Trapped! (6 page)

Piccolo sat down. Alex kept rubbing. The pig lowered her front legs, then suddenly collapsed, falling over on her side with an
OOOMPH
! sound.

Pete watched in astonishment as the pig rolled on her back with her feet in the air
.

“She wants a belly rub!” Alex said, clearly delighted, and he began rubbing the pig’s stomach with the flat of his hand. Mary and Rocky joined in.

“Piccolo’s in hog heaven,” Mary said, and all the kids laughed.

Pete glared at them from under the bush. It wasn’t funny. Alex was giving that pig a kitty massage! How could he be so disloyal? Kitty massages were Pete’s treat, something Alex had always done only for him. Even Lizzy didn’t get kitty massages. Now Alex, Rocky, and Mary all bent over the pig, rubbing and scratching on her fat pink stomach as if the pig were queen of the universe and they were her privileged servants
.

Pete’s tail whipped furiously back and forth, sending a swirl of dust into the air
.

Suddenly the pig raised her head, struggled to a sitting position, and then stood up, her big ears pricked forward. She gave a sharp, abrupt grunt that sounded almost like a sneeze.

A second later, Pete heard that engine sound again—the rattling noise that had upset Alex when he heard it the day before.

The pig grunted again, then began clicking her teeth. Pete looked at the pig with new respect. Cats have astute hearing, but the pig had heard that engine even before Pete had. The sharp grunt and the clicking teeth must be her alarm call, warning the people that the truck was coming.

The people paid no attention. Obviously they did not understand Pig any better than they understood Cat.

The engine noise grew louder. Alex turned toward it and saw his little brother, tears streaming down his cheeks, running down the driveway toward the Kendrills’ house. The truck that the pig had jumped from rolled along right behind Benjie.

“Oh, oh,” Alex said. “This looks like trouble.”

The three kids quickly left the pigpen. Mary closed the padlock, clicking it shut. As they headed into Alex’s yard, toward Benjie, the truck stopped and the driver got out, leaving the door open. He wore stained jeans and muddy
boots. His greasy hair grazed the collar of his dirty blue shirt.

Hogman. Alex thought the name Jacob had given the truck’s driver made him sound greedy and in need of a bath. It seemed to fit.

“He saw me on the corner when I was playing spy,” Benjie cried. “He asked me where I live, but I didn’t tell him. I ran for home, but he followed me.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid,” the man said. “I only wanted to ask if you knew where my pig was, but that question’s been answered.” He pointed at Mary’s backyard, in the direction of the pen. His hand looked as if it had not touched soap and water for weeks. “There she is, right there.”

“Go get Dad,” Alex told Benjie.

Benjie hurried toward the kitchen door.

Y
ou must be
the kids who found my pig on the road,” the man said.

Alex, Rocky, and Mary looked at him, but nobody spoke.

“What’s the matter?” the man said. “The cat got your tongues?”

Pete, who was listening from under his bush, growled softly. What a horrid thing to say! As if a cat would take the tongue out of a child, or anyone else. Where do the humans come up with such nonsense? To say, “The cat got your tongue,” was even worse than calling a thief a “cat burglar.”

“That pig belongs to me,” the man continued. “I’ll drive my truck over to the pen, then you all can help me get her loaded.”

“You’ll have to talk to my gramma first,” Mary said.

“Don’t need to talk to anybody. Only need to load up my pig.”

“Gramma has the key to the pigpen,” Mary said. “The gate’s locked.”

“That your gramma’s house?” The dirty hand pointed again.

Mary nodded.

“Go get her while I move my truck,” the man said. He got in the vehicle, turned it around, and drove off. Seconds later, he had driven down Mary’s driveway and was backing up to the pigpen. Again, he left the truck door open when he got out.

Alex and Rocky had cut across the yard and were already standing in front of the pen. Mary had gone inside.

“I ain’t got all day,” the man said. “You sure you kids don’t have a key to that gate?”

“I don’t have one,” Alex said.

“Neither do I,” said Rocky.

They knew Mary had the key, but they weren’t going to mention that.

Mrs. Sunburg and Mary came out of the house together. “What’s going on here?” Mrs. Sunburg asked.

