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Forrest Gump (¹1) - Forrest Gump

ModernLib.Net / Ñîâðåìåííàÿ ïðîçà / Groom Winston / Forrest Gump - ×òåíèå (ñòð. 11)
Àâòîð: Groom Winston
Æàíð: Ñîâðåìåííàÿ ïðîçà
Ñåðèÿ: Forrest Gump

 

 


“Well, you could squeeze it in, couldn’t you? After all, it might be the break you’ve been looking for. Why don’t you come along, too, Tribble, we’ll give you a screen test as well.”

“We’ll try,” Mister Tribble say. “Now come along, Forrest, we have a little more work to do.”

“See you later, baby,” say Mister Felder, “don’t forget now.”

An off we go.

22

The nex mornin is when the chess tournament is bein helt out at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Me an Mister Tribble is there early an he has me signed up for matches all day.

Basically, it ain’t no big deal. It took me about seven minutes to whup the first guy, who was a regional master an also a professor in some college, which made me secretly feel kind of good. I had beat a professor after all.

Nex was a kid about seventeen, an I wiped him out in less than half a hour. He thowed a tantrum an then commenced to bawlin an cryin an his mama had to come drag him off.

They was all sorts of people I played that day an the nex, but I beat em all pretty fast, which was a relief since when I played against Big Sam I had to keep settin there an not go to the bathroom or nothin, cause if I got up from the chessboard he would move the pieces aroun an try to cheat.

Anyhow, by that time I had got my way into the finals an they was a day’s rest in between. I gone on back to the hotel with Mister Tribble an found a message to us from Mister Felder, the movie guy. It say, “Please call my office this afternoon an arrange for a screen test tomorrow morning,” an it give a telephone number to call.

“Well, Forrest,” Mister Tribble say, “I don’t know bout this. What do you think?”

“I dunno either,” I says, but to tell the truth, it soun sort of excitin, bein in the movies an all. Maybe I even get to meet Raquel Welch or somebody.

“Oh, I don’t suppose it would hurt anything,” Mister Tribble say. “I guess I’ll call an set up an appointment.” So he call Mister Felder’s office an be findin out when an where for us to go an all of a sudden he cup his hand over the phone an say to me, “Forrest, can you swim?” An I say, “Yup,” an he say back into the phone, “Yes, he can.”

After he done hung up, I axed why they want to know if I can swim, an Mister Tribble say he don’t know, but he recon we will find out when we get there.


The movie lot we gone to is a different place than the other one, an we was met at the gate by a guard that took us to where the screen test is bein helt. Mister Felder is there arguin with a lady that actually look somethin like Raquel Welch, but when he seen me, he is all smiles.

“Ah, Forrest,” he say, “terrific you came. Now what I want you to do is go thru that door to Makeup and Costuming, and then they will send you back out when they are finished.”

So I gone on thru the door an there is a couple of ladies standin there an one of em say, “Okay, take off your clothes.” Here I go again, but I do as I am tole. When I get thru takin off my clothes, the other lady han me this big blob of rubber-lookin clothes with scales an shit all over it an funny-lookin webbed feet an hans. She say to put it on. It take the three of us to get me in the thing but after bout a hour we manage. Then they point me in the direction of Makeup an I is tole to set in a chair wile a lady an a feller commence to jam down this big rubber mask over my head an fit it to the costume an start paintin over the lines where it showed. When they is thru, they say for me to go back out to the movie set.

I can hardly walk on account of the webbed feet an it is hard to get the door open with a webbed han, but finally I do an I suddenly find myself in a outdoor place with a big lake an all sorts of banana trees an tropical-lookin shit. Mister Felder is there an when he seen me, he jump back an say, “Terrific, baby! You is perfect for the part!”

“What part is that?” I axed, an he say, “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I am doing a remake of The Creature from the Black Lagoon.” Even a idiot like me could guess what part he have in mind for me to play.

Mister Felder motion for the lady he had been arguin with to come over. “Forrest,” he say, “I want you to meet Raquel Welch.”

Well, you coudda knocked me over with a feather! There she were, all dressed up in a low-cut gown an all. “Please to meet you,” I says thru the mask, but Raquel Welch turn to Mister Felder lookin mad as a hornet.

