“That’s not what I meant, you big ox! Don’t you realize what we have done is illegal! We could all go to jail! So you better keep your big mouth shut and do what I tell you, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” I says.
Anyhow, I had other shit to worry about, namely, that Colonel North had got me billeted at the marine barracks, an it was not goin too pleasant there. Marines is different from army folks. They is always goin aroun hollerin at everbody an chewin ass an makin you keep everthin clean as a whistle. The one thing it seemed they liked least was havin an army private in their barracks, an frankly, they made my life so miserable that I finally moved out. I didn’t have nowhere to go, so I gone on back to Lafayette Park to see if I could find my crate. Turned out, somebody was usin it, so I went an found me another one. An after I got things fixed up, I got the bus out to the National Zoo to see if I could find ole Wanda.
Sure enough, she was there, right next to the seals an the tiger.
They had her in a little cage with some straw an shavins on the floor, an she was lookin pretty unhappy. Sign on the cage says Swinus Americanus.
When she seen me, she recognized me immediately, an I reached out over the fence an give her a pat on the snout. She give out a big ole grunt, an I felt so sorry for her I didn’t know what to do. If I could of, I’d of busted in that cage an turned her loose. Anyhow, I went on up to the concession stand an bought some popcorn an a Twinkie, an took it back to Wanda’s cage. I almost bought her a hotdog, but thought better of it. I gave her the Twinkie an was feedin her the popcorn, when a voice behin me says:
“An just what do you think you’re doin?”
I turn aroun an it is a big ole zoo guard standin there.
“I am givin Wanda some food.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, don’t you see that sign right there, says Do Not Feed the Animals?”
“I bet it wadn’t the animals put that sign there,” I says.
“Oh, a smartass, huh?” he say, an grapped me by the collar. “Let’s see how funny you are in the lockup.”
Well, frankly, I have had enough of this shit. I mean, I am feelin so low I almost got to look up to look down, an everthin is goin wrong, an all I done was try to feed little Forrest’s pig, an this bozo is givin me a hard time, an well, that was it!
I grapped him back an lifted him up in the air. Then I spun him aroun a few times, like I remember from my rasslin days with The Professor and The Turd, an then I let him loose. He sailed in the air over a fence, kinda like a Frisbee, an landed right in the middle of the seal pool with a big splash. All the seals done jumped in the water an come rushin up to him an whoppin him with they flippers, an he is hollerin an shoutin an shakin his fist. I walked on out of the zoo an caught the bus back downtown. Sometimes a man has got to do what he has got to do.
Sombitch is lucky I didn’t thow his ass in the tiger pit.
Chapter Seven
Well, it wadn’t long before the shit hit the fan.
It seems that the bidness we had been doin with the Ayatolja was not exactly viewed in a good light by the folks on Capitol Hill, who thought that tradin arms for hostages was not such a hot idea, especially when the money we got was turned over to help the gorillas in Nicaragua. An what them congressmen had in mind was that the President, hissef, was behind the scheme, an they was out to prove it.
Colonel North done so good testifyin before the Congress the first time that they invited him back again, an this time they had a bunch of slick Philadelphia lawyers tryin to trip him up. But the colonel, now, he is pretty slick hissef, an when he is usin his tact an diplomacy, he is pretty hard to trip up.
“Colonel,” asts one of the lawyers, “what would you do if the President of the United States told you to commit a crime?”
“Well, sir,” says the colonel, “I am a marine. And marines obey the orders of their commanders-in-chief. So even if the President told me to commit a crime, what I would do is, I would salute smartly an charge up the hill.”
“Hill? What hill? Capitol Hill?”
“No, you jackass—any hill! It’s a figure of speech. We are the marines! We charge up hills for a living.”
“Oh, yeah, then how come they call you ‘jarheads’?”
“I kill you, you sombitch—I rip your head off, an spit down your neck!”
“Please, Colonel, don’t let us be vulgar. Violence will get you nowhere. Now, Colonel, what you are tellin me is that this was not the President’s idea?”
“That’s what I am tellin you, you asshole.”
“So whose idea was it then? Was it yours?”
“Of course not, you jerk.” (The colonel’s tact an diplomacy is now gettin into full swing.)
