Chapter 6 - Little Cory

A pig.

It was the size of a medium dog, mostly pink with some brown speckles, and it snorted along the ground as it walked. George couldn't believe Jon had allowed it. Shawn had clearly had it long enough that he was fully accustomed to the idea; he held the leash attached to the harness on the way out of the building with an air of unaffectedness, like walking a pig down the streets of Philadelphia was the most normal thing in the world.

Shawn approached the car and opened the door.

"Absolutely not," George said.

Shawn's eyes went wide. "But where am I supposed to take him?"

"I don't care. He's not coming into my house."

"He's trained! I mean, mostly."

George pointed back at Jon's apartment building.

Shawn's voice caught. "What am I supposed to do? Leave him in the apartment?"

"He's not climbing into my car."

"No, of course not. Pigs can't really climb. He can lie on my lap."

"He most certainly cannot."

"Fine, I'll put him in the backseat."

"He's not coming in this car at all."

"I can walk him to your house?"

"No."

"I already told him he could come with me!"

"Well, tell him the plans have changed."

"Nope. If you're going to reject Little Cory, you're going to break it to him yourself."

George felt absolutely ridiculous, but he looked down at the pig. "You're not coming to my house."

The pig, predictably, didn't understand English.

Shawn's eyes begged. "Come on, man."

"Shawn, what were you planning to do with him if you were staying at the Matthews'?"

"I don't know. I didn't plan this far, man."

"Have you been coming back here everyday to feed him and walk him?"

"Yeah. Always."

"Who pays for his food?"

"Uh...I have enough allowance saved to take care of him for a little while..."

George frowned down at the pig. "Is it even legal to keep him in your apartment?"

"We've never had a problem. Well, except once when Topanga called animal control. But Jon helped me get to keep him."

"How did you find yourself in possession of a farm animal in the first place?"

Shawn fidgeted with the rope. "His owner abandoned him at the trailer park," he said. "I knew how he felt, so..."

George sighed, suddenly understanding why Jon had allowed this. George had already made a lot of decisions he regretted this summer. What was one more? As long as he set the proper ground rules and enforced the boundaries firmly... "He does not come into the house."

Shawn perked up. "He likes it outside."

"He does not come into the car."

"I already said I would walk him back."

"He doesn't touch my garden."

"But your whole yard is garden."

"You know what I mean."

"He's a good pig."

"He's your responsibility. I won't be feeding him or walking him or...picking up after him."

"I know. He's mine. Jon doesn't take care of him, I do."

George wished Jon had warned him about this. He supposed he couldn't be too angry with a man in a hospital bed. "Very well."

Shawn grinned. "Thank you, Mr. Feeny! You won't regret it!"

I already do. George thought it, but he knew better than to say it.

Settling into an unfamiliar home without Jon was hard, even if Shawn did have the space to be alone when he wanted to be. Having Little Cory with him made everything so much better.

Of course, Feeny got to the house a lot quicker than Shawn did, since he was driving and Shawn was walking. Shawn didn't want to hurry Little Cory. It had been over a week since he'd gotten to be outside for more than a few minutes, and he really seemed to be enjoying it.

Feeny was sitting outside in his yard when Shawn arrived. "Keep him away from the flower beds," he said.

"You know, he doesn't respond well to people criticizing him before he's even done anything wrong," Shawn said.

Feeny sighed, and he stopped talking.

Shawn hadn't actually expected that to work. He knelt down and patted Little Cory. "We'll get back home soon," he said. "Jon's getting better every day." He had to say things like that, even if he didn't know yet whether they were true.

Feeny went inside after a few minutes, and he called Shawn inside to help with making dinner. Shawn didn't mind that. Jon had sometimes had him help, too, though more often he was too busy trying to get Shawn to do his homework. They were roasting chicken and making some kind of rice and vegetable dish. It was actually okay. Feeny's cooking style was a lot different from Jon's, but they both made food that was a lot better than anything Shawn had gotten at the trailer park, or in the school cafeteria.

It was getting dark by the time they finished the dishes. Shawn went out into the yard and led Little Cory into the house.

"Shawn!" Feeny yelled.

"What?"

"I thought we agreed he's staying outside."

"Yeah, he is!" Shawn stared at him in confusion for a second, before it hit him. "Wait. You didn't mean at night, too, did you?"

"We made a deal."

Shawn's jaw dropped. "I didn't think you meant at night!"

"I told you he isn't coming into the house."

"He'll just come in to sleep! You can't make him sleep outside!"

"He's an animal."

"He's scared of the dark!"

"Won't it be dark in your room?"

"No, I sleep with the lights on."

Feeny raised his eyebrows. "You do?"

"Yeah, I always have."

" . . . Oh." Feeny stood for a moment, like he wasn't sure what to say. He breathed in and stopped himself a couple of times, before he finally grumbled, "Fine."

Shawn nodded, and he looked down to pick up Little Cory, only to realize he'd wandered off while they were arguing.

And then there was a crashing sound from the kitchen.

