Segment 4

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Flickr photo by BinaryApe

Mr. Trot's barn sat on a hump of land in the far corner of the pasture. The pigs made their way toward it, keeping out of sight as best they could, crouching in the tall whispering grass. "Shhhh," it sighed. "Shhhh," and clutched at them with its feeble hands.

"I'm not so sure about this," Roscoe fretted. "Mr. Trots may be a grumbly old clomper, but he's wise, too. He says we won't ever get back if we set hoof outside that fence."

"Oh, come on!" Rosie objected. "Grown ups always exaggerate. That's like Mom saying, 'Eat your vegetables or your brain will shrivel up like an old raisin.' Or like Janice saying, 'Stop squabbling or I'll put you back in your pens.' They're just trying to scare us.

They broke out of hiding and hurried across the trodden earth near the barn, hoping to get out of sight before anyone spotted them. "We're okay," Rosie panted, peeking back into the pasture. "But Mr. Trots is over by the compound. We better get moving."

The opening in the fence wasn't hard to find. About half way down the back of the barn the wire had been pulled up and twisted, so it didn't touch the ground anymore. A piglet wouldn't even have to squirm to fit through the space. "Let's go!" Rosie said.

"Huh?" Roscoe balked.

"What's the matter," she complained, looking back, half through the opening.

"We were just going to peek, remember."

"Oh, come on! We didn't sneak all the way out here to look at the world outside. I want to be able to say I've set hoof in it. Just a quick romp, then we'll go back to the compound. Mom will never even know we've been gone."

"Rosie!" Roscoe grunted angrily.

"Er-Er-Er-Er-Rooo!"

Startled, the piglets whirled to face the sudden racket. Scratch the rooster glared at them from a few feet away, his beady left eye locked onto them like a laser. He bobbed his head, taking a couple of steps toward them. "Er-Er-Er-Er-Rooo!" he said again.

"Shut up!" Rosie hissed.

"Just doin' my job," he said. "Lettin' everyone know there's danger developing in the barnyard."

"There's no danger!"

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too. You've got two feet outside the barnyard fence, and two more attached to your rump, not far behind. Then there's the four feet of your friend Roscoe, here. That makes eight feet outside the barnyard fence. Plenty of danger in that. "Er-Er-Er-Er-Rooo!"

"Shut up! You'll get us into trouble."

"Better 'n letting you get yourselves into worse trouble out there. Where you going anyway?"

"We're going on a journey to explore the big wide world," Rosie informed him.

"What!" Roscoe squealed. "I thought we were just going to take a peek."

"Have you ever been out there?" Rosie asked Scratch, ignoring Roscoe's objection.

"Oh no! I could ne... ne... never go out there," Scratch said, alarmed at the suggestion.

"Why not."

He thought about if for a second. "Because I'm a chicken," he said at last. "And I know the world out there is full of weasels and raccoons and coyotes, and that I'd be somebody's dinner in no time... Er-Er-Er-Er-Rooo!"

At the sound of Scratch's crowing Rosie bolted, trotting as fast as her legs would carry her into the outside world. Roscoe hesitated a dreadful moment...

"Don't," Scratch advised. "Two lost pigs is twice as bad as one."

He teetered on the brink, not wanting to go, but already fearful for his sister.

"Don't"

But Roscoe couldn't let Rosie go it alone. He darted through the opening, too.

"Er-Er-Er-Er-Rooo!" Scratchs' warning followed them.

Next - Segment 5