On cue my girlfriend played the soundtrack of the pig farm that he had been hearing over and over when he was in the water chamber. I opened his door and turned on the light. He looked terrified. His eyes were as big as saucers and his face was sort of in shock. I held a cattle prod in my right hand and approached his cage. He scurried to the back corner. I tried to soothe him, using the same commands and phrases from the audio recording which had been playing over and over in his head. "Its ok little Pig, don't worry, everything is going to be fine," oh how I lied.I unlocked his cage and opened the door. I called for him to come out, but he wasn't moving. I walked over to the cage and flicked the switch on my cattle prod. It made a hissing and snapping sound, but he didn't move. As I brought the cattle prod closer to him, he began to whimper like a scared piggie! Oh I was almost creaming in my pants with the look on his face and the sounds coming out of him! Right on time, the pig. On the shuttle to the Arizona Memorial, there was a chilly breeze while we stood together and I rested my arm on her shoulder. When she noticed, Liz moved in closer, very slightly, but I could notice it. It felt good to me, and, presumably to her too, and if I had mentioned it, she would have used the crowd in the boat as an excuse, even though it wasn’t that crowded. The memorial itself, to the American sailors who had died in the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor and, by extension, all the Americans who had served their country during World War Two, was impressive and solemn. The museum and the other facilities were equally solemn and informative and we both learned things we hadn’t known. On the boat back to shore, Liz stood close to me, her face resting on my chest, even though there were very few people on board, and my arm was around her with my hand resting comfortably on her hip. After lunch at a small restaurant featuring Hawaiian food we went back to the hotel to collect our.
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