Gump & Co. (26 page)

‘It’s okay, Sergeant,’ I tole him. ‘You doin a fine job. It’s good havin you around. After all, we been together more or less since them days in Vietnam, with Bubba an them, an that’s been more than half my life ago.’

‘Yeah, well, that’s so, I guess. War or peace, I guess I can’t get rid of you, can I, Gump?’

‘Let’s just hope they ain’t no more wars to fight, Sergeant,’ I says. But in fact, they was one more, tho I didn’t know it at the time.

In any case, little Forrest an me, we got packed up to go to Arkansas an the Whitewash River. Ever since we got in the oyster processin bidness, little Forrest an me have had a sort of uneasy truce. I mean, he is on his best behavior, an has saved me from mysef an my own stupidity more than once. He is vice-president an chief executive officer of Gump & Company, but in truth, he really runs the bidness, cause I certainly ain’t got the brains to.

Well, it is a cool spring day when me an little Forrest get up to the Whitewash River. We hired ourselfs a canoe an packed it with pork n beans an Vienna sausages an cheeses an bologna an bread for sambwiches, an off we went.

The Whitewash River is very beautiful, an all the way down it, little Forrest is explainin to me the geologic history of the area, which you can see cut into the
riverbanks from time to time. Like he says, it is to be seen in fossils – like me, I guess. We are close to the beginnin of the famous Smackover Formation, he says, which is where all the awl in the whole southeastern United States comes from.

At night we’d camp out on the banks of the river an build a little fire from driftwood an set around an cook our pork n beans an eat our supper, an I am thinkin that this is the first vacation I have ever had. Little Forrest is pretty cheery, an I am hopin me an him can get along better as the days go by. I sure am proud of the way he has growed up an taken charge of so much stuff at the Gump & Company oyster plant, but I am also worried that he is growin up too fast. I mean, I wonder if he has ever had a real boyhood, an got to play football an stuff like I did. I ast him about it, but he says it don’t matter.

One night he give me a big surprise. He reaches in his knapsack an pulls out a ole harmonica, which in fact, is the one I have kep all these years when I played it over in Vietnam an later with Jenny’s band, The Cracked Eggs. To my amazement, he done begun to play some of the ole tunes, an he played em sweeter an prettier than I ever could of. I ast him how he learned to play the thing, an he just says, ‘Natural instinct, I guess.’

We is almost finished with our trip down the river when I see a feller on the banks hollerin an wavin at us an motionin to come over. So that’s what we did. We pulled in at the bank, an he come on down an grap our bow line.

‘Hi,’ he says. ‘You fellers new in these parts?’

We tole him we was from Mobile, Alabama, an that we was just passin through, but he says we gotta come up an look at some property he is tryin to sell on the river. He says it is the best property in the whole state of Arkansas, an will give it to us real cheap.

Now, I tole him we was not in the property buyin
bidness just yet, but he is so persistent that I figgered it wouldn’t hurt to foller him to his property, so as not to hurt his feelins. Well, when we got there, I gotta admit, I was somewhat disappointed. I mean, it was nice land an all, but they was a lot of sort of shabby buildins aroun, an people with car gardens and rubber tires in they yards, painted white. It kinda looked like a place I might of lived in mysef – at least till a year or so ago.

Anyhow, he says to just call him Bill, an not to worry about how the ‘outstructures’ looked, account of in a week or so they would all be torn down an replaced by million-dollar houses, an so if we signed up now, we would be the first to get in on this good deal.

‘Let me tell you fellers somethin,’ Bill says, ‘I am a politician in these parts, but politickin don’t pay enough, an so I have made the investment of my lifetime in the Whitewash River enterprise, an I guarantee it can’t bring none of us nothin but satisfaction and success. You know what I mean?’

Well, ole Bill looked like sort of a nice guy. I mean, he seemed pretty genuine an had a husky down-to-earth voice, white woolly hair, a big ole reddish nose look like Santa Claus’s, an a nice laugh – an he even introduced us to his wife, Hillary, who come out of a trailer wearin a granny dress an a hairdo look like a Beatle wig an brung us some Kool-Aid.

‘Listen,’ Bill says in almost a whisper, ‘I ain’t sposed to say anything to anybody about this, but the truth is, this Whitewash River property is right over the Smackover Awl Formation, an even if you don’t build you a house here, if you buy it now, afore anybody else finds out, you will be millionaires a hundrit times over, account of the awl.’

