"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 that 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 that 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.
Chapter 13
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."
"Aw, 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 wearin a earrin 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 ditchdigger or somethin. But even that was a hard card to play. Seems they weren't no big market for ditchdiggin 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.