Gump & Co. (23 page)

‘Hurry, Dan, grap holt of my hand,’ I screamed.

‘See you around, pal,’ is all he says, an then the tank blowed up.

It blowed me in the air an singed me up a little, otherwise I was not much hurt. I couldn’t believe it, though. I got up an just stood there, watchin the tank burn up. I wanted to go back an try to get em out,
but I knew it wadn’t no good. Me an the sergeant, we waited a while, until the tank had burned itself out, an then he says, ‘Well, c’mon, Gump. We got a long walk home.’

All the way back across the desert night I felt so terrible I couldn’t even bring mysef to cry. Two of the best friends a man ever had – an now they are gone, too. It is a loneliness almost too sad to believe.

They had a little service for Lieutenant Dan an Sue at the air base where our fighter planes was. I couldn’t help but think that one of them pilots was responsible for all this, but I guess he must of felt pretty bad about it hissef. After all, we wadn’t sposed to of been out there, cept we had to return Saddamn to Baghdad.

They had a pair of flag-covered caskets lined up on the tarmac, an they shimmered in the heat of the mornin. Wadn’t anythin in em, though. Fact was, they wadn’t enough left of Dan an Sue to fill a can of beans.

Sergeant Kranz an me was in the little group, an one time he turned to me an says, ‘Ya know, Gump, them was good soldiers, them two. Even the ape. It never showed no fear.’

‘Probly too dumb to understand it,’ I says.

‘Yeah, probly. Kinda like you, huh?’

‘I spose.’

‘Well, I’m gonna miss em,’ Sergeant Kranz says. ‘We had ourselfs a helluva ride.’

‘Yup,’ I says, ‘I reckon.’

After a chaplain said a little somethin, they had a band that played taps an a rifle squad thai fired a twelve-gun salute. An then it was over.

Afterward, General Scheisskopf come up an put his arm aroun my shoulder. I guess he could see I was finally beginnin to get little bitty tears in my eyes.

‘I’m sorry about this, Private Gump,’ he says.

‘So’s everbody else,’ I tole him.

‘Look, these fellers was friends of yours, I understand. We couldn’t find any military records on them.’

‘They was volunteers,’ I said.

‘Well,’ says the general, ‘maybe you’d want to take these.’ One of his aides come up with two little cans, got tiny plastic American flags pasted on the tops.

‘Our graves registration people thought it would be appropriate,’ General Scheisskopf says.

I took the cans an thanked the general, though I don’t know what for, an then I gone on off to find my outfit. Time I got back, the company clerk was lookin for me.

‘Where you been, Gump? I got important news.’

‘It’s a long story,’ I says.

‘Well, guess what? You ain’t in the army no more.’

‘That so?’

‘Sure is. Somebody done figgered out you got a criminal record – hell, you wadn’t sposed to of ever been let in this man’s army in the first place!’

‘So what I’m sposed to do now?’ I ast.

‘Pack up your shit an get the hell out of here’ was his answer.

So that’s what I done. I found out I was due to leave on a plane that night for the States. Didn’t even have time to change my clothes. I put the little cans with Sue’s and Dan’s ashes in my pack an signed out for the last time. When I got on the plane, it was only half full. I got me a seat in the back, by mysef, cause my clothes, well, they had the stink of death on em, an I was embarrassed of the way I smelled. We was flyin high over the desert, an the moon was full an the clouds was silver all over the horizon. It was dark inside the plane an I begun to feel terribly alone an downcasted, when all of a sudden I look over at the seat across the aisle, an there is Jenny, just settin there, lookin at me! She is got a kind of sad expression on her face, too, an this time,
she don’t say nothin, but just looks at me an smiles.

I couldn’t hep it. I reached out for her, but she waved me off. But also, she stayed there in the seat across the aisle, I reckon to keep me company, all the way home.

IT WAS A
cloudy an gray day when I got back to Mobile. I gone to Mrs Curran’s house, an she was settin inside in a rockin chair, knittin a doily or somethin. She was glad to finally see me.

‘I don’t know how much longer I could of lasted,’ she said. ‘Things have been pretty hard around here.’

‘Yeah,’ I says, ‘I can imagine.’

‘Forrest,’ she says, ‘like I told you in my letter, I gotta sell the house so’s I can get into the Little Sisters of the Poor old folks home. But once I do, they’ll take care of me for good, so I will turn over the money from the house to you to help raise little Forrest.’

‘Awe, no, Mrs Curran,’ I says, ‘that’s your money – I can’t accept that.’