"Look what you did!" Shawn cried, and he raced toward the kitchen to find it a trash can overturned and food scraps all over the floor.

Little Cory snuffled at them, and he ate a couple of pieces of garbage. He looked up at Shawn, not even bothering to look ashamed at what he'd done. He snorted happily.

"No," Shawn said, kneeling down to clean up the trash. "We don't knock over trash cans. We've been over this."

Little Cory looked a little less pleased with himself.

"This is exactly why I didn't want him inside!" Feeny shouted.

Shawn whirled to face him. "It's not his fault! He's still getting used to the environment, there's gonna be some hiccups!"

"Let me clean up the mess. You take him to your room and shut the door

Shawn gritted his teeth and picked him up to carry him up the stairs.

Once they were inside his room, Shawn set him down on the carpet and knelt down to pet him. "I'll get you something to eat in just a minute. But no treats tonight. If we're gonna stay here, you have to be on your best behavior."

Little Cory snorted and snuggled up against Shawn's side, then rolled onto his back.

Shawn rubbed his belly. "Okay. A little bit of treats. But this is your one warning. You gotta behave."

Little Cory didn't argue, so Shawn decided he understood.

"I'm gonna grab you some dinner. I'll be right back."

Little Cory rolled over and laid on his stomach, and Shawn bent down to bury his cheek in his side for a second.

"I'm so happy you're here," he whispered, then he left the room, closing the door behind himself.

He couldn't keep the skip out of his step as he headed down into the kitchen to grab the scraps from dinner. Feeny sat at the table with a steaming mug, but Shawn ignored him.

"What does he eat?"

Shawn avoided eye contact. "Most of the stuff we eat. I buy him some food for pigs from a farm supply shop, though."

"He won't steal from the table?"

"Not anymore."

Feeny nodded slowly. "Where does he, ah, do his business?"

"He scratches at the door when he needs to go out." Shawn quickly added, "I clean up after him."

"Does he dig?"

"Yeah, he likes digging. He won't do it in the carpet anymore, though." Shawn shifted his weight. "Tomorrow I can build him a pen outside so he doesn't mess with your garden."

Feeny didn't say anything.

Feeny's objection to all of this had almost been funny at first. The look on his face when Shawn brought out the pig—priceless. It was getting really annoying now, though.

No, annoying was the wrong word. It hurt. It didn't just feel like objection; it felt like rejection. At the same time, he couldn't really blame Feeny. Jon hadn't even wanted Little Cory to stay, at first.

Shawn sighed. "Look . . . if you want us to go . . . we don't have to stay here."

"Shawn—"

"We can go stay at Jon's apartment. I'll be fine. I'm used to being on my own. But he's not, and I don't want to leave him."

"Shawn, remember when you were saying that . . . Little Cory . . . needed some time to get used to change?"

That wasn't exactly how Shawn had said it, but he just said, "Yeah."

"I need some time, too."

Shawn nodded. He didn't like it. But it made sense. Shawn needed time to settle in, too. They all would.

Feeny inclined his head toward the stairs. "He's waiting for you."

Shawn smiled, and he took the food up to his room.

Shawn let Little Cory eat while he got ready for bed, and he used some extra blankets to make him a place to sleep. "I'm going to leave the door cracked," Shawn whispered. "I know you're not gonna misbehave on purpose, but I don't want you to have an accident inside. Okay?"

Little Cory burrowed down into the blankets.

Shawn gave him a hug through the covers. "Good night," he said, and he put himself to bed.

George was up early the next morning. It was hard to believe that Shawn had only been with him for a day. Most summers flew by; he had a feeling this one would stretch on endlessly.

He made his coffee a little stronger than usual. He supposed he was going to need it, perhaps even more than he did during the school year.

He was almost to the door with his mug when he heard shuffling at the staircase that didn't sound like a person. He felt his heart sink.

George turned to see the pig lumbering down the stairs, then trotting to the back door. He scratched at it.

"No," George said, before realizing what it meant. He opened the door, and the pig ran outside.

George took a sip of his coffee and followed him. "Now, I warn you, if you decide to go digging in my flower beds . . ."

Then Shawn's words about criticism hit him. He knew Shawn was talking about himself, not the pig. It was more than obvious Shawn's entire history with the pig had to do with himself more than it. But he also clearly loved it, and George wasn't going to get anywhere with Shawn unless he at least tried to accept this part of the boy.

Besides, the pig wasn't trying to dig. It snuffled around before finding a place by the house to relieve itself. George had to believe Shawn when he said he'd clean it up—Shawn had showed a surprising amount of responsibility with the pig so far. If only he would apply himself so aptly to his schoolwork!

George lowered himself into his chair and sipped his coffee. A moment later, he felt something snuffling at his feet.

He jumped, and the pig backed up, then approached, sniffing at George's legs, then looking up at him.

George sighed and leaned forward to pat the pig on the head. It leaned forward into his touch, and it was surprisingly warm. What's more, it felt clean.

Despite himself, George chuckled. Lillian had always wanted a pet.