“That’s my pig,” the man said. “I came to get her. I have a rope and a ramp. I’ll put her on my truck as soon as y’all open the pen.”

“Can you prove this pig belongs to you?” Alex asked.

“Prove? I don’t need to prove anything. It’s my pig! I
was driving down the road when she fell off my truck, and when I went back to get her, she was gone. Stole! My brother saw on the TV news that some kids found her and took her to Valley View Estates. This is Valley View Estates, ain’t it?”

“It is,” Mrs. Sunburg said.

“Well, then, that proves the pig’s mine. Now if you’ll kindly open that lock, I’ll take my property and leave.”

“The fact that this is Valley View Estates doesn’t prove who owns the pig,” Mary said.

The man glared at her.

“I’ve called the animal rescue group that delivered Piccolo here,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “They have custody of this pig, and they entrusted her to me. I can’t let her go.”

“Then I’ll have to take her without your permission because she belongs to me.”

Mrs. Sunburg folded her arms across her chest. “If you touch that pig, I’ll call the police.”

“Police!” He spit out the word as if it tasted bitter. “Why would you call the cops?”

“Because you broke the law by not keeping the pig safe in your truck,” Alex said.

“You also left the scene of an accident,” Rocky said.

“I wasn’t in any accident. It’s not my fault if the stupid pig jumped off the truck.”

“The police gave custody of this pig to the Foothills
Animal Rescue,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “You’ll need to discuss the matter with them or with the police.”

“I ain’t talking to no cops,” the man said.

While the people argued, Pete crept out from under his bush and slowly approached the open door of the truck. The distinct odor of a fried-egg-and-cheese sandwich wafted out of the cab, making Pete curious to see what Hogman might have on the seat. Had he just come from Mad Dogs Café or McDonald’s? Was there a bite or two of sandwich left in the wrapper, lying on the seat?

Pete stood on his hind legs and stretched up to look inside the truck. He froze, forgetting all about a possible sandwich. What he saw in the truck was a far worse horror than anything he had ever seen or could have imagined. The fur rose along the ridge of Pete’s spine, and his tail bushed out to twice its normal size
.

“Hey! Get away from my truck, cat!”

Pete jumped at the sudden shout, then raced away from the truck as fast as he could run. Behind him, he heard the slam of the truck’s door. Pete climbed the nearest tree, clung to a low branch, then peered down through the leaves. Although he knew he was safe, the memory of what he’d seen made his heart pound and kept every nerve on edge.

The man sat in the truck now, talking through the open window. “I’ll be back,” he said, “and I’ll have someone with me, to help load MY pig. The gate on that pen had better
be unlocked when I get here because I’ll have my wire cutters in my pocket, and I’ll use them if I need to.”

He started the engine, turned around on Mrs. Sunburg’s grass, and drove off.

Mr. Kendrill, his hair still damp, rushed across the yard beside Benjie. He buttoned his shirt as he approached. “I was in the shower,” he said. “I came as fast as I could. What happened?”

As the others explained, Benjie started to cry again. “That meanie man’s going to take Piccolo,” he sobbed.

Alex wanted to console his brother, but he was afraid Benjie might be right.

Pete dug his toenails into the tree branch, shaken by what he had seen. A large box on the floor of the truck overflowed with animal skins! Pete had seen dead animals before, usually along the side of a busy road, but he had never seen pelts, and he shuddered as he thought how the pelts must have been obtained.

“Maybe Eric and Jacob can come,” Mary suggested. “If they get here before the man returns, they’d know how to handle this.”

“They can’t come,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “When I called to tell them he was here, they were on their way to investigate a cruelty case and said they’d probably be there all morning. That’s why I threatened to call the police. I don’t really want to do that, though. The police are too
busy to deal with a situation like this where nobody’s in danger.”

“Piccolo’s in danger!” Benjie said. “If that meanie Hogman takes her away, she’ll be made into pork chops. The man on TV said so.”

“Maybe that’s who we should call,” Alex said. “The TV station that ran the story on Piccolo might be interested in doing a follow-up.”

“That’s a great idea,” Mr. Kendrill said. “There’s always a need for human-interest stories about animals.”

“The man might not be in such a hurry to use his wire cutters on our pen if there’s a news camera here, recording everything,” Mrs. Sunburg said.