“What’d he say? Something about my tits, wasn’t it!”

“No, baby, no,” say Mister Felder. “He just said he was glad to meet you. You can’t hear him too well because of that mask he’s got on.”

I stuck out my webbed han to shake hans with her, but she jump back about a foot, an say, “Uggh! Let’s get this goddamn thing over with.”

Anyhow, Mister Felder say the deal is this: Raquel Welch is to be flounderin in the water an then she faints, an then I am to come up from under her an pick her up an carry her outta the water. But when she revives, she looks up at me an is scared an commences to scream, “Put me down! Help! Rape!” an all that shit.

But, Mister Felder say, I am not to put her down, cause some crooks is sposed to be chasin us; instead, I am to carry her off into the jungle.

Well, we tried the scene, an the first time we done it, I thought it come off pretty well, an it is really excitin to actually be holdin Raquel Welch in my arms, even tho she be hollerin, “Put me down! Help, police!” an so on.

But Mister Felder say that ain’t good enough, an for us to do it again. An that wadn’t good enough either, so we be doin that same scene bout ten or fifteen times. In between doin the scene, Raquel Welch is crabbin an bitchin an cussin at Mister Felder, but he just kep on sayin, “Beautiful, baby, beautiful!” an that sort of thing.

Mysef, I’m startin to have a real problem tho. On account of I been in the creature suit nearly five hours now, an they ain’t no zipper or nothin to pee thru, an I’m bout to bust. But I don’t wanta say nothin bout that, cause this is a real movie an everthin, an I don’t want to make nobody mad.

But I gotta do somethin, so’s I decide that the nex time I get in the water, I will jus pee in the suit, an it will run out my leg or somethin into the lagoon. Well, Mister Felder, he say, “Action!” an I go in the water an start to pee. Raquel Welch be flounderin aroun an then she faints, an I dive under an grap her an haul her onto shore.

She wakes up an start to beatin on me an hollerin, “Help! Murder! Put me down!” an all, but then she suddenly stop hollerin an she say, “What is that smell?”

Mister Felder holler, “Cut!” an he stand up an say, “What was that you said, baby? That ain’t in the script.”

An Raquel Welch say, “Shit on the script! Somethin stinks aroun here!” Then she suddenly look at me an say, “Hey, you—whoever you are—did you take a leak?”

I was so embarrassed, I did not know what to do. I just stood there for a secont, holdin her in my arms, an then I shake my head an say, “Uh uh.”

It was the first lie I ever tole in my life.

“Well somebody sure did,” she say, “cause I know pee when I smell it! An it wadn’t me! So it has to be you! How dare you pee on me, you big oaf!” Then she start beatin on me with her fists an hollerin to “Put me down!” and “Get away from me!” an all, but I jus figgered the scene is startin up again an so I begun to carry her back into the jungle.

Mister Felder shout, “Action! ” The movie cameras begun to rollin once more, an Raquel Welch is beatin an clawin an yellin like she never done before. Mister Felder is back there hollerin, “That’s it, baby—terrific! Keep it up!” I coud see Mister Tribble back there too, settin in a chair, kinda shakin his head an tryin to look the other way.

Well, when I get back in the jungle a little ways, I stopped an turned aroun to see if that’s where Mister Felder is fixin to yell “Cut,” like he had before, but he was jumpin aroun like a wild man, motionin to keep on goin, an shoutin, “Perfect, baby! That’s what I want! Carry her off into the jungle!”

Raquel Welch is still scratchin an flailin at me an screamin, “Get away from me you vulgar animal!” an such as that, but I kep on goin like I’m tole.

All of a sudden she screech, “Oh my god! My dress!”

I ain’t noticed it till now, but when I look down, damn if her dress ain’t caught on some bush back there an done totally unravel itself, Raquel Welch is butt neckid in my arms!

I stopped an said, “Uh oh,” an started to turn aroun to carry her back, but she begin shriekin, “No, no! You idiot! I can’t go back there like this!”

