Gump & Co. (7 page)

Outside the restaurant is a newspaper box with a copy of the
Atlanta Constitution,
headline says: M
ORON
W
OULD
-B
E
I
NVENTOR
C
AUSES
R
IOT
I
N
C
ITY
. The story reads somethin like this:

Anyhow, I kind of hid the newspaper an we went on into the restaurant an set down, an Mister McGivver begun tellin me about his farmin operation in West Virginia.

‘It ain’t too big right now,’ he says, ‘but someday, I’m gonna be the greatest hog raiser in the world.’

‘Yeah?’ I says. ‘That’s nice.’

‘Nice – shit on nice, Gump. It’s a dirty, low-down, smelly business, but there’s money in it. “Bring home the bacon” and all that crap. You just gotta be flexible. The hogs don’t take a whole lot of work, but there are other problems to contend with.’

‘Such as what?’ I ast.

‘Well for one thing, the people in Coalville, the little town where my farm is, they all the time complainin about the smell. Now, I admit that hogs smell, but the hell with that, Gump. Business is business. I got a thousand hogs and all they do is eat and shit all day. Of course it’s gonna smell. I got used to it, why can’t they?’

Anyhow, he goes on for a while about the hog bidness, an then he ast me about mysef.

‘Say,’ he says, ‘was you involved in that disturbance in Atlanta last night? It looked like some kind of riot was goin on.’

‘Well, not exactly,’ I says, which I guess was sort of a lie, but I just didn’t want to get into all that right now.

‘Where you headed?’ Mister McGivver ast.

‘I dunno,’ I said. ‘I gotta go someplace an get me a job.’

‘What line of work are you in, Gump?’ he says.

‘Oh,’ I says, ‘I guess you could say I done a lot of things. Right now I just gotta get back on my feet.’

‘Well, why don’t you come work for me awhile? There’s a lot to do around the farm.’

So that’s what I did.

NEXT YEAR OR
two, I learned more about hog farmin than anybody got a need or even a right to know.

They was all sorts of hogs Mister McGivver kept: big ole Poland Chinas an registered Hampshires, Mangalitzas, Durocs, Berkshires, Tamworths, an Cheshires. He even had a few merino sheep, which was sort of funny lookin, but Mister McGivver said he had em cause they was ‘nicer to look at.’

My job, I figgered out pretty soon, was to do just about everthin. I slopped the hogs in the mornin an afternoon. Then I’d go around with a shovel an try an get up as much of the pig shit as possible, which Mister McGivver would sell to crop farmers for manure. I fixed fences an tried to keep the barn cleaned. Every month or so I’d load up the truck with whatever pigs Mister McGivver wanted to sell, an take them to market up at Wheeling or wherever.

One time I’m comin back from a trip to pig auction, when a great idea come over me. I am drivin on the outskirts of this big ole army base, when it occur to me that they is wastin a lot of food that might be useful. I mean, when I was in the army a long time ago, I spent a lot of time on KP, account of I was always in hot water. An one of the things I remembered was that there was a lot of food an stuff that just got thowed out in the garbage from the mess halls, an it suddenly occurs to me that maybe we can use this food to slop the hogs. This is on account of hog food is expensive, an Mister
McGivver say this is the main reason he cannot expand the pig farmin as fast as he wants. An so I stopped by the headquarters an ast to see whoever was in charge. They shown me into a little office, an lo an behole, there is this big ole black feller settin behind a desk, an when he turned around, it was Sergeant Kranz, from my ole company back in Vietnam. He took one look at me an liked to jumped out of his skin!

‘Great godamighty! Is that
you
Gump? What in hell are you doin here?’

When I tole him, he bust out laughin till he liked to split his pants.

‘Pig farmer! Why, hell, Gump, with your record – Congressional Medal of Honor an all – you ought to be a general by now – or at least a sergeant major, like me! Mess hall leftovers for pigs, why – well, why not? Hell, Gump, you go see the mess hall first sergeant. Tell him I said to give you all the garbage you want.’ We talked about some of the ole times back in the war – about Bubba an Lieutenant Dan an some of the other fellers. I tole him about the Ping-Pong stuff in China an gettin involved with the NASA people an startin up the srimp bidness an playin football for the New Orleans Saints. He say that all sounds pretty peculiar, but what the hell, to each his own. For him, he says, he is a ‘thirty-year’ man in the army, after which he is gonna retire an open a saloon that won’t allow any civilians in, whatsoever, includin presidents of the United States. Finally Sergeant Kranz clapped me on the back an sent me on my way, an when I got back to the farm with a load of garbage for the hogs, Mister McGivver was beside himsef.

‘Goddamn, Gump,’ he shouts. ‘This is the most brilliant idea I’ve ever heard of! Why didn’t I think of it myself! With all this slop from the army, we can double – hell, quadruple our operation in a matter of months!’

Mister McGivver was so happy he done give me a fifty-cents-an-hour raise an let me have Sundays off. I used the time to go down to the town an sort of ass around. Coalville wadn’t much of a place. A few thousan people maybe, an a lot of them was out of work account of the coal seam that caused the town to be there in the first place had done played out. The mine entrance was just a big ole hole in the side of the hill overlookin the town now, an a lot of the guys set around the courthouse square an played checkers. There was a diner there called Etta’s where some of the ole miners gone to drink coffee, an sometimes I’d set there an drink coffee alongside em an hear them tell their stories about when the mine was runnin. Tell the truth, it was kind of depressin, but it was better than hangin around the hog farm all the time.

