Gump and Co. (Page 29)

"Ya know, Forrest, there’s one thing I’d have given a lot of money to see," he says, "that is, if I’d had any."

"What’s that?"

"The expressions on those bozos’ faces when the pig shit blew up."

"Yessir," I says, "it was kinda a sight."

"By the way," Mister McGivver says, "what ever happened to that sow I gave little Forrest – what’d you call her?"

"Wanda."

"Yeah, she was a nice pig. Smart pig."

"She’s at the National Zoo in Washington."

"Really? Doing what?"

"In a cage. They are showin her off."

"Well, I’ll be damned," he says. "A monument to all our folly."

After a little while, it become apparent to me that Mister McGivver is drunk again. In fact, he is not only drunk, he is reelin. At one point he reeled over to the ship control panels an begun turnin on switches an pullin levers an knobs. Suddenly, the Exxon-Valdez begun to shudder an tremble. Somehow, Mister McGivver had turned on the engine.

"Wanna go for a little spin?" he ast.

"Well, ah, thanks," I says, "but I gotta get back to the weather station. I’m on duty in a hour or so."

"Nonsense!" says Mister McGivver. "This won’t take but a few minutes. We’ll just go out in the sound for a little spin."

By now, he is lurchin an stumblin an tryin to put the Exxon-Valdez in gear. He grapped hold of the wheel an when it begin to turn he follered with it – right down onto the floor. Then he begun to jabber.

"Hoot, mon!" Mister McGivver shouts. "I think I’m about four sheets to the wind! Arrr, me buckoes, we be forty leagues from Portobello! Run out the guns! You’ve a bit of the animal in you, young Jim – Long John Silver’s my name – What’s yours…?"

Shit like that. Anyhow, I got ole Mister McGivver up off the floor, an about that time a sailor come onto the bridge, must of heard the commotion.

"I think Mister McGivver’s had one too many," I says. "Maybe we oughta take him to his cabin."

"Yeah," say the sailor, "but I seen him a lot drunker."

"It’s the Black Spot for you, laddie buck!" shouts Mister McGivver. "Old Blind Pew knows the score. Hoist up the Jolly Roger! You’ll all walk the plank!"

Me an the sailor carried Mister McGivver to his bunk an laid him down. "I’ll keelhaul the lot of you" is the last thing Mister McGivver says.

"Say," the sailor ast, "you know why Captain McGivver turned on the engines?"

"Nope – I don’t know nothin. I’m with the weather station."

"What!" says the sailor. "Hell, I thought you were the bar pilot!"

"Me, no. I am a private in the army."

"Greatgodamighty!" he says. "We got ten million gallons of crude oil on board!" An he runs out the door.

It was apparent I could not do nothin for Mister McGivver, account of he is asleep – if that’s what you want to call it. So I gone on back to the bridge. Nobody is there an the ship seems to be sailin along, buoy markers an things be passin us at top speed. I didn’t know what else to do, so I grapped the ship’s wheel an tried to steer us at least in a straight direction. We had not gone too far when suddenly there is a great big bump. I am figgerin this is good, since the Exxon-Valdez has finally stopped. Turns out, though, it is not.

All of a sudden, it seems like there is about a hundrit people runnin around on the bridge, everbody hollerin an screamin an givin each other orders, an some of them even be givin each other the finger. Not long afterward, some fellers from the Coast Guard come aboard, complainin we has just dumped ten million gallons of crude awl into Prince William Sound. Birds, seals, fish, polar bears, whales, an Exkimos – all will be destroyed by what we has now done. An there is gonna be hell to pay.

"Who was in charge on this bridge?" says a Coast Guard officer.

"He was!" everbody on the bridge shouted at once, all pointin they fingers right at me.

I knowed right then that I am in the doghouse for sure.

Maniac Army Man at Helm of Disaster Ship, says one of the headlines. Certified Nut Driving Oil Spill Boat, says another. Cataclysm Caused by Dangerous Fool; this is typical of the kind of shit I got to endure.

In any case, they sent up a three-star general from Washington to deal with me an my problems. In a way this is sort of lucky, since the army does not wish to get involved in any sense with the blame for the Exxon-Valdez mess, an the best thing they can do is get me the hell out of there – quick.

"Gump," the general says, "if it was up to me, I would have you before a firing squad for this, but since it isn’t, I am gonna do the next best thing, which is to have your big stupid ass transferred as far away from here as possible, which, in this case, is to Berlin, Germany. Maybe, if we are lucky, nobody is gonna be able to find you there, and so they’ll have to put all the blame on old Captain McGivver for this disaster. Do you read me?"

"Yessir," I says, "but how I’m gonna get there?"

"The plane, Gump, is on the runway. Its motors are running. You got five minutes."

Chapter 10

Goin to Germany was not all it was cracked up to be. This was account of I was escorted there in handcuffs an leg irons by four MPs who kept remindin me that their orders was, if I done anythin funny, they was to immediately crack me over the head with their nightsticks.

Somebody high up in command had apparently give the order that I was to be assigned the dirtiest job in the entire army, an the order was faithfully carried out. I was sent to a tank company, where my duty was to clean all the mud off the tank treads – an let me say this: There is plenty of mud on the tank tracks in Germany in the winter.

Also, word had apparently got out that I am a Jonah or somethin, cause ain’t nobody wants to speak to me except the sergeants, an all they do is holler at me. The days are cold an wet, an the nights are miserable, an I ain’t never felt so lonely. I wrote some letters to little Forrest, but his answers are kind of short an I get the impression maybe he is sort of forgettin me. Sometimes at night, I tried to dream about Jenny but it ain’t no use. Looks like she done forgot about me, too.

One day somebody tole me I am getting a helper to clean the tank treads an I gotta show him the ropes. I gone on out to the motor pool an they is a feller standin there starin down at a tread got about a hundrit pounds of mud on it.

"Say, you the new guy?" I ast.

When he turn around, I almost fainted dead away! It is ole Sergeant Kranz from Vietnam an the army base where me an Mister McGivver collected the garbage for our pigs! Cept I noticed right away, Sergeant Kranz, he ain’t a sergeant major no more – he is only a buck private.

"Oh, no" is the first thing out of his mouth when he sees me.

It seems that Sergeant Kranz blames me for the misfortune of being busted from sergeant-major to private, though even a moron like me can see he is stretchin things a bit.

What had happened was this: After me an Mister McGivver got out of the pig bidness, Sergeant Kranz decided that the army could actually sell their garbage to pig farmers all over the area, an after a while they had so much money they didn’t know what to do with it. So he suggested they use it to build a new officers’ club, an the general was so pleased with this he put Sergeant Kranz in charge of buildin the new club.

On the day of the grand openin, they had a big celebration, with bands an free drinks an all, an to cap it off at the end of the evenin, they had hired a striptease dancer all the way from Australia to do her thing on the stage. Said she was not only the best stripper in Australia, she was the best stripper in the world.

Anyhow, the officers’ club was mobbed so’s you could barely see the stripper, an at some point the general hissef got up on a table in the back of the room to get a better look. However, it seems Sergeant Kranz has installed the ceilin fans about a foot lower than normal, an when the general stands up on the table, it got him in the head. Scalped him, just like a Indian might do.

The general was furious, hollerin an yellin about "How am I gonna explain this to my wife?" An, of course, he blames Sergeant Kranz an has him busted on the spot an sent here, to the dirtiest job in the army.

"I was one of the first black soldiers to make it to the top of the enlisted ranks in this man’s army," he says, "but it seems like ever time I get around you, Gump, there is some kind of shit fixin to go on."