Just about then, a ole feller shows up on the scene, an when I seen him, I like to of fainted dead away.

‘Fellers,’ Bill says, ‘I want you to meet my partner.’

It was Mister Tribble, my ole chess championship
mentor, who everbody says was the one that stole all the money from me in the srimp bidness way back when.

When he seen me, Mister Tribble jumped back an looked sort of like he’s gonna run off, but then he got hissef together an come up an shakes my hand.

‘Well, it’s good to see you again, Forrest,’ he says.

‘Yeah,’ I says. ‘What you doin here?’

‘It is a long story,’ he says. ‘But after your srimp bidness went bust, I needed a job. So I heard the governor, here, needed an adviser, an he took me on.’

‘Governor?’ I ast.

‘Why, yes, Bill is the governor of this state.’

‘Then how come you out sellin real estate?’ I ast him.

‘Cause it’s the steal of a lifetime,’ Bill says. ‘Why, all you gotta do is sign here an the deal is done. An ole Mr Tribble here, he will make his commission an profits, an we will all get rich.’

‘We is already rich,’ somebody says. It was little Forrest done piped up at last an said that.

‘Well, then you can get even richer,’ Bill says. ‘Why, it is rich people makes the world go around. I love rich people. Rich people are my friends.’

Kinda sounded to me like he was runnin for president, but then, I am just a poor ole idiot. What in the world do I know?

‘Now, I guess, Forrest,’ says Mister Tribble, ‘you are wonderin what happened to all your money from the srimp bidness?’

‘Well, it crosses my mind, from time to time,’ I answered.

‘Frankly, I took it,’ Mister Tribble says. ‘I mean, you were away assin around in New Orleans, an when the srimp begun to run out, I figgered I’d better put it in safekeepin for you.’

‘Yeah? How’d you do that?’ I ast.

‘Why, I purchased this lovely tract here on the
Whitewash River. It is the investment of a lifetime,’ Mister Tribble says.

‘That’s bullshit,’ says little Forrest. ‘This land ain’t worth a peehole in the snow.’

‘Ah, now, who are you, son?’ Mister Tribble ast.

‘Name’s Forrest – An I ain’t your son.’

‘Oh, I see. Well . . .’

‘An what you’re sayin is, we own this dump?’

‘Ah, well, not exactly. You see, I used the srimp company money just for a down payment. I mean, a man has to live on somethin. So with the exception of the one-point-seven-million-dollar loan I had to take out, you own every square inch of this place.’

‘Yeah,’ Bill says, ‘but don’t worry about the debt or anythin. After all, you know how federal savins and lone bidnesses are. They don’t care if you pay it back or not.’

‘Issat so?’ I ast.

‘Never will, if I ever get to be president,’ Bill says.

Well, after that, we took our leaves from Bill an Mister Tribble, an little Forrest is hoppin mad.

‘You oughta sue them bastids,’ he says.

‘For what?’

‘For stealin your money an puttin it in that hole of dirt, damnit! Can’t you see that place is one of them scam real estate deals? Who the hell would want to live there?’

‘I thought you liked this river. You could go campin out on it ever night.’

‘Not anymore, I don’t,’ he says. An so we paddled down the Whitewash River the rest of the day, an little Forrest, he ain’t sayin much. It look like I am in the doghouse again.

Well, like it will happen, spring turned to summer an the summer to autumn, an the Gump & Company
bidness is still goin great guns. It almost seems like we can do no wrong, an sometimes I just can’t believe it, you know? But me an Gretchen is doin fine together, an little Forrest seems to be happy as a clam – or a oyster. One day I ast Gretchen an little Forrest if they wanted to go see a football game. Actually, I first thought about astin just little Forrest, account I remember all Gretchen used to say about football was ‘
ach!
’ But this time, she didn’t say no such thing.

‘I have been reading about your football now, Forrest, and I’m looking forward to the game’ was how she put it.

Well, it wasn’t exactly a game I took them to, it was more like a
event
. This was the Sugar Bowl down in New Orleans where the University of Alabama was to play the University of Miami for the national championship on New Year’s day.

The University of Miami players was runnin all over town before the game braggin about how they was gonna whup the Crimson Tide an make us ashamed to show our faces anyplace. Kind of sounded like them cornshucker jackoffs from the University of Nebraska that we had to play in the Orange Bowl when I was on the team. But that was a long, long time ago, an gettin longer.

