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 give 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, Mr. 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.”
“Aw, 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 foghorns 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 rockin 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.”
“I dunno,” I says. “It’s kinda embarrassin, you astin stuff like that.”
“It ought not to be. After all, we had our run.”
“Yeah, well, not all the way. I mean, it kinda got cut short.”
“That’ll happen. Memories are what counts in life, Forrest; when there’s nothing else left, it’ll be the memories that mean everything.”
“But, is what you’re sayin is, I won’t get to…?”
“Probly, but look, you got the rest of your life in front of you. An I think you’re okay now. I don’t know how you’re gonna do it, but would you say good-bye for me to my mama an little Forrest—just in your own special way?”
“Well, sure, but…”
“I just want you to know that I loved you, and also, Forrest, you are very fine.”
“Hey,” I says, but when I looked up, they was just the big ole bell buoy rockin back an forth in the mist. Nothin else. An so I rowed on back to shore.
So I gone back into the processin plant that afternoon. Most everbody else has went home now, an I sort of wandered around by mysef, feelin a little bit alone. In a few offices I could see lights on, people workin late, so’s we could have a successful bidness.
They was one little room in the plant that I liked. It was where we kept the pearls. It wadn’t no bigger than a closet, but inside, with some tools an other stuff, we kept a bucket. Actually, it was the workers that kept the bucket, an in the bucket was the pearls.
They weren’t much as pearls go. Japanese oysters got all the nice pearls, but ever so often our shuckers will find a ole pearl or so, usually kinda funny-shaped or ugly-colored, but by the end of the year, they would usually be enough pearls that was usable for us to sell em an get enough cash for a beer bust for the shuckin an floor crews, so that’s what we did.
But when I gone by the pearl closet, I heard a odd sound comin from it, an when I opened the door, there was Sergeant Kranz, settin on a stool, an when I looked at him, settin under a twenty-watt bulb, I could see his eyes was red.
“Why, Sergeant, what’s wrong?” I ast.
“Nothin” was what he said.
“Sergeant Kranz. I have known you for many years. I ain’t never seen you cryin before.”
“Yeah, well, you won’t again, neither. Besides, I ain’t cryin.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I am the head of this here operation, an it is my bidness to know what’s wrong with my people.”
“Since when have I become ‘your people,’ Gump?” he says.
“Since the day I met you, Sergeant.” An we kind of stared at each other for a moment, an then I seen big ole tears begun to roll down his cheeks.
“Well, damn, Gump,” he says, “I just guess I’m too ole for this shit.”
“What you mean, Sergeant Kranz?”
“It was that Smitty, an his crew,” he says.
“What happened?”
“I gone down to check on our boats, an he come after me with his gang. An when I was checkin the lines on our skiffs, he begun to pee in one of my boats, an when I said somethin, he an the others grapped me an begun beatin me with dead mullets…”
“They done what!”
“An Smitty, he called me a nigger. First time anybody ever done that to my face.”
“Issat so?” I ast.
“You heard what I said, Gump. Wadn’t nothin I could do—Hell, I’m fifty-nine years old. How I’m gonna defend mysef against eight or ten big ole white boys, ain’t half my age?”
“Well, Sergeant…”
“Well, my ass. I never thought I’d see the day I wouldn’t of fought them. But it wouldn’t of done no good. I’d of just got beat up—an that wouldn’t of mattered, either, cause of what he called me—except you tole me not to
