Pig Man

The story of Pigman/How it all began

Once a long time ago, on a street called Jubilee. I lived there during college. Rent was cheap, transit stop right in front, and the neighborhood struck the balance between eclectic and safe.   I lived with Fleshy and Daisy in a tiny upstairs apartment. We shared it with two roomates. Both worked the night shift at a video rental company. I never saw them. There were always free movies to watch.  
 
Fleshy was a rather round rabbit and Daisy was a rather dynamic poodle. Jubilee was a very busy street. Our  yard did not have a fence, so I rigged up a clothesline- kinda-deal for Fleshy and Daisy. They would put on their harnesses and then run around the yard, in long, straight lines. 
Now, Jubilee besides being busy, also has a kind of magical feel. The residents encompassed all sorts of interesting people. The retired teacher who was also the only member of the Underground Order of the GroundHogs, the ex-nurse turned cat wrangler, the Vietnam Vet with his collection of Russian vehicles. Everyone was friendly and spent their days going about their own business.  

On occasion, these people would catch the attention of Daisy, and would bark. Whether in warning or excitement didn’t matter. Since the Man-who-lived-downstairs hated all animals, Daisy couldn't bark.  Fleshy never barked, because he was a rabbit.  Daisy’s barking would lead to the Man-who-lived-downstairs’ barking. Which would lead to eviction. So, no barking! 

So one warm spring day,  I put Daisy and Fleshy outside.Seconds later, Iheard the most awful barking and yelling!  
Fearing (and hoping) it was Man-who-lived-downstairs being beaten (or eaten) by a poodle, I ran down the stairs, threw open the door, and leaned out to see what the commotion was! 

There, against the house, was a man.  He was backed up against the house, palms pressed against the stucco, nowhere to go. Daisy was barking and jumping at him.  Luckily her clothesline leash did not allow her to make contact.. Daisy was hell bent on tearing this guy to pieces! Poodle turned into a police dog!  Fleshy was off somewhere just being Fleshy.  Because he was a rabbit.  Rabbits don't bark or try to eat people usually. It’s not that kind of story. 

I called out to Daisy, and apologized to the man.  The man, who was quite startled, and may I add, was wearing dress shoes AND shorts! Just stared at me in bewilderment. His eyes were so small, round and dark.I guess you could describe them as beady little eyes. Not flattering, but true.   
As his shock faded, the man turned and ran.  He had the most peculiar run, a sort of limping lope, not at all human.  He laughs Daisy and Fleshy inside. I put all thoughts of the interaction out of my mind, and continued with my day. oked over his shoulder at me, and made a squeal, and took off out of the yard.

The squeal. Those eyes. The combination of shorts and dress shoes. I shuddered. 

I went about my life as normal. Beady-eyed squealy man with a strange dress code wasn’t going to get me down.  No big deal, right? Wrong. 
The next day, when I came home from classes, I walked up the stairs, and past the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man in the kitchen, rooting around under the cabinet under the sink. The cabinet where we kept the cleaning supplies.  

No one in the house ever went into the cabinet under the sink, as no one ever cleaned. 

I walked past the man in the kitchen, into the living room. This is where the TV was, and this is where I was expecting to find my landlord, Yellow Bob. Yellow Bob was yellow because he had some sort of disease, and he was Bob because his parents were not at all creative.
Yellow Bob would come to the house , and let workers in, drink our beer, etc, and sit and watch movies on the TV. Free movies for Yellow Bob, cheap rent for us. It was a win-win situation. 

When I went into the living room, it was not Yellow Bob that I saw, but my roommates. I asked them if either of them knew why that man was in the kitchen. No one seemed too concerned that there was a man in the kitchen, rooting around under the sink.

Whatever. 

I went to let out Daisy and Fleshy.  As we entered the kitchen, Daisy’s hackles stood up, and she emitted a low growl.  Her lips began to curl and her fluffy poodle tail stood straight out from her body!  Fleshy slithered around to hide behind my legs.  
The man in the kitchen, hearing us, or sensing us standing behind him, turned from rooting under the sink and stared me right in the eyes.  We were both frozen in time for a brief moment. His round beady eyes looked strange next to the pale folds of his skin.  Even though it was cooler out,  he still wore shorts, which looked odd with his pointy dress shoes.    This was the same man from the other day that my dog had been barking at in the yard!  

“Get the hell out of my kitchen” I yelled at him politely.     

“Shut it, we’re watching TV!” came the response from the living room. 

I heard the volume turn up on the TV.  

 It was clear I was on msn't much of a walker/runner). We chased the pig-man down the stairs, and when he got to the door, he ran outside, grabbed a rake from the yard, and took off on his ten-speed bike.

Truth be told, I was relieved to see him leave.  I am not scared of a fight. Not at all.   It’s just all the paperwork that I havey own.   
With a loud squeal, the pigman shoved a chair towards me. 

I heard the volume on the TV go up again.

The pig man made a break for the stairs.  Rabbit, poodle and myself  hot on his heels!! (I was carrying Fleshy, he wa to fill in after.  (After showing an aptitude for karate as a child, I was legally registered with the police department as a lethal weapon)   
The pig man took off down Jubilee on his bike, rake in hand.

I went upstairs to tell my roommates what had happened.   “Shut it!, Star Trek is on!”  and they turned the volume up.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I began to notice the neatly piled piles of leaves piled in the yard, and pigman sized hoof prints pressed into the lawn…