I axed what she wanted me to do, an she say we gotta find someplace to hide till she gets things figgered out. So I keep on goin deeper into the jungle when all of a sudden out of noplace come a big object thru the trees, swingin towards us on a vine. The object swung past us once an I could tell it was a ape of some sort, an then it swung back again an dropped off the vine at our feet. I almost fainted dead away. It was ole Sue, hissef!


Raquel Welch begun to bawlin an hollerin again an Sue has grapped me aroun the legs an is huggin me. I don’t know how he recognized me in my creature suit, cept I guess he smelt me or somethin. Anyhow, Raquel Welch, she finally say, “Do you know this fucking baboon?”

“He ain’t no baboon,” I says, “he’s a orangutang. Name’s Sue.”

She look at me kinda funny an say, “Well if it’s a he, then how come its name is Sue?”

“That is a long story,” I say.

Anyhow, Raquel Welch is tryin to cover hersef up with her hans, but ole Sue, he knows what to do. He grapped holt of a couple of big leaves off one of them banana trees an han them up to her an she partly covered hersef up.

What I find out later is that we have gone across our jungle location onto another set where they is filmin a Tarzan movie, an Sue is being used as a extra. Not long after I got rescued from the pygmies in New Guinea, white hunters come along an captured ole Sue an shipped his ass to some animal trainer in Los Angeles. They been usin him in movies ever since.

Anyway, we ain’t got time to jack aroun now, on account of Raquel Welch is screechin an bitchin again, say, “You gotta take me someplace where I can get me some clothes!” Well, I don’t know where you can find no clothes in the jungle, even if it is a movie set, so we jus keep movin along, hopin somethin will happen.

It does. We suddenly come to a big fence, an I figger there probly be someplace on the other side of it to get her some clothes. Sue finds a loose board in the fence an lifts it up so’s we can get thru, but as soon as I step on the other side, ain’t nothin to step on, an me an Raquel go tumblin head over heels down the side of this hill. We finally rolled all the way to the bottom an when I look aroun, damn if we ain’t landed right on the side of a big ole road.

“Oh my God!” Raquel Welch yell. “We’re on the Santa Monica Freeway!”

I look up, an here come ole Sue, lopin down the hillside. He finally get down to us, an the three of us be standin there. Raquel Welch is movin the banana leaves up an down, tryin to cover hersef up.

“What we gonna do now?” I axed. Cars are wizzin by, an even tho we must of been a odd-lookin sight, ain’t nobody even payin us the slightest attention.

“You gotta take me someplace!” she hollers. “I got to get some clothes on!”

“Where?” I says.

“Anywhere!” she screams, an so we started off down the Santa Monica Freeway.

After a wile, up in the distance, we seen a big white sign up in some hills say “HOLLYWOOD,” an Raquel Welch say, “We got to get off this damn freeway and get to Rodeo Drive, where I can buy me some clothes.” She is keepin pretty busy tryin to cover hersef up—ever time a car come towards us, she put the banana leaves in front, an when a car come up from behin, she move em back there to cover her ass. In mixed traffic, it is quite a spectacular sight—look like one of them fan dancers or somethin.

So we got off the freeway an went across a big field. “Has that fuckin monkey got to keep followin us?” Raquel Welch say. “We look rediculous enough as it is!” I ain’t sayin nothin, but I look back, an ole Sue, he got a pained look on his face. He ain’t never met Raquel Welch before, neither, an I think his feelins is hurt.

Anyhow, we kep goin along an they still ain’t nobody payin us much mind. Finally we come to a big ole busy street an Raquel Welch say, “Goodgodamighty—this is Sunset Boulevard! How am I gonna explain goin across Sunset Boulevard butt neckid in broad daylight!” In this, I tend to see her point, an I am sort of glad I got on the creature suit so’s nobody will recognize me—even if I am with Raquel Welch.

We come to a traffic light an when it turn green, the three of us walked on across the street, Raquel Welch doin her fan dance to beat the band an smilin at people in cars an stuff like she was on stage. “I am totally humiliated!” she hisses at me under her breath. “I am violated! Just wait till we get outta this. I am gonna have your big ass, you goddamn idiot!”

