Trapped! by Peg Kehret Read Free Book Online Page A

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

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    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