9.

Four days later Alex had taken the bus to pick up his first unemployment check, and he came back with a baby hog on a leash.

“What the fuck is that?” said Marty.

“A pig,” said Alex.

“What in hell did you get a pig for?”

“Look,” said Alex. “How much does a pound of bacon cost?”

“A pound of . . . that pig has got to weigh just twenty pounds. Don’t tell me we’re going to eat the poor fucker.”

Alex took the rolled Sunday newspaper from under his arm and began laying sheets down on a corner of floor.

“No--no, don’t think of it as a pet. Don’t get attached. Beat it if you have to, to keep from loving it,” said Alex.

“I have no idea what in hell you’re doing,” said Marty, with a moan at the end.

Alex went on laying down sheets of newspaper. He’d let the piglet’s leash go and it darted around happily, sniffing everywhere it went.

“Look--pigs eat trash. We feed it our trash--fuck they’ll eat candy wrappers even--we grow it fat, and pretty soon we’ve got three, four months of meat, fresh meat.”

“I don’t know what is going on here. First you invite that hooker to stay--what’s her name?--what is her fucking name?--and then you bring home a pig and say we’re gonna eat it. Shit, just looking at the guy now I’m positive I could never kill the thing.”

“I’ll kill it then,” said Alex. Instinctively, as if reminded by his own words that the pig was there, he moved up to it, and they touched noses together. Alex rubbed his face in the piglet’s snout and made baby noises.

“I can see right now what’s going to happen. I can see it already,” said Marty.

“Aren’t you a good piggy wiggy,” Alex was saying, as he and the piglet rubbed noses.

“I can see where this is going. Wait a minute. Wait a fucking minute. Did you pay money for that thing?”

Alex stood. “It was a bargain. Meat this fresh, and as much as that pig will grow--it was a bargain.”

“Please tell me we’ve got enough for the electric,” said Marty.

“A hundred bucks,” said Alex. “I met a guy at the unemployment office whose sow just had her babies. On the eastern plains he could have got two hundred a piece but he had no ride or nothing so--”

“Please--please--” said Marty--“just tell me we’ve got enough to cover another month of rent and the electric.”

“We’ve got plenty, man--we’ve got five fifty left and another check is coming the first.”

Marty moaned again.

“The first is thirty days from now. The rent--we’re four hundred past due. The electric--they’re demanding a hundred deposit just to get us set up again. And where will we get food if we pay the electric?”

He staggered over to the couch and sat in the dim sunlight, which was the only light he’d seen for the past four days. They had mostly slept at night and after dark got around to the bathroom and the bong by means of flashlights. He knew now it would be at least a month before they could get the lights, the TV, the coffee maker back on.

“You’re going to go back to that swindler and demand your money back. We can’t take in any fucking pets, not to mention that damn hooker!”

Alex was on his hands and knees, the piglet in front of him, pinching its tail as it spun around to nibble his hand just before he’d move it away. The pig spun about again and again in glee, as Alex swooped his fingers in to pinch its rear then draw them away when the piglet playfully snapped. “You’re going to be some good food, aren’t you, yes,” Alex was saying. “We’ll get you nice and fat, yes we will.” He turned again to Marty, who sat with his hand covering his eyes. Marty had gotten stoned three hours earlier and he was fatigued with a burnout headache. “Hey, what should we name him?” said Alex.

Marty stood and wandered back to his room. “I’m taking a nap,” he said.

“That’s a mistake with the electricity out,” said Alex. “You’ve got to do your sleeping after dark.”

Marty was already in his room. He closed his door, just before Alex heard him scream in rage, then what sounded like a fist hitting plaster. Then all was quiet, and Alex went back to playing with his new piglet, with the joy of a child with a brand new puppy.