Pigboy, page 5
Manure.
I jumped up from behind this big porker and winged a handful right at him. It was gross. I got him right in the face. It must have come as a shock. He dropped his gun.
I couldn’t let him find it. I just kept chucking stuff at him. He was cursing and swearing. He put his arms up trying to cover his face. I was creaming him. Terror really gives you a lot of energy.
It also apparently gets pigs all wound up. They were squealing and shrieking and crawling all over each other like they were at a rock concert.
I was screaming too. I hope I was screaming like a warrior charging into battle—but I know I wasn’t. I was just screaming like a terrified kid. I was screeching and throwing as fast and hard as I could. I must have looked nuts.
I don’t really know what happened next. I guess the guy just couldn’t stand it anymore. He suddenly, like, growled and then just lunged at me.
There was one thing he hadn’t counted on. To tell you the truth, I hadn’t counted on it either. I don’t know if it was because they liked me. Or if they were afraid of him. Or if they just noticed that the gate was open and decided to get out while the going was good.
Who knows?
But when the guy lunged at me—the hogs lunged right back at him. There was this giant squeal and they charged. One little piglet got him just below the knees. The guy’s feet went flying out from under him. He went, “AAAAAAAA!” His head hit the ground. There was this big splat of manure. And then nothing else.
The guy was out cold.
chapter sixteen
I grabbed the gun. I put it in Ms. Creaser’s purse. I left this big porker practically sitting on the guy. I ran over to the log house. I banged on the door. I screamed, “Don’t worry. It’s okay. I’ll be back.” I took the rope the guy used to tie me up.
I ran back to the pigpen. I rolled the guy over and tied his hands behind his back. I sat him up and tied him to the fence. I used about thirty knots. He wasn’t going anywhere. He moaned and opened his eyes. He started swearing at me like you wouldn’t believe.
I ran. I was still scared of him, even tied up. I couldn’t handle him screaming like that. I really didn’t want to hear what he was going to do with me as soon as he got free. I went to the bus. I got my duct tape. I went back and taped the guy’s mouth shut. After that, he didn’t freak me out so much. I knew that duct tape would come in handy, sooner or later.
I was in front of the barn, rooting around through Ms. Creaser’s purse looking for her cell phone when I heard this loud noise.
Sirens. Lots of sirens. The police were here.
I told them what had happened. They got the kids out. They arrested the guy.
We were halfway home before I realized I should probably put some pants on.
chapter seventeen
That 9-1-1 operator had figured everything out. She heard me say “van Wart,” found the address and sent the cops. There’d been a prison break that afternoon. The police were already looking for the guy.
Or should I say they were already looking for Archibald James Dobbin— armed robber, car thief and general all-round psycho. He’s also—thanks to our little field trip—a lifer. He’s never getting out of prison again.
His friend—Kyle Jason Fiske—is in trouble too. He was the guy who hid the gun and the cell phone on the farm. He got six years for “aiding and abetting” a criminal. The judge also gave him a few extra years for coming up with the whole “tragic accident” idea.
I managed to get my picture in the paper. The good part is that they made it sound like I was some big hero. The bad part is that they used this stupid headline— “Boy goes Hogg-wild!” They also had to mention, of course, that I was wearing underpants and a lady’s purse. I found it really embarrassing, but my mother loved it. She said I did the Hoggs proud.
She bought me new glasses and a week’s worth of boxer shorts. She threw my old briefs in the rag bag.
Mr. van Wart had to have his arm operated on, but it looks like it’s going to work okay. He was really thankful for what I did. He gave my mother a whole bunch of pork sausages. They came from one of the pigs that lunged at the guy. That didn’t seem fair to me, but they tasted okay.
Mr. Benvie goes out on the weekends with a bunch of volunteers and helps keep the farm going. He’s trying to arrange another field trip there for the spring. He thinks it would be good for us. Help give us “closure.” I told him I’m allergic to hay.
The bus driver retired. He and his wife moved to Florida.
Ms. Creaser had a concussion. She had to stay in hospital for a couple of days. We all went in to see her. She said she was going to quit teaching and go into something less dangerous— “like working for the bomb squad, for instance.” We all laughed.
Shane doesn’t bug me anymore. In fact he even thanked me for what I did. He usually calls me Dan now. He sometimes forgets and calls me Pigboy, but he says it in a nice way.
None of that means we’re friends of course.
Why would we be? We don’t have anything to build a friendship on. We lost the one and only thing we had in common.
Ever since that stupid field trip, neither of us hates Dan Hogg.
Vicki Grant is the popular author of many books for young people, including Dead End Job, The Puppet Wrangler, and Quid Pro Quo, winner of the 2006 Arthur Ellis award for best juvenile novel from Crime Writers of Canada, an Edgar Allen Poe Award nominee and New York Public Library Books for Teen Age list selection. Vicki lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Other titles in the Orca Currents series
Camp Wild
Pam Withers
Chat Room
Kristin Butcher
Daredevil Club
Pam Withers
Dog Walker
Karen Spafford-Fitz
Flower Power
Ann Walsh
Laggan Lard Butts
Eric Walters
Daredevil Club
Pam Withers
Queen of the Toilet Bowl
Frieda Wishinsky
See No Evil
Diane Young
Sewer Rats
Sigmund Brouwer
Spoiled Rotten
Dayle Campbell Gaetz
Sudden Impact
Lesley Choyce
Swiped
Michele Martin Bossley
Wired
Sigmund Brouwer
Visit www.orcabook.com for more information.
Other Orca Currents Novels
Laggan Lard Butts by Eric Walters
“That was the bravest thing I ever saw in my whole life,” Tanner said.
“Not that brave.”
“You’re like my hero,” Taylor agreed.
“Big deal. It doesn’t mean anything. Now we just get to spend more time trying to get people to vote for something that has no chance of winning.”
“No chance?” Tanner demanded.
“Yes, no chance.”
“I don’t believe my ears,” Taylor said. “Didn’t you listen to the announcements today? A quitter never wins and a Lard Butt never quits. Go, Lard Butts!”
Other Orca Currents Novels
Dog Walker by Karen Spafford-Fitz
“Just one question, Turk,” Mom says. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
Mom must have read another parenting article. I can almost see the headline: Getting Your Teen to Open Up to You.
“Well, er...I wanted to get my business running before I said anything. And,” I put on my most innocent face, “I had this crazy idea you might think my business was something shady, stupid, or immoral.”
I can’t tell for sure, but I think Mom and Dad almost look ashamed.
Yes!
Vicki Grant, Pigboy