Meanwhile, it became my job to arrange for the mess hall slop to be brought to our hog farm. First thing we had to do was to separate the pig food from the other shit, like napkins an paper bags an boxes an cans an all. Sergeant Kranz done figgered out a way to do this, however. He made all the KPs in the various barracks divide the garbage into separate cans, marked Edible Trash an Inedible Trash. This worked good enough till visitors’ day at the army base came around an some of the mamas an daddies of the soldiers complained to the general about what their sons might be gettin to eat around there. After that, we figgered out a new code for the cans, but it worked just as well. In a few months our operation was workin so good Mister McGivver had to buy us two new trucks just to haul the garbage to our farm, an within a year, we had seven thousan an eight-one hogs to our name.

One day I done got a letter from Mrs Curran. She says it is gonna be summertime pretty soon, an she thinks it might be a good idea for little Forrest to spend some time with me. She don’t put it exactly in the letter,
but I get the impression little Forrest is not doin too good. It is like ‘boys will be boys,’ but also she adds that his school grades ain’t high as they used to be an ‘it might be helpful if he could spend some time with his daddy.’ Well, I wrote her back, sayin to send him on up on the train when school let out, an a few weeks later, he arrived at the station in Coalville.

When I first see him, I can hardly believe it! He has grown about a foot an a half an is a fine-lookin boy, with sandy brown hair an good clear blue eyes like his mama had. But when he sees me, he ain’t smilin.

‘How’s it goin?’ I ast.

‘What is this place?’ he says, lookin around an sniffin like he has arrived at the city dump.

‘It is where I live now,’ I tole him.

‘Yeah?’ he says.

I get the impression little Forrest has developed an attitude.

‘They used to mine coal here,’ I say, ‘afore it run out.’

‘Grandma says you are a farmer – that so?’

‘Sort of. You wanna go on up to the farm?’

‘Might as well,’ he says. ‘I don’t see no reason to stay here.’

So I took him up to Mister McGivver’s farm. Half a mile fore we arrive, little Forrest be holdin his nose an fannin the air. ‘What is that smell?’ he ast.

‘It is the hogs,’ I say. ‘What we raise on the farm is hogs.’

‘Shit! You expect me to stay here all summer with a bunch of stinkin hogs!’

‘Look,’ I say, ‘I know I ain’t been that good a daddy to you, but I am tryin to get us both by, an this is the only work I got right now. An I got to tell you, you ain’t sposed to be using words like “shit” around here. You is too young for that.’

He didn’t say nothin for the rest of the drive, an
when we got to Mister McGivver’s house, he gone on inside to his room an shut the door. Didn’t come out till suppertime, an when he did he mostly just sat at the table an played with his food. After he gone to bed, Mister McGivver lit up his pipe an say, ‘The boy don’t seem to be very happy, does he?’

‘I reckon not,’ I says, ‘but I think he’ll come around in a day or so. After all, he ain’t seen me in a pretty long time.’

‘Well, Gump, I think it might be a good thing for him to pull his weight around here, you know. Might make him grow up a little bit.’

‘Yeah,’ I says, ‘maybe so.’ I gone on to bed mysef an was feelin pretty low. I close my eyes an tried to think about Jenny, hopin she’d turn up to help me, but she didn’t. This time, I am on my own.

Next mornin I got little Forrest to help me slop the pigs, an the whole time he acted disgusted. All that day an the next, he didn’t say nothin to me cept when he had to, an then it wadn’t but a word or two. Finally I had a idea.

‘You got a dog or anythin at home?’ I ast.

‘Nope.’

‘Well, you want a pet?’

‘Nope.’

‘You know, I bet you do, if I showed you one.’

‘Yeah? What sort of pet?’

‘Foller me,’ I says.

I took him to a little stall in the barn, an there is a big ole Duroc sow, nursin half-a-dozen piglets. They is about eight weeks ole, an I had my eye on one of them in particular for a while. I figger it be the pick-of-the-litter, so to speak. It has good clear eyes an comes when you call it, an it is white with little black spots, an its ears perk up when you talk to it.

‘I call this one Wanda,’ I says, pickin it up an handin
it to little Forrest. He don’t look too happy takin it, but he does, an Wanda begun rootin an lickin him like a puppy will.

‘How come you call her Wanda?’ he says finally.

‘Oh, I dunno. I sort of named her after a ole friend of mine.’

Well, after that, little Forrest seemed happier. Not so much with me, but Wanda become his constant companion. She was ready to be weaned anyhow, an Mister McGivver says it is okay with him, if it makes the boy happy.

One day it is time to truck some hogs up to Wheeling for the auction. Little Forrest helped me load them in the truck, an we set off early in the morning. Took half a day to get there, an then we got to come back for another load.

‘How come you always drivin all those hogs up to Wheeling in this old truck?’ he ast, which is probly the longest words he has had for me so far.

‘Cause we gotta get em there, I guess. Mister McGivver’s been doin it for years.’

‘Well, don’t you know there’s a railroad runs right through Coalville? Goes up to Wheeling, cause it said so when I rode in here on it. Why don’t you just put the hogs on the railroad an let them take em up?’

‘I dunno,’ I says. ‘Why?’

‘Because you’d save time, for cryin out loud!’ He looks very exasperated at me.

‘What’s time to a hog?’ I ast.

Little Forrest just shakes his head an looks out the winder. I guess he is now figgered out that he has got a pea brain for a daddy.

‘Well,’ I says, ‘maybe that is a good idea. I’ll talk to Mister McGivver about it in the mornin.’

But little Forrest ain’t impressed. He just settin there with Wanda in his lap. Lookin kinda scared an alone.

‘Fantastic!’ shouts Mister McGivver. ‘Trains to carry the hogs to auction! It’ll save us thousands! Why in hell didn’t I think of that!’