Now the Pygmie Threat was one of Big Sam’s specialties, an he had taught it to me real good. It depends a lot on suprise an usin several other pieces as bait, but if a feller falls victim to The Pygmie Threat, he might as well hang up his jockstrap an go on home. I was hopin an prayin it woud work, cause if it didn’t, I ain’t got no more bright ideas an I’m just about done for already.
Well, Honest Ivan, he grunt a couple of times an pick up his knight to move it to square eight, which meant that he would be suckered in by The Pygmie Threat an in two more moves I would have him in check an he would be powerless to do anythin about it!
But Honest Ivan must of smelt somethin fishy, cause he moved that piece from square five to square eight an back again nine or ten times, never takin his han off it, which would have meant the move was final.
The crowd was so quiet you coulda heard a pin drop, an I am so nervous an excited I am bout to bust. I look over an Mister Tribble is rollin his eyes up in the air like he’s prayin an a feller what come with Honest Ivan is scowlin an lookin sour. Honest Ivan move the piece back to square eight two or three more times, but always he put it back on square five. Finally, it look like he gonna do somethin else, but then he lif up the piece one more time an have it hoverin above square eight an I be holdin my breath an the room is quiet as a tomb. Honest Ivan still be hoverin with the piece an my heart is beatin like a drum, an all of a sudden he look straight at me—an I don’t know what happened, I guess I was so excited an all—but suddenly I cut a humongus baked-bean fart that sound like somebody is rippin a bedsheet in haf!
Honest Ivan get a look of suprise on his face, an then he suddenly drop his chess piece an thowed up his hans an say, “Uggh!” an start fannin the air an coughin an holdin his nose. Folks standin aroun us begun to move back an was mumblin an takin out they handkerchiefs an all, an I am so red in the face I look like a tomato.
But when it all settle down again, I look at the chessboard an damn if Honest Ivan ain’t lef his piece right on square eight. So I reached out an snap it up with my knight, an then I grapped two of his pawns an his queen an finally his king—checkmate! I done won the match an the five thousan dollars! The Pygmie Threat done come thru again.
All the wile, Honest Ivan be makin loud gestures an protestin an all an him an the feller that come with him immediately file a formal complaint against me.
The guy in charge of the tournament be thumbin thru his rule book till he come to where it say, “No player shall knowingly engage in conduct that is distractive to another player while a game is in progress.”
Mister Tribble step up an say, “Well, I don’t think you can prove that my man did what he did
Then the tournament director thumb thru his book some more, an come to where it say, “No player shall behave in a manner that is rude or offensive to his opponent.”
“Listen,” Mister Tribble say, “haven’t you ever had the need to break wind? Forrest didn’t mean anything by it. He’s been sitting there a long time.”
“I don’t know,” the tournament director say, “on the face of it, I think I’m going to have to disqualify him.”
“Well can’t you give him another chance at least?”
Mister Tribble axed. The tournament director scratched his chin for a minute. “Well, perhaps,” he say, “but he is gonna have to contain hissef because we cannot tolerate this sort of thing here, you know?”
An so it was beginnin to look like I might be allowed to finish the game, but all of a sudden they is a big commotion at one end of the room, an ladies are screaming an shrieking an all an then I look up an here come ole Sue, swingin towards me on a chandelier.
Jus as the chandelier got overhead Sue let go an dropped right on top of the chessboard, scatterin all the pieces in a dozen directions. Honest Ivan fell over backwards across a chair an on the way down ripped haf the dress off a fat lady that looked like a advertisement for a jewelry store. She commenced to flailin an hollerin an smacked the tournament director in the nose an Sue was jumpin up an down an chatterin an everbody is in a panic, stompin an stumblin an shoutin to call the police.
Mister Tribble grapped me by the arm an say, “Let’s get out of here, Forrest—you have already seen enough of the police in this town.”
This I coud not deny.
Well, we get on back to the hotel, an Mister Tribble say we got to have another conference.
“Forrest,” he say, “I just do not believe this is going to work out anymore. You can play chess like a dream, but things have gotten too complicated otherwise. All that stuff that went on this afternoon was, well, to put it mildly, it was bizarre.”
I am noddin an ole Sue is lookin pretty sorrowful too.
“So, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. You’re a good boy, Forrest, and I can’t leave you stranded out here in California, so I am going to arrange for you and Sue to get back to Alabama or wherever it is you came from. I know you need a little grubstake to start your shrimp business, and your share of the winnings, after I deduct expenses, comes to a little under five thousand dollars.”
Mister Tribble hand me a envelope an when I look inside it, there is a bunch of hundrit dollar bills. “I wish you all the best in your venture,” he say. Mister Tribble phone for a taxicab an got us to the railroad station. He has also arranged for Sue to ride in the baggage car in a crate, and says I can go back there an visit with him an take him food an water when I want. They brung out the crate an Sue got on inside it an they took him off.
“Well, good luck, Forrest,” Mister Tribble say, an he shake my han. “Here’s my card—so stay in touch and let me know how it’s going, okay?”
I took the card an shook his han again an was sorry to be leavin cause Mister Tribble was a very nice man, an I had let him down. I was settin in my seat on the train, lookin out the winder, an Mister Tribble was still standin on the platform. Jus as the train pulled out, he raised up his han at me an waved goodbye.
So off I went again, an for a long time that night my head was full of dreams—of going back home again, of my mama, of po ole Bubba an of the srimp bidness an, of course, of Jenny Curran too. More than anythin in the world, I wished I were not such a loony tune.
24
Well, finally, i done come home again.
The train got into the Mobile station bout three o’clock in the mornin an they took off ole Sue in his crate an lef us standin on the platform. Ain’t nobody else aroun cept some feller sweepin the floor an a guy snoozin on a bench in the depot, so Sue an me walked on downtown an finally foun a place to sleep in a abandoned buildin.
Nex mornin, I got Sue some bananas down by the wharf an found a little lunch counter where I bought a great big breakfast with grits an eggs an bacon an pancakes an all, an then I figgered I had to do
When I got to the po house, I tole Sue to wait in the yard so as not to startle them sisters none, an I went in an axed about my mama.
The head sister, she was real nice, an she say she don’t know where Mama is, cept she went off with the protestant, but that I might try axin aroun in the park cause mama use to go an set there in the afternoons with some other ladies. So I got Sue an we gone on over there.
They was some ladies settin on the benches an I went up an tole one of them who I was, an she looked at ole Sue, an say, “I reckon I might of guess it.”
But then she say she has heard that Mama was workin as a pants presser in a dry cleanin store on the other side of town, an so me an Sue went over there an sho enough, there is po ole Mama, sweatin over a pair of pants in the laundry.
When she seen me, Mama drop everthin an thowed hersef into my arms. She is cryin an twistin her hans an snifflin just like I remembered. Good ole Mama.
“Oh, Forrest,” she say. “You have come home at last. There wadn’t a day gone by I didn’t think bout you,