‘You got to, Forrest. I can’t even
get
into the Little Sisters of the Poor home unless I’m dead broke. And little Forrest is my grandson and the only family I have left. Besides, you gonna need all the money you can get. You ain’t even got a job.’

‘Well, you are right about that, I guess.’

About that time the front door opened an a big ole young man come bustin in, says, ‘Gramma, I’m home.’

I didn’t recognize him at all at first. Last time I seen him was nearly three years ago. Now he has growed up to be almost a man, fine an straight an tall. Only thing is, he is wearing a earring in his ear, which leads me to wonder what sort of underwear he has got on.

‘So, you’re back, huh?’ he says.

‘Looks that way.’

‘Yeah, for how long this time?’

‘Well,’ I says, ‘way I got it figgered, for good.’

‘What you gonna do?’ he ast.

‘That one I ain’t figgered out yet.’

‘I wouldn’t of thought so,’ he says, an gone on back to his room.

Ain’t nothin like a warm welcome home, is it?

Anyhow, next mornin I begun lookin for work. Unfortunately, it ain’t as though I have got a lot of high-end skills, an so my choices are limited. Like becomin a ditch-digger or somethin. But even that was a hard card to play. Seems they weren’t no big market for ditch-diggin at the moment, an besides, one of the bosses tole me I was too old for such work.

‘We need up-an-comin young fellers who are lookin to make a career of this – not some old fart who is just wantin enough work to buy a quart of jug wine’ was the way he put it.

After three or four days I got pretty discouraged, an after three or four weeks it become downright humiliatin. Finally I took to lyin about it to Mrs Curran an little Forrest. I tole em I done found work so’s I could support em, but the truth was, I begun usin up my separation pay from the army to pay the bills an spent my days at a soda fountain drinkin CokeCola an eatin Fritos, at least when I wadn’t out poundin the pavement for a job.

One day I figgered I’d go on down to Bayou La Batre an see if they was anythin for me there. After all, one time I’d owned the biggest bidness in that town.

What I found in Bayou la Batre was pretty depressin. The ole Gump Srimp Company was in a sorry state – buildins an wharfs all dilapidated an fallin in, winders
busted out, an the parkin lot’s growed up in weeds. It was clear that part of my life was over.

I gone down to the docks, an they is a few srimp boats tied up, but ain’t nobody hirin.

‘Srimpin’s finished down here, Gump,’ say one captain. ‘They done fished out all the srimp years ago. Now you gotta have a boat big enough to go all the way down to Mexico afore you can make a profit.’

I was about to catch the bus back up to Mobile when it occurred to me I ought to visit poor ole Bubba’s daddy. After all, I ain’t seen him in nearly ten years. I gone out to where he lived, an sure enough, the ole house was still there, an Bubba’s daddy was settin on the porch, drinkin a glass of iced tea.

‘Well, I swear,’ he said when I come walkin up. ‘I’d heard you was in jail.’

‘I might of been,’ I said. ‘I guess it depends on when you heard it.’

I ast him about the srimpin bidness an his picture was bleak as everbody else’s.

‘Nobody’s catchin em, nobody’s raisin em. Too few to catch an too cold to grow. Your operation was the heyday down here, Forrest. Ever since then, we been on hard times.’

‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that,’ I says. I set down, an Bubba’s daddy fixed me a glass of tea.

‘You ever catch up with them fellers that looted your company?’ he ast.

‘Which fellers?’

‘That Lieutenant Dan, an ole Mr Tribble – an that ape, too – what was its name?’

‘Sue,’ I says.

‘Yeah, them was the ones.’

‘Well, I don’t think Dan an Sue was to blame. Besides, I guess it don’t matter now, anyhow. They are dead.’

‘Yeah? How’d that happen?’

‘It is a long story,’ I said, an Bubba’s daddy, he didn’t pursue it no further, for which I was grateful.

‘So,’ he asts finally, ‘what you gonna do now?’

‘I dunno,’ I says, ‘but I gotta do somethin.’

‘Well,’ say Bubba’s daddy, ‘there is always oysters.’

‘Oysters?’

‘Yeah. Ain’t as profitable as srimp used to be, but there is some oyster beds still left out there. Problem is, people scared of eatin em raw these days – too much pollution or somethin. They can made you bad sick.’

‘Can a man make a living catchin oysters?’ I ast.

‘Sometimes. Depends on a lot of things. Pollution gets bad, they close down the beds. Then there is storms an hurricanes an, of course, your competition.’

‘Competition? Who is that?’

‘All them other fellers out there trying to catch oysters,’ he says. ‘They don’t take kindly to somebody new comin in here. An they is a very rough bunch, which I suppose you know.’

