom recipes.
    “Thanks, Crystal,” I said before she went into her trailer.
    She smiled. “That’s what best friends are for.” And she went inside.
    First I thought,
You’re not my best friend
. Then I thought about how she took all that time to dye the mushrooms and hide them and how she did it for me, just to make me happy.
    As I turned to go to my trailer, I heard her mom yelling. I could make out the words perfectly. “You left a frickin’ mess in here! Food dye everywhere!” Something bashed. “I should’ve leftyou there with your dad, left you both to rot in jail.”
    Jail. Crystal’s dad was in jail.
    Just like my dad, only hers was still there. Her mom must have taken her to visit him because the boyfriend left. And here I was all wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself about Papá. Maybe things weren’t so bad for me after all. Papá was probably whistling under a blue sky in a green cornfield, working hard to pay his way back to us. And he
would
come back. And Mamá would
never
go out and get herself an evil dictator boyfriend. Papá
was
coming back, and we would all be happy again.
    Crystal was the one who really needed a magic stick. Something to make her feel safe. Strong. Loved.
    Maybe her lies were her magic stick.
    Maybe Star was.
    Maybe I was.

“We got to do it,” Crystal said. “We got to unhook Star’s chain.”
    It was Saturday and we’d brought a bucket of water, a cup, a raggedy towel, a bottle of orange shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one, scissors, and an old hairbrush that Dalia had left behind.
    Crystal was right. We couldn’t do a good jobwashing Star if he was tied up. “He won’t run away?” I said.
    “No way. We’re, like, his masters now. He’s our best friend forever till death do us part. Like you and me.”
    I was glad I’d brought bacon. That was Star’s favorite. I fried it especially for him. Even if he tried to run away, I was sure I could lure him back with bacon.
    I held my breath and pushed on the chain’s hook with my finger. The hook was rusty and kind of stuck, but I pushed as hard as I could until it moved. Then I pulled the chain from it and held my breath.
    Star was free. He sat there, wagging his tail, smiling at me.
    “See, Zit?” Crystal said. “Told you.”
    I scratched his ears and said, “Good Star. Good, good Star,” while Crystal poured water over his fur. He squirmed a little, but he stayed. He looked smaller all wet, and you could still seesome long bumps that were his ribs. We lathered him up until he smelled like a big, fresh piece of orange Starburst. Then we rinsed him and dried him with the towel. With scissors, Crystal cut out the tangled, matted pieces of fur. Luckily he had enough fur that the rest filled in the gaps.
    “I’m just going to layer his hair a little,” Crystal said. She walked around him, fluffing his fur here and there, studying it like a hairdresser about to try a new style.
    “He already looks good like this,” I said.
    “Listen, Zit. A few years back, my mom was, like, the owner of this chain of super-fancy