Some of the people waitin in their cars at the traffic light commence to honkin they horns and wavin, on account of they must of recognized Raquel Welch, an when we get across the street, a few cars turn our way an start to followin after us. By the time we get to Wilshire Boulevard we have attracted quite a sizable crowd; people come out of they houses an stores an all to follow us—look like the Pied Piper or somethin—an Raquel Welch’s face is red as a beet.

“You’ll never work in this town again!” she say to me, flashin a smile to the crowd, but her teeth is clenched tight.

We gone on a bit further, an then she say, “Ah—finally—here is Rodeo Drive.” I look over at a corner an, sure enough, there is a woman’s clothing store. I tap her on the shoulder an point at it, but Raquel Welch say, “Uggh—that’s Popagallo. Nobody would be caught dead these days wearing a Popagallo dress.”

So we walked some more an then she say, “There—Giani’s—they got some nice things in there,” an so we go inside.

They is a sales feller at the door with a little moustache an a white suit with a handkerchief stickin out of the coat pocket, an he is eyein us pretty carefully as we come thru the door.

“May I help you, madam?” he axed.

“I want to buy a dress,” Raquel Welch say.

“What did you have in mind?” say the feller.

“Anything, you fool—can’t you see what’s going on!”

Well, the sales feller point to a couple of racks of dresses an say there might be somethin in there her size, so Raquel Welch go over an begin to look thru the dresses.

“An is there somethin I can do for you gentlemen?” the feller says to me an Sue.

“We is just with her,” I say. I look back, an the crowd is all gathered outside, noses pressed to the winder.

Raquel Welch took about eight or nine dresses into the back an tried them on. After a wile she come out an say, “What do you think about this one?” It is a sort of brown-lookin dress with a bunch of belts an loops all over it an a low neckline.

“Oh, I’m not so sure, dear,” say the salesman, “somehow it—it just isn’t you.” So she go back an try on another one an the salesman say, “Oh, wonderful! You look absolutely precious.”

“I’ll take it,” say Raquel Welch, an the salesman say, “Fine—how would you like to pay for it?”

“What do you mean?” she axed.

“Well, cash, check, credit card?” he say.

“Look you bozo—can’t you see I don’t have anything like that with me? Where the hell do you think I’d put it?”

“Please, madam—don’t let’s be vulgar,” the salesman say.

“I am Raquel Welch,” she tell the man. “I will send somebody around here to pay you later.”

“I am terribly sorry, lady,” he say, “but we don’t do business that way.”

“But I’m Raquel Welch! ” she shout. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“Listen lady,” the man say, “half the people that come in here say they are Raquel Welch or Farrah Fawcett or Sophia Loren or somebody. You got any ID?”

“ID!” she shout. “Where do you think I would keep ID?”

“No ID, no credit card, no money—no dress,” say the salesman.

“I’ll prove who the hell I am,” Raquel Welch say, an all of a sudden she pull down the top of the dress. “Who else is got tits like these in this one-horse town!” she screech. Outside, the crowd all be beatin on the winders an hollerin an cheerin. But the salesman, he punched a little button an some big guy what was the security detective come over an he say, “Okay, your asses is all under arrest. Come along quietly an there won’t be no trouble.”

23

So here I am, thowed in jail again.

After the security feller corralled us at Giani’s, two carloads of cops come screamin up an this one cop come up to the salesman an say, “Well, what we got here?”

“This one says she’s Raquel Welch,” the salesman say. “Come in here wearin a bunch of banana leaves an wouldn’t pay for the dress. I don’t know bout these other two—but they look pretty suspicious to me.”

“I am Raquel Welch!” she shout.

“Sure, lady,” the cop say. “An I am Clint Eastwood. Why don’t you go along with these two nice fellers here.” He point to a couple of other cops.

“Now,” says the head cop, an he be lookin at me an Sue, “what’s your story?”

“We was in a pitcher,” I says.

“That why you’re wearin that creature suit?” he axe.

“Yup,” I says.

“An what bout him?” he say, pointin to Sue. “That’s a pretty realistic costume, if I say so myself.”

“Ain’t no costume,” I says. “He’s a purebread orangutang.”

“Is that so?” the cop say. “Well I’ll tell you what. We got a feller down to the station who makes pitchers, too, an he would love to get a couple of shots of you clowns. So you jus come along too—an don’t make no sudden moves.”

