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glanced at his notes. "So this guy threatening you did it happen before or after the pig flew past?"

Harry shook his head and muttered something.

"After," John said.

"And you think this pig flew past because"

"I think, that is, I don't know why it did, but I believe it was a sign. The flying pig meant something."

The officer sighed. "Son, I don't think there's anything I can do to help you. Not directly, anyway. However, I believe maybe a friend of mine could."

"Friend?"

"Doctor Freedman. He may be able to help you work out some issues. He did wonders for me."

"A shrink?" John hollered, leaping to his feet. He fell back.

Harry's eyes widened. "Ah, should you be telling people about your therapy, sir?"

"It's always sad when a child needs help of this sort. If things went my way, why, no one would need therapy until they've at least graduated high school, but-"

John leapt to his feet again. "We graduated last year! I'm old enough!"

Harry slapped his palm to his forehead and shrank down in his seat.

"Listen, son. I really do suggest you talk to Doctor Freedman. Other than offering that advice, there's nothing I can do. Now, good day to you."

* * *

They stepped out into the bright daylight. John paused on the steps of the police station to take the sunglasses from his shirt pocket and slide them on through his short, sweat-damp hair. Harry walked on with a touch of impatience. John jogged to catch up.

"So, want to hit some therapy now?" John asked. Harry ignored him and walked on. "What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?"

Harry stopped and turned. "Look, man, you don't usually lie, and that's a good thing. So I don't know why you insist on spreading this flying pig rubbish around." He glanced at the police station, now a few yards behind. "Especially to the authorities." He turned back and walked on.

John stood in stunned silence. After a minute, he ran to catch up again. "I'm not lying," he said between gasps of breath. He mentally cursed himself for being out of shape.

"No? So you really are crazy?"

"No!"

Harry gave John a sidelong glance as he walked. "You're my best friend, and I'll stick by you, but I really don't believe in flying pigs." He turned his attention forward again just in time to miss tripping over a large hole in the sidewalk. John, his attention still focussed on Harry, stepped right in and fell over.

He remained sprawled, face down, for a few seconds. Harry crouched down and held out a helping hand. John took hold and muttered "This is just not my day." He stood up,

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