“Then whose was it?”
“Well, it was a lot of people’s. It just sort of evolved.”
“Evolved? But there must of been a ‘Prime Mover,’ Colonel. Things of this magnitude just do not simply ‘evolve.’ ”
“Well, sir, in fact there probably was a person who thought it through the most thoroughly.”
“So this person, he would be the ‘Prime Mover’ of all these illegal schemes, is that correct?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“And this person, was it Admiral Poindexter, the security adviser to the President of the United States?”
“That pipe-smokin butthole? Of course not. He ain’t got the sense to pour piss out of a boot, let alone be a Prime Mover.”
“Then, can you tell us, sir, who was it?”
“Why, yessir, I can. It was Private Forrest Gump.”
“Who?”
“Gump, sir, PFC Forrest Gump, who has been a special assistant to the President for covert activities. It was all his idea.”
At this, all the lawyers an senators got into a huddle an begun to whisper an wave they hands an nod they heads.
So that’s how I got dragged into the mess.
Next thing I knowed, two goons in trenchcoats come up to my crate in Lafayette Park in the middle of the night an start bangin on the top. When I crawled out to see what was goin on, one of em shoved a paper in my hand, say I got to appear in the mornin before the Special Senate Committee to Investigate the Iran-Contra Scandal.
“An, I suggest you get that uniform pressed before you get there,” one of the goons says, “because your big ass is in a heap of trouble.”
Well, I didn’t know what to do next. It was too late to wake up Colonel North, who I figgered would have it all thought out with his tact an diplomacy, so I wandered aroun the city for a while an finally wound up at the Lincoln Memorial. The lights was shinin down on the big ole feller, all done up in his marble statue an lookin kinda sad, an a mist was blowin in off the Potomac River, an it had begun to drizzle a little rain. I was feelin pretty sorry for mysef, when lo an behole, out of the mist I seen Jenny sort of walkin toward me!
Right off the bat, she says, “Well, looks like you have done it again, Forrest.”
“I reckon,” I says.
“Didn’t you get in enough trouble the last time you went into the army?”
“Yup.”
“So what is it? You think you had to do this for little Forrest?”
“Yup.”
She brushed her hair back an tossed her head, just like she used to do, an I just stood there, twistin my hands.
“Feelin kinda sorry for yourself, huh?”
“Uh huh.”
“Don’t want to go up there to the Congress and tell the truth, do you?”
“Nope.”
“Well, you better, cause this is a serious bidness, sellin arms for hostages—At least those bozos think so.”
“So I’m tole.”
“So what you gonna do?”
“I dunno.”
“My advice is, I’d come clean with the whole thing. And don’t be coverin up for anybody. Okay?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, an then another big ole cloud of white mist come waftin in from the river, an Jenny, she just sor
t of vanished into it, an for a moment I wanted so bad to go runnin after her, maybe to catch her somehow, an bring her back—but even I am not so stupid as that. So I just turned aroun an started back for my crate. Anyhow, I am left on my own again. An as it turned out, it was the last time I did not take Jenny’s advice about tellin the truth.
“Now, tell us, Private Gump, just when was it you first got the idea to swap arms for hostages?”
I be settin at a big ole table facin all the senators an lawyers an other muckity-mucks in the congressional hearin room, an the TV cameras be rollin an lights shinin in my face. A little young-lookin, blond-haired lawyer guy be astin the questions.
“Who says I did?” I ast.
“I am asking the questions here, Private Gump. You just answer em.”
“Well, I don’t know how I can answer that,” I says. “I mean, you don’t even ast me whether I did—You just ast me when...?”
“That’s right, Private Gump, when was it, then?”
I looked over at Colonel North, uniform all full of medals, an he be glarin at me an slowly noddin his head, like I am sposed to answer somethin.
“Well, it was when I first met the President, I reckon.”
“Yes, and did you not tell the President that you had conceived a scheme to swap arms for hostages?”
“No, sir.”
“What did you tell the President then?”
“I tole him the last time I met a president, he wanted to watch To Tell the Truth, on the TV.”
“Issat so! An what did the President say?”
“He says he would rather watch Let’s Make a Deal.”