Anyhow, Mister Tribble has got to come down an bail me out again. An Mister Felder showed up with a whole platoon of lawyers to git out Raquel Welch, who by this time is hysterical.

“You jus wait!” she shriek back at me as they turnin her loose. “When I git finished, you won’t be able to find a job as a spear carrier in a nightmare!”

In this, she is probly correct. It look like my movie career is over.

“That’s life, baby—but I’ll call you for lunch sometime,” Mister Felder says to me as he is leavin. “We’ll send somebody by later to pick up the creature suit.”

“C’mon, Forrest,” say Mister Tribble. “You and I have got other fish to fry.”


Back at the hotel, Mister Tribble an me an Sue is settin in our room havin a conference.

“It is going to pose a problem, with Sue here,” Mister Tribble says. “I mean, look how we had to sneak him up the stairs and everthin. It is very difficult to travel with an orangutan, we have to face that.”

I tole him how I felt bout Sue, bout how he saved my ass more than once in the jungle an all.

“Well, I think I understand your feelings,” he says. “And I’m willing to give it a try. But he’s going to have to behave himself, or we’ll be in trouble for sure.”

“He will,” I say, an ole Sue be noddin an grinnin like a ape.

Anyhow, nex day is the big chess match between me an the International Grand Master Ivan Petrokivitch, also known as Honest Ivan. Mister Tribble have taken me to a clothes store an rented me a tuxedo on account of this is to be a big fashionable deal, an a lot of muckity-mucks will be on han. Furthermore, the winner will get ten thousan dollars, an my haf of that ought to be enough to get me started in the srimp bidness, so I cannot afford to make no mistakes.

Well, we get to the hall where the chess game is to take place an there is bout a thousan people millin aroun an already settin at the table is Honest Ivan, glarin at me like he’s Muhammad Ali or somebody.

Honest Ivan is a big ole Russian feller with a high forehead, jus like the Frankenstein monster, an long black curly hair such as you might see on a violin player. When I go up an set down, he grunt somethin at me an then another feller say, “Let the match begin,” an that was it.

Honest Ivan is got the white team an he get to make the first move, startin with somethin call The Ponziani Opening.

I move nex, using The Reti Opening, an everthin is goin pretty smooth. Each of us make a couple of more moves, then Honest Ivan try somethin known as The Falkbeer Gambit, movin his knight aroun to see if he can take my rook.

But I seed that comin, an set up somethin called The Noah’s Ark Trap, an got his knight instead. Honest Ivan ain’t lookin none too happy but he seem to take it in stride an employed The Tarrasch Threat to menace my bishop.

I ain’t havin none of that, tho, an I thowed up The Queen’s Indian Defense an that force him to use The Schevenigen Variation, which lead me to utilize The Benoni Counter.

Honest Ivan appear to be somewhat frustrated, an was twistin his fingers an bitin on his lower lip, an then he done tried a desperation move—The Fried Liver Attack—to which I applied Alekhine’s Defense an stopped his ass cold.

It look for a wile like it gonna be a stalemate, but Honest Ivan, he went an applied The Hoffman Maneuver an broke out! I look over at Mister Tribble, an he sort of smile at me, an he move his lips an mouth the word “Now,” an I knowed what he mean.

You see, they was a couple of tricks Big Sam taught me in the jungle that was not in the book an now was the time to use them—namely, The Cookin Pot Variation of The Coconut Gambit, in which I use my queen as bait an sucker that bastid into riskin his knight to take her.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Honest Ivan must of seen that comin an he snapped up my queen an now my ass is in trouble! Nex I pull somethin called The Grass Hut Ploy, in which I stick my last rook out on a limb to fool him, but he wadn’t fooled. Took my rook an my other bishop too, an was ready to finish me off with The Petroff Check, when I pulled out all the stops an set up The Pygmie Threat.

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 knowingly. It was a sort of involuntary thing.”

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 somethin to get us squared away, so I begun to walk out to where the Little Sisters of the Poor home was located. On the way, we passed by where our ole house used to be, an it wadn’t nothin lef but a field of weeds an some burnt up wood. It was a very strange feelin, seein that, an so we kep on goin.

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.


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