Free Wild Thing by Dandi Daley Mackall

auction barn early so I could look over the horses and pick a few possible “investments.”
    “I’ve only got $750 in savings, Winnie,” Dad said, forking the last bite of brownie cake Lizzy had made to seal the deal. “We’ll go as high as that, and no higher.”
    As soon as I could, I ran to my room and got the horse blanket. I couldn’t wait another minute to give Wild Thing the good news.
    Hang on, girl. One more week at Stable-Mart, and I’ll get you out of there for good!
    I’d forgotten about the change in weather. Wind brought the soft rain in at a slant as I walked to Stable-Mart. I didn’t care. I still couldn’t believe it. I’d led Dad to water.
    But deep inside I knew there was more to it. Okay, God. Sorry about thinking you might not be listening.
    A bright light shone from the stable as I walked around to the south pasture. The rain picked up, clattering against the metal roof and rustling the leaves.
    “Wild Thing!” I called at the fence.
    Rain poured down, making it impossible to see deep into the pasture. I climbed through the fence and headed out. “Here, girl!” I called.
    I inhaled. I couldn’t smell her.
    Don’t be silly. You can’t smell anything in this downpour.
    I listened for any sign of her—a nicker, a whinny, a snort. Anything. “Wild Thing! Where are you, girl?”
    Nothing but the splash of rain answered me.
    “Wild Thing?” I shouted, panic rising in me like smoke, choking me.
    I ran to the end of the pasture, my tennis shoes slipping in the mud. “Wild Thing!” I screamed.
    She wasn’t there.
    I circled in the tall, drenched grass, calling out to her.
    Thunder rumbled, then boomed. Lightning struck the sky in a jagged streak that lit up the whole pasture. And I could see. Wild Thing was gone.

I don’t know how long I sat in the pasture while rain soaked into my bones. I was too late. Wild Thing was gone.
    Before I left, I checked the stable, the paddock, the other pastures. But I knew I wouldn’t find the Arabian. They’d gotten rid of her. And I’d probably never know where.

    Saturday morning Lizzy woke me at dawn. “Winnie!” she shouted. “We have to be at the auction in thirty minutes!”
    I rolled over and faced the wall. “I’m not going.”
    Lizzy spent 10 minutes dragging the details out of me, and the next 10 convincing me I still had to go to the auction.
    As soon as we got to the auction barn, I left Lizzy and Dad registering, while I slipped back to the holding stalls. As I examined horse after horse, I grew sadder and sadder. A sorrel American Saddle Horse could have won a beauty contest, but her cracked and bumped hooves indicated a history of poor care and lameness.
    Three horses had weird teeth, altered to make them appear younger. A groove called Galvayne’s groove shows up at the top of a horse’s tooth at age 10 and grows longer the older the horse gets. Mom had a million stories about crooked horse dealers who’d filed off or filled the groove, stained or reshaped teeth to pass off an old horse as a young one. All three of these horses had filed teeth, but I could still feel their Galvayne’s grooves.
    Two others had been drugged into being quiet. I could tell by their glassy eyes.
    “Is that the one to bid on?” Eddy Barker peered into the stall where I’d been checking out a black Morgan. I wondered if Barker ever frowned. So far his smile had just changed sizes. Lizzy said the Barkers were the happiest family she’d ever seen. Catman was with Barker.
    I must have looked surprised to see them. “Pat brought us,” Catman explained. “Something wrong?”
    “We thought you’d be psyched,” Barker said. “But you look like you lost your best friend.”
    I had lost my best friend. But I didn’t feel like talking about it.
    “This is kind of a sad place,” I admitted. “Look at this Morgan.” I lifted his foreleg, where I’d spotted dozens of tiny scars.
    “Pretty banged-up knees,” Catman said.
    “He’s a