The Pigman Read Online Free Page A

a way they sort of respect it. Actually, I think they’re a little frightened of it. But they’re just as bad as he is when it comes to lying, and that may be the real reason they can’t help John the way they should. From what I’ve seen of them, they don’t seem to know what’s true and what isn’t true anymore. His father goes around bragging how he phonied up a car-insurance claim to get a hundred dollars to replace a piece of aluminum on their new car, which he had really replaced himself. Mrs. Conlan goes to the store and tells the clerk he forgot to give her Green Stamps the last time she was in, and she knows very well she’s lying. It’s a kind of subconscious, schizophrenic fibbing, if you ask me, and if those parents don’t have guilt complexes, I don’t know who has. I only hope I won’t be that kind of adult.
    “I don’t know where you get that from, John!”
    I do.
    “Miss Truman, are you still there?”
    “Yes, Mr. Pignati,” I muttered.
    “Well, did you get that joke? I didn’t hear you laugh.”
    “No, I’m sorry I didn’t get that joke.”
    “I didn’t think you did. I said, ‘In many states a hunting license entitles you to one deer and no more. Just like a marriage license.’ Ha, ha, ha!”
    “That’s very funny, Mr. Pignati. That is very funny.”
    I must have sounded uncomfortable because he said, “I’m sorry if I’m taking up too much of your time, Miss Truman. You wanted a donation, did you say—for what charity?”
    “The L & J Fund, Mr. Pignati.” I bit my lip.
    “I’ll be glad to send you ten dollars, Miss Truman. Where do I send it?”
    John bolted upright from his ridiculous position of pressing an ear against the receiver.
    “Tell him to send it to your house.”
    “I will not!”
    “Let me talk to him,” John demanded, taking the phone right out of my hand. Just from the look in his eyes I knew what was going to happen. You just have to know how John does things, and you’ll know one thing will always happen. He’ll end up complicating everything.

5
     
    Y ou have to know how demented Dennis and Norton are to understand that when I told them Angelo Pignati caught on Lorraine was a phony and hung up, they believed it. I could tell them I went alligator hunting in St. Patrick’s Cathedral last night, and they’d believe it. I just didn’t want them to know Mr. Pignati had invited us over to his house the next day to give us the ten bucks for the L & J Fund. Especially Norton. If he knew about it, he’d try to hustle in on the deal, and he’d never stop at ten dollars. I didn’t want anyone really to take advantage of the old man. Some people might think that’s what I was doing, but not the way Norton would have. In fact, if Lorraine felt like saying one of us murdered Mr. Pignati, she should have blamed Norton. He’s the one who finally caused all the trouble.
    The next day Lorraine chickened out and said she wouldn’t go with me to collect the money.
    “Give me one good reason,” I demanded.
    “Because it’s wrong to take money from an old man, that’s why.”
    “All through history artists have survived by taking money from old men. There’s nothing wrong with having a patron.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “Don’t you know anything?”
    “I said I don’t—”
    “We can tell him the L & J Fund is intended to subsidize writers and actors if you want.”
    “You’re crazy.”
    I decided not to push the matter, but I did need a dollar and a quarter for a six-pack, so when I got home I asked my Old Lady for it.
    “No, no, no,” she said in her best grating voice, all the while shining the coffee table in our sparkling living room, which sparkles because nobody’s allowed to live in it. She’s got plastic covers on everything. I mean, I like my Mom and all that, but she runs around like a chicken with its head cut off.
    “Your father says you’re not to have another penny until he speaks to you!”
    “What did I