Extract from Chester and the Green Pig

Chester turned around. Set into an earthy bank was the concrete pipe. As he looked, it began to shrink – the pipe, the hole and a bright green circular door that the pig had pushed open. Soon there was no sign that anything had ever been there.

"Amazing!" Chester said, completely forgetting that the way back home had just disappeared in front of his eyes.

"Amazing?" repeated the squeaky old man voice. "No, not really!"

Chester looked down and saw the green pig right at his feet. "Well, I think it's amazing," the boy continued. He looked up to note a huge butterfly with wings the color of red tinfoil.

"Go ahead," said the voice.

Chester turned to the little pig again. It stared back blankly – no more and no less than you would expect from any little porker. "You won't speak to me when I'm looking at you, will you?" Chester said. The animal seemed to give a little nod. "How very odd. Are you shy? Is that what it is?" The pig looked bored. It sat down. "Very well – so you want me to go ahead, right?" The green pig laid its head on the bare earth."Okay, I get the message." Chester took two steps and ploughed into the meadow.

He immediately jumped back, for the air was suddenly filled with cries of pain and complaints.

"Get off, you're squashing me," squealed some grasses.

"Oh my poor petals, he just killed Aristotle and all of his three sisters," cried an Indian Paintbrush flower.

"And he has done to death that poor green and yellow striped caterpillar," moaned a small sunflower. "I was only chatting to him this morning."

"Aristotle! Caterpillar!" said a very shocked Chester. "I didn't kill any Aristotle or a…"

"Yes you did," snapped a lone blade of grass. "He was one of my favorite ants."

"Can everything talk around here?" Chester asked. Nothing answered. All the boy could hear was the bees buzzing as they collected pollen. "Well, I'm very sorry," he continued. "I wouldn't harm a flea – not on purpose. Well, when I say a flea…"

"Can't you walk without stepping on the plants and insects?" said the pig while Chester was not looking.

"No, of course not. That's impossible."

The pig was behind Chester now. "Everything is impossible to you, it seems."

"Everything is impossible to you, it seems," echoed the flowers, the grasses and the insects.

"Very well," sighed the pig. With that Chester suddenly felt himself being raised up into the air. He felt very unsteady for a moment, but when he was able to look down, he noticed that his sandals were a good ten inches off the ground.

"Do not, and I repeat do not, say that is impossible," continued the pig, making sure he was out of view.