Because Pigs Really Can Fly

by Tamar Richardson

*

"Mommy! Mommy!" I bounced into the barn yard. I paced impatiently on my little, pig legs, waiting for my mother to get up from wallowing in the mud.

"Yes? What is it, child?" she asked.

"I overheard Farmer Ben talking to Mr. Smith," I began, excitedly. "They were talking about the corn crop. Farmer Ben said that the crop will grow when pigs fly." I walked to and fro for a bit, waiting for her to catch on to what I was getting at. She took too long, so I impatiently blurted out, "Mommy, if I fly, then I'll be helping Farmer Ben."

She twitched her curled, piggish tail. "Pigs can't fly," she finally said.

"Why not?" I questioned. It never occurred to me that I couldn't fly. I mean, if my friend Marcus (the goose) can, why can't I?

She sat there thinking for quite awhile. "Go ask Marcus."

* *

"Hey, Marcus," I called.

"Hi, Travis," he greeted. He waddled over towards me.

"Why can't pigs fly?" I asked him right out.

"How do you mean?"

I quickly explained Farmer Ben's dilemma. "So, if I fly, his corn will grow."

Marcus listened patiently to me during my monologue. At last, he spoke, "Well, see, I'm a bird. Bird's fly. It's what we do," he paused. "You're not a bird. You're a pig, thus you can't fly." He appeared very proud to have proven me wrong. The thing is, he hadn't.

"Remember when Molly was looking through that book with all those animals in it?" I asked. Molly was Farmer Ben's daughter. "Remember there was that bird that couldn't fly. It was very tall. It had long legs. Well, anyway, it couldn't fly." I paused. "So, if not all birds can fly, maybe some non-birds can." I smiled, knowing I had beaten him.

"Go ask Owl first, before you do anything stupid. He is very wise. Perhaps he can talk you out of this." Marcus was wrong. Nothing could convince me otherwise, but I would at least listen to what Owl had to say.

* *

"Owl?" I said, straining my neck to look up at him in his tree. "Owl, why can't pigs fly?"

"Because they do not have wings," he said in a very deep voice. His tongue rolled around in his mouth.

"But what about witches?" I asked.

"What about witches?"

"They don't have wings, but they can fly."

"Witches are not real."

I looked at him shocked. Everyone knew that witches were real. In fact, they lived just off in the forest nearby. This is why no one left the farm. There was too much of a risk of being captured and eaten by them. I concluded that I couldn't trust anything the owl said. And so, I did the only thing left open to me: I attempted to fly.

* *

I walked toward the very edge of the farm. There was a rather large cliff there. I stood as far away from the edge as I could, got a running start, and jumped off the cliff. I started frantically moving my legs around, trying to fly. And I did fly, but only for awhile. The ground just got in the way.

*