Anyhow, we gone on to the game, an let me say this: It was a sight! They play the game these days inside a big ole dome on fake grass an all, but they ain’t nothin fake about the game. In fact, it was a war. I had me a private box an invited some of the rinky dinks I had assed around with over the years, includin good ole Wanda from the strip joint down in the quarter. She an Gretchen got on just fine, especially when Gretchen tole her she’d been a barmaid back in Germany.

‘They all just want one thing, honey – but it ain’t a bad deal’ was how Wanda handled the situation.

Well, not to get to describin things too far, let me
just say that the Crimson Tide of Alabama whupped them Hurricanes from the University of Miami so bad they left town with they tails between they legs, an so I finally got to see my ole alma mater win a national championship – an so did Gretchen.

Little Forrest was beside himsef – especially when they announced my name at halftime as bein one of the ole fellers present – but Gretchen, now, she like to of gone crazy!

‘Defense! Defense! Defense!’ was all she could shout, an lo an behole, our defense got so good it would literally snatch the ball out of the hands of them Hurricanes.

When it was over, we all hugged each other, an I could see that whatever else happened, we was all three gonna be friends forever. Which is good, account of I am always fond of havin friends.

One day it is sort of misty on the bay, an I been thinkin that now is the time for me to do my thing with ole Lieutenant Dan an Sue. Poor ole Sue.

So I got out the little ashes cans General Scheisskopf gave me back in Kuwait that day, an I gone an got me my ole skiff an untied it from the dock an started to row out of the bayou. I had tole Gretchen an little Forrest what I was fixin to do an they both ast to come with me, but I says, no, this is somethin I gotta do by mysef.

‘Hey, Mister Gump,’ somebody shouts out from shore. ‘Why don’t you take one of these new boats with the motors on em? You don’t have to row no boat anymore.’

‘Awe, sometimes I kinda like to,’ I called back to him, ‘just for ole times’ sake.’

So that’s what I done.

All through the channel an out into the back bay I could hear the fog horns of boats an bells from the buoys an things, an the sun is settin like a big ole red biscuit through the mist. I rowed on out to our new
oyster beds by the sewage treatment plant. Everbody else done gone home by this time, so I got the place to mysef – an man, it shore smells ripe!

I drifted downwind a little an then pointed the bow of the skiff up a bit so’s to have some room, an where I figgered the biggest an fattest oysters would be growin I open the little cans an I begun to say a prayer that Dan an Sue was gonna be okay, an then I thowed em overboard, into the dark waters, an while I ought to of been sad, I wadn’t, somehow. They done come to the end of their journey, was the way I looked at it. Actually, I would of preferred to have a jungle to leave Sue in, but since there ain’t any around here, I figgered the oyster beds was the next best thing. After all, he’d be down there with Dan, who was his pal. I watched the tin cans sort of flutter to the bottom, an for just a moment, they kind of shined back up at me like stars, an then they was gone.

I turned the skiff around an was fixin to row back when I heard a gong from one a them big ole bell buoys, an when I look up, there is Jenny settin on top of it, slowly rocking back an forth, an lookin as beautiful as ever. Good ole Jenny. She always seems to be there when I need her.

‘Well, Forrest,’ she says, ‘I guess you finally listened to me, huh?’

‘What about?’

‘Way back when. About payin attention to Dan.’

‘Oh,’ I says. ‘Yeah, I spose I did. Pretty good, huh?’

‘Yes, I’d say it was. You just needed somebody to keep repeating “oysters” to you, and finally you’d get the picture.’

‘Well, I hope I don’t screw it up this time,’ I says.

‘I don’t think you will. Not this time.’

‘You look kinda sad,’ I said. ‘Somethin wrong?’

‘Nope. It’s just this time might be our last, you know? I mean, I think you’re really all right now. An I got
other fish to fry – or oysters to shuck – If you get my meaning.’

‘But what about little Forrest? I thought it was all about him?’

‘Nope, not really. It was always about you. Little Forrest is a fine young man. He can take care of himself. But you, you needed a little lookin after.’

‘I ain’t sure he likes me,’ I said.

‘I think he does,’ Jenny says. ‘It’s just kids. I mean, remember how we were at his age?’

‘It’s been a long time ago.’

‘Now, what about Gretchen?’ Jenny ast. ‘How’s that comin along. You know I told you I liked her a while ago. She’s, well – she’s real people.’