Forrest Gump

There is a man in a business suit standing on the sidewalk with a unbrella an he is standin right in front of a big plastic garbage bag. Somebody is under the garbage bag, keepin out of the rain, an all you can see is a pair of hands reachin out from under the bag, shinin the shoes of the man in the suit. I gone acrost the street and looked closer, an lo and behol, I can just make out the little wheels of one of them dolly-wagons stickin out from under the bag too. I was so happy I could of just about bust, an I went up an thowed the garbage bag off an sure enough, it was ole Dan hissef, shinin shoes for a livin!

"Gimme that bag back you big oaf," Dan say, "I'm gettin soakin wet out here." Then he saw Sue. "So you finally got married, huh?" Dan say.

"It's a he," I tole him. "You remember—from when I went to space."

"You go

"Fuck off," Dan says, "before I chew your soles in half." The feller, he walked away.

"What you doin here, Dan?" I axed.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he say. "I've become a Communist."

"You mean like them we was fightin in the war?" I axed.

"Nah," says he, "them was gook Communists. I'm a real Communist—Marx, Le

"Then what you shinin shoes for?" I say.

"To shame the imperialist lackeys," he answers. "The way I got it figured, nobody with shined shoes is worth a shit, so the more shoes I shine, the more I'll send to hell in a handbasket."

"Well, if you say so," I says, an then Dan thowed down his rag an wheel himself back under the awnin to git outta the rain.

"Awe hell, Forrest, I ain't no damned Communist," he say. "They wouldn't want nobody like me anyhow, way I am."

"Sure they would, Dan," I says. "You always tole me I could be anythin I wanted to be an do anythin I want to do—an so can you."

"You still believin that shit?" he axed.

"I got to see Raquel Welch butt neckit," I says.

"Really?" Dan say, "what was it like?"

Well, after that, Dan an Sue an me kinda teamed up. Dan didn't want to stay in the boardin house, so he slep outside at night under his garbage bag. "Builds character," was how he put it. He tole bout what he'd been doin since he left Indianapolis. First, he'd lost all the money from the rasslin business at the dog track an what was lef he drank up. Then he got a job at a auto shop working under cars cause it was easy for him with the little dolly-wagon an all, but he said he got tired of oil an grease bein dripped on him all the time. "I may be a no-legged, no-good, drunken bum," he say, "but I ain't never been no greaseball."

Nex, he gone back to Washington where they's havin a big dedication for some monument for us what went to the Vietnam War, an when they seen him, an foun out who he was, they axed him to make a speech. But he got good an drunk at some reception, an forgot what he was go

I tole him about playin chess with Mister Tribble an about the srimp bidness bein so successful an all, an about ru

"You think them tits of hers are real?" he axed.

We had been in Sava

"Derelicts Loitering in Public Park," says the caption.

One afternoon I'm settin there playin an thinkin maybe we outta go on up to Charleston when I notice a little boy standin right in front of the drums, jus starin at me.

I was playin "Ridin on the City of New Orleans," but the little feller kep lookin at me, not smilin or nothin, but they was somethin in his eyes that kinda shined an glowed an in a wierd way reminded me of somethin. An then I look up, an standin there at the edge of the crowd was a lady, an when I saw her, I like to fainted.

Lo an behole, it was Je

She done got her hair up in rollers an she looked a bit older, too, an sort of tired, but it is Je

Her eyes was beamin, an she say, "Oh, Forrest, I knew it was you when I heard the harmonica. Nobody plays the harmonica like you do."

"What you doin here?" I axed.

"We live here now," she say. "Donald is assistant sales manager with some people make roofin tiles. We been here bout three years now."

Cause I quit playin, the crowd done drifted off an Je

"How come you playin in a one-man band?" Je

"It's a long story," I says.

"You didn't get in trouble again, did you, Forrest?" she say.

"Nope, not this time," I says. "How bout you? You doin okay?"

"Oh, I reckon I am," she say. "I spose I got what I wanted."

"That your little boy?" I axed.

"Yep," she say, "ain't he cute?"

"Shore is—what you call him?"

"Forrest."

"Forrest?" I say. "You name him after me?"

"I ought to," she say sort of quietly. "After all, he's haf yours."

"Hafwhat!"

"He's your son, Forrest."

"My what!"

"Your son. Little Forrest." I looked over an there he was, gigglin an clappin cause Sue was now doin han-stands.

"I guess I should of tole you," Je

"You mean, was he go

"Yeah, sort of," she say. "But look, Forrest, can't you see! He ain't no idiot at all! He's smart as a whip—go

"You sure he's mine?" I axed.

"Ain't no question of it," she say. "He wants to be a football player when he grows up—or a astronaut."

I look over at the little feller again an he is a strong, fine-lookin boy. His eyes is clear an he don't look like he afraid of nothin. Him an Sue is playin tic-tac-toe in the dirt.

"Well," I says, "now what about, ah, your..."

"Donald?" Je

"Coud I see him—I mean, jus for a minute or two?" I axed.

"Sure," Je

"Forrest," she says, "I want you to meet another Forrest. He's a ole friend of mine—an he is who you are named after."

The little guy come an set down by me an say, "What a fu

"That is a orangutang," I say. "His name is Sue."

"How come you call him Sue, if it's a he?"

I knowed right then that I didn't have no idiot for a son. "Your mama say you want to grow up to be a football player, or a astronaut," I says.