“Let’s go call right now,” Mary said.

While the people went inside Mary’s house, Pete stretched his front paws down the tree trunk and used his back feet to keep himself from sliding down too fast. When he was five feet from the ground, he shoved off with his hind feet and leaped to the ground. Then he ran for home and waited on the back steps of his house for Alex to return
.

When Alex, Benjie, and Mr. Kendrill approached, Pete said, “I looked in Hogman’s truck and it’s full of animal pelts. I think he’s the one who’s setting traps! Either that, or he’s hunting out of season. You need to call the Department of Fish and Wildlife and have them send someone here. When Hogman returns, I can show them the evidence.”

“Stop complaining, Pete,” Alex said. “If you wouldn’t sneak out, you wouldn’t have to wait to be let back in.”

“I’m not asking to be let in,” Pete said. “I’m telling you I found proof of a catastrophic crime!”

“Make sure he has cat food,” Mr. Kendrill said as he held the door for Pete.

“Forget the cat food,” Pete said. “If we’re going to eat, let’s have fried-egg-and-cheese sandwiches. I had my heart set on one of those; that’s what I smelled when I looked in Hogman’s truck.”

Alex poured dry cat food into Pete’s bowl while Pete rubbed against his ankles. “There you go, Pete,” he said as he set the bowl on the floor.

“That is not a fried-egg-and-cheese sandwich,” Pete said. “It isn’t even kitty num-num.” Kitty num-num came in small cans, labeled “Ocean Whitefish and Tuna.” He usually got kitty num-num only at night because Alex used it as a bribe to make sure Pete came home before dark, but once in a while he got it as a reward.

He had hoped such important news as the box of pelts would merit a reward, but, as usual, the humans were not clever enough to figure out what Pete was telling them. The schools really should offer Cat as a second language.

He sighed, settled himself in front of his bowl, and began to eat. While he would have preferred a fried-egg-and-cheese sandwich or some kitty num-num, Pete appreciated the satisfying
“crunch” sound that dry cat food made when he bit it. Pete chewed, pretending the cat food was mouse bones.

“What will we do if the man returns before the TV reporter gets here?” Benjie asked.

“We’ll stall him,” Alex said.

“I’m going to sit by Piccolo’s pen and guard her,” Benjie said.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Alex said, “as soon as I get something to eat.”

Benjie left, letting the door bang behind him.

“I still can’t believe your good luck in getting to talk to that reporter,” Mr. Kendrill told Alex. “I thought you’d get voice mail and have to leave a message.”

“I did get voice mail,” Alex said, “but the message gave a number to use if the call was about a breaking news story. When I called that number, the reporter answered. Her name is Jenna.”

Pete stopped eating so he could hear the conversation. He had planned to take a nap now, but he would need to stay alert so that he could sneak out the door in time to see the reporter. If Hogman returned, Pete would go in the truck again and then holler at the people. He would caterwaul so they’d come and find the box of animal pelts, and they’d arrest Hogman for illegally trapping animals. Pete would be a hero! He’d be the lead story on the five o’clock news! That would show the people which animal is most intelligent.

Of course, he’d have to be careful not to let Hogman see him go in the truck. Anyone who killed animals and skinned them should be avoided, especially by a curious cat.

The dark brown pelts in Hogman’s box were beautiful, but not as lovely as Pete’s soft white-and-brown fur. He didn’t think the humans ever wore coats made of cat fur, but he wasn’t positive about that. If they wore mink and beaver and rabbit fur, why not cat?

I
want to
wait in the pen with Piccolo,” Benjie said. “I’m going to comb her.” He took his own comb out of his back pocket and showed it to Alex.

“You should wait a while before you go in the pen,” Alex said. “The gate needs to stay locked in case Hogman returns.”

“Then I’ll go to the corner and wait in my spy station,” Benjie said. “When the TV people come, I can show them where Piccolo is.”

Alex watched his brother run down the driveway. He knew Benjie was too antsy to stay in one place very long, and Alex didn’t blame him. He felt uneasy himself, and he could tell that Rocky and Mary were anxious, too.

Relax, Alex told himself. Dad’s home, and Mrs. Sunburg is home, and the reporter is on her way. If the man got obnoxious, the adults would handle him, or they’d call the police.