Confessions of a Pig Boy: Uncertain Journey

I told her about being made Pig Boy. About the contest. About the danger of losing my job.

She listened as I spoke, gently massaging her belly, never taking her eyes from my face. When I was finished, she said, “You’ll be okay. I have confidence in you.”

“I’m glad one of us is confident,” I said. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, wishing I could sink into the mattress and sleep forever. “It may be too late for me to do anything.”

Krista read my eyes. “You’re not telling me something. What is it?”

The words were a dead weight in my chest. For a long time, I could not get them out. Finally, I told her about the phone call.

Before leaving work, I’d called the principal at the high school where I used to teach. I inquired if

I told him that I wanted to come back because I missed teaching the kids. But with Krista, only the truth would do.

“I can’t afford to lose my job and be out of work,” I said. “We’re going to have another baby.”

“So I noticed,” she said. “We’ll find a way. I know we will.” She read my doubt. “This is an obstacle, not a dead end. You’re still learning on the job. You haven’t given yourself enough time to make it work.”

“I don’t have a lot of time,” I said. I showed her the Caribbean Adventure packet. “This contest goes for three months, but the teaching job closes tomorrow.”

She looked at the packet, then back at me. “What are you saying?”

I tried looking Krista in the eye, but it was hard. I was confused, ashamed. From the other room, I heard Daniel shout that he’d found the book he was looking for.

“I’m taking the teaching job,” I said.

The baby kicked again and Krista winced. She adjusted her position on the bed, letting the discomfort subside. After a moment she said, “Tell me again why you would quit?”

Something was jerking inside of me now. It wasn’t life. It was fear. “I don’t have what it takes.”

“You don’t have what it takes to do

“I just feel so…stuck.”

Daniel came back into the room. He stood next to the bed, holding his book, watching us, knowing that he’d walked into the middle of something. Moonpie’s head popped up next to him, watery eyes staring. The four of us stayed that way, waiting for something to