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Forrest Gump ( PDFDrive )

believed
that Jenny an me would
be together someday. An so when I learnt from her mama that she is
married, it was like a part of me has died an will never be again, for
gettin married is not like runnin away. Gettin married is a very serious
deal. Sometime durin the night I cried, but it did not hep much.
It was later that afternoon when I crawled out of the shrubs an gone
on back to Bayou La Batre. I didn’t tell nobody what had happened,
cause I figgered it wouldn’t of done no good. They was some work I
needed to do aroun the ponds, mendin nets an such, an I went on out by
mysef an done it. By the time I get finished it is dark, an I done made a
decision—I am gonna thow mysef into the srimp bidness an work my ass
off. It is all I can do.
An so I did.
That year we made seventy-five thousan dollars before expenses an
the bidness is gettin so big I got to hire more people to hep me run it.
One person I get is ole Snake, the quarterback from the University. He is
not too happy with his present job with the tinymight football team an
so I put him to work with Curtis in charge of dredgin an spillway duties.
Then I find out that Coach Fellers from the highschool is done retired an
so I give him a job, along with his two goons who has also retired,
workin on boats an docks.
Pretty soon the newspapers get wind of what is goin on an send a
reporter down to interview me for a sort of “local boy makes good”
story. It appears the nex Sunday, with a photo of me an Mama an Sue,
an the headline say, “Certifiable Idiot Finds Future in Novel Marine
Experiment.”


Anyhow, not too long after that, Mama say to me that we need to get
somebody to hep her with the bookkeepin part of the bidness an give
some kind of advice on financial things on account of we is makin so
much money. I done thought bout it a wile, an then I decided to get in
touch with Mister Tribble, cause he had made a bunch of money in
bidness before he retired. He was delighted I had called, he say, an will
be on the nex plane down.
A week after he gets here, Mister Tribble say we got to set down an
talk.
“Forrest,” he say, “what you have done here is nothing short of
remarkable, but you are at a point where you need to begin some serious
financial planning.”
I axed him what bout, an he say this: “Investments! Diversification!
Look, as I see it, this next fiscal year you are going to have profits at
about a hundred and ninety thousand dollars. The following year it will
bear near a quarter of a million. With such profits you must reinvest
them or the IRS will tax you into oblivion. Reinvestment is the very
heart of American business!”
An so that’s what we did.
Mister Tribble took charge of all that, an we formed a couple of
corporations. One was “Gump’s Shellfish Company.” Another was called
“Sue’s Stuffed Crabs, Inc.,” an another was “Mama’s Crawfish Étouffée,
Ltd.”
Well, the quarter of a million become haf a million an the year
followin that, a million, an so on, till after four more years we done
become a five million dollar a year bidness. We got nearly three hundred
employees now, includin The Turd an The Vegetable, whose rasslin days
were over, an we got them loadin crates at the warehouse. We tried like
hell to find po Dan, but he done vanished without a trace. We did find
ole Mike, the rasslin promoter, an put him in charge of public relations
an advertisin. At Mister Tribble’s suggestion, Mike done even hired
Raquel Welch to do some television ads for us—they dressed her up to
look like a crab, an she dance aroun an say, “You ain’t never had crabs
till you try Sue’s!”
Anyhow, things has gotten real big-time. We got a fleet of refrigerator
trucks an a fleet of srimp, oyster an fishin boats. We got our own packin
house, an a office buildin, an have invested heavily in real estate such as


condominiums an shoppin centers an in oil an gas leases. We done hired
ole Professor Quackenbush, the English teacher from up at Harvard
University, who have been fired from his job for molestin a student, an
made him a cook in Mama’s étouffée operation. We also hired Colonel
Gooch, who got drummed out of the Army after my Medal of Honor
tour. Mister Tribble put him in charge of “covert activities.”
Mama has gone an had us a big ole house built cause she say it ain’t
right for a corporate executive like me to be livin in no shack. Mama say
Sue can stay on in the shack an keep an eye on things. Ever day now, I
got to wear a suit an carry a briefcase like a lawyer. I got to go to
meetins all the time an listen to a bunch of shit that sound like pygmie
talk, an people be callin me “Mister Gump,” an all. In Mobile, they done
give me the keys to the city an axed me to be on the board of directors
of the hospital an the symphony orchestra.
An then one day some people come by the office an say they want to
run me for the United States Senate.
“You’re an absolute natural,” this one feller say. He is wearing a
searsucker suit an smokin a big cigar. “A former star football player for
Bear Bryant, a war hero, a famous astronaut and the confidant of
Presidents—what more can you ask?!” he axe. Mister Claxton is his
name.
“Look,” I tell him, “I am just a idiot. I don’t know nothin bout
politics.”
“Then you will fit in perfectly!” Mister Claxton say. “Listen, we need
good men like you. Salt of the earth, I tell you! Salt of the earth!”
I did not like this idea any more than I like a lot of the other ideas
people have for me, on account of other people’s ideas are usually what
get me into trouble. But sure enough, when I tole my mama, she get all
teary-eyed an proud an say it would be the answer to all her dreams to
see her boy be a United States Senator.
Well, the day come when we is to announce my candidacy. Mister
Claxton an them others hired the auditorium up in Mobile an hauled me
out on the stage in front of a crowd that paid fifty cents apiece to come
listen to my shit. They begin with a lot of long-winded speeches an then
it come my turn.
“My feller Americans,” I begin. Mister Claxton an the others have writ
me a speech to give an later they will be questions from the audience. Tv


cameras are rollin an flashbulbs are poppin an reporters are scribblin in
their notebooks. I read the whole speech, which ain’t very long an don’t
make much sense—but what do I know? I am jus a idiot.
When I am finished talkin, a lady from the newspaper stand up an
look at her notepad.
“We are currently on the brink of nuclear disaster,” she say, “the
economy is in ruins, our nation is reviled throughout the world,
lawlessness prevails in our cities, people starve of hunger every day,
religion is gone from our homes, greed and avarice is rampant
everywhere, our farmers are going broke, foreigners are invading our
country and taking our jobs, our unions are corrupt, babies are dying in
the ghettos, taxes are unfair, our schools are in chaos and famine,
pestilence and war hang over us like a cloud—in view of all this, Mister
Gump,” she axe, “what, in your mind, is the most pressing issue of the
moment?” The place was so quiet you coulda heard a pin drop.
“I got to pee,” I says.
At this, the crowd went wile! People begun hollerin an cheerin an
shoutin an wavin they hands in the air. From the back of the room
somebody started chantin an pretty soon the whole auditorium was doin
it.
“WE GOT TO PEE! WE GOT TO PEE! WE GOT TO PEE!” they was
yellin.
My mama had been settin there behind me on the stage an she got up
an come drug me away from the speaker’s stand.
“You ought to be ashamed of yoursef,” she say, “talkin like that in
public.”
“No, no!” Mister Claxton says. “It’s perfect! They love it. This will be
our campaign slogan!”
“What will?” Mama axed. Her eyes narrowed down to little beads.

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