‘Yeah, I kinda remember em that way,’ I says. It was too true. Them oystermen was not people to fool around with, at least back in the ole days.

‘So how do I get started?’ I ast.

‘Ain’t too hard,’ say Bubba’s daddy. ‘Just get you a ole skiff an some oyster tongs. Don’t even have to buy a outboard motor if you don’t want to – you can get some oars an row, like they did when I was young.’

‘That’s all?’

‘Pretty much, I reckon. I can show you where most of the oyster beds are. Course, you’ll have to get a license from the state. That’s probly the most expensive part.’

‘You know where I can buy me a skiff?’

‘Matter of fact,’ says Bubba’s daddy, ‘I got one mysef you can use. It’s tied up behind the house. All you’ll
have to do is find some oars. Mine done broke ten or fifteen years ago.’

So that’s what I done.

Well, it seemed to me pretty ironic, me bein in the oyster bidness, after ole Lieutenant Dan was all the time talkin about gettin some good oysters to eat. Man, I wish he could be here today. He’d be in hog’s heaven!

I started out bright an early next mornin. The day before, I’d used the last of my army pay to buy the oars an get a oysterin license. I also bought a pair of coveralls an some baskets to put the oysters in. The sun was just comin up over the Mississippi Sound when I begun to row toward where Bubba’s daddy tole me some oyster beds was. What he tole me was to row out to where I could see Buoy No. 6, line it up with a water tower on shore an with the tip of Petit Bois Island to the south. When I had done this, I was to work my way toward the Lake Aux Herbes, an that’s where the oysters would be.

It took me about a hour to find Buoy No. 6, but it wadn’t no time from then that I got on the oyster beds. By lunch I had tonged up four bushel baskets of oysters, which was my limit, an so I rowed back into shore.

They was a oyster processin plant in Bayou La Batre, an I carried my oysters there to be counted an sold. Time they tally everthin up, I done made forty-two dollars an sixteen cents, which struck me as a little low for upwards of four hundrit oysters they would turn around an sell in restaurants for a dollar apiece. Unfortunately, tho, I wadn’t in no position to argue.

I was walkin down the street to catch the bus back to Mobile, the forty-two dollars an sixteen cents still warm in my pocket, when half-a-dozen fellers come aroun the corner an block my way on the sidewalk.

‘Kinda new around here, ain’t you?’ one big feller ast.

‘Sort of,’ I said. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘We hear you out there tongin up our oysters,’ another guy says.

‘Since when is they
your
oysters? I thought they was everbody’s oysters in the water.’

‘Oh, yeah? Well, they
is
everybody’s oysters – if you happen to be from here. We don’t take kindly of people who try to barge in on our bidness.’

‘Well,’ I says, ‘my name is Forrest Gump. Used to own the Gump Srimp Company. So I’m kinda from here mysef.’

‘Oh, yeah? Well, my name’s Miller. Smitty Miller. I remember your bidness. Fished us all out of srimp an put everbody out of work to boot.’

‘Look, Mr Miller,’ I says, ‘I don’t want no trouble. I got a family to look after, an I just want to tong up a few oysters an be on my way.’

‘Issat so? Well, you look here, Gump. We gonna be keepin a eye on you. We hear you was hangin aroun with that ole coon that’s son got kilt over in Vietnam.’

‘His name was Bubba. He was my friend.’

‘Yeah? Well, we don’t mix with them people down here, Gump. You gonna hang aroun in this town, you better learn the rules.’

‘Who makes the rules?’ I says.

‘We do.’

Well, that’s how it went. Smitty ain’t outright tole me to stop oysterin, but I got a feelin that trouble lay ahead. Anyhow, I gone on back home an tole Mrs Curran an little Forrest that I done got a real job, an they seemed pleased. It might even be I can earn enough to keep Mrs Curran from sellin her place an goin to the po house. It wadn’t much, but it was a start.

Anyhow, the oysterin bidness was, for now, my salvation. Ever mornin I’d ride the bus down to Bayou La Batre an tong up enough oysters to get us by another day, but what happens when the season is over or the
beds is closed by pollution, I do not know. It is very worrisome.

Second day I was there, I gone to the dock where my skiff is, an it ain’t there. I look down in the water, an it is settin on the bottom. Took me a hour to pull it on shore, an when I did, I find somebody has knocked a hole in the bottom. Took me three hours to fix the hole, an I only got enough oysters to make twenty dollars that day. I am figgerin this is some kind of message from Smitty an his friends, but I got no proof for sure.