“Private Gump! I remind you that you are under oath here!”
“Well, actually, he was watchin Concentration, but he said it confuses him.”
“Private Gump! You are evading my question—and you are under oath. Are you tryin to make the United States Senate look ridiculous? We can hold you in contempt!”
“I reckon you already do,” I says.
“Sombitch! You are covering up for all of them—the President, Colonel North, here, Poindexter, and I don’t know who-all else! We are gonna get to the bottom of this if it takes all year!”
“Yessir.”
“So, now, Gump, Colonel North has told us you conceived the whole nefarious plan to swap arms for hostages to the Ayatolja and then divert the money to the Contras in Central America. Isn’t that so?”
“I don’t know nothin about any Contras—I thought the money was goin to some gorillas.”
“Ah—an admission! So you did know about this horrible scheme!”
“I understood the gorillas need the money, yessir. That’s what I was tole.”
“Ha! I think you are lying, Private Gump. I suggest that it was you who devised the entire operation—and with the President’s complicity! Are you trying to play dumb?”
“It ain’t exactly playin, sir.”
“Mr. Chairman!” the lawyer says. “It is obvious that Private Gump, here, the ‘special assistant for covert operations to the President of the United States,’ is a fraud and a faker, and that he is deliberately tryin to make the United States Congress look like fools! He ought to be held in contempt!”
The chairman, he sort of drawed hissef up an look down at me like I was a bug.
“Yes, it does appear that way. Uh, Private Gump, do you understand the penalty for makin the United States Congress look like fools?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, we can thow your ass in jail—not to put too fine a point on it.”
“Oh, yeah,” I says, tryin to imitate Colonel North’s tact an diplomacy strategy, “start thowin then.”
So here I am again, thowed in jail. Headline in The Washington Post next day says: MORON DETAINED IN CONTEMPT OF CONGRESS CASE.
An Alabama man, who sources close to the Post identified as a “certified idiot,” has been charged with contempt of Congress in the Iran-Contra scandal, which this paper has covered from top to bottom.
Forrest Gump, of no fixed address, was sentenced to an indefinite prison term yesterday after he began ridiculing members of the Select Senate Committee appointed to investigate charges that key members of the Reagan administration conspired to swindle the Ayatolja Koumani of Iran out of cash in an arms-for-hostages scam.
Gump, who apparently has been involved in numerous shady activities involving the U.S. Government, including its space program, was described by sources as “a member of the lunatic fringe of American intelligence operations. He’s one of those guys who comes an goes in the night,” the source said.
A senator on the committee, who asked not to be identified, told the Post that Gump “will rot in that jail until he repents for trying to make fools of the U.S. Congress. Only the U.S. Congress itselves, and not some shitheaver from Alabama, is permitted to do that,” said the senator, to quote his own words.
Anyhow, they give me some clothes with black an white prison stripes on em, an stick me in a cell I got to share with a forger, a child molester, a dynamite bomber, an some nut called Hinckley who is always talkin about the actress Jodie Foster. The forger is the nicest one of the bunch.
Anyhow, after reviewin my employment qualifications, they set me to work makin license plates, an life settled down to a dull routine. It was about Christmastime—Christmas Eve, to be exact, an it was snowin—when a guard come up to the cell an say I got a visitor.
I ast him who it was, but he just says, “Listen, Gump, you is lucky to have any kind of visitor, considerin the crime you have committed. People that go around makin a fool of the U.S. Congress are lucky they don’t get thowed in ‘the hole’—so get your big ass out here.”
I gone on down to the visitors room with him. Outside, a group of carolers from the Salvation Army is singin “Away in a Manger,” an I can hear a Santa Claus ringin his bell for donations. When I set down in front of the wire booth, I am absolutely floored to see settin across from me little Forrest.
“Well, merry Christmas, I guess” is all he says.
I don’t know what else to say, so I says, “Thanks.”
We just set lookin at each other for a minute. Actually, little Forrest is mostly starin down at the counter, ashamed, I guess, to see his daddy in the pokey.
“Well, how’d you come to get here?” I ast.
“Grandma sent me. You was in all the papers and on TV, too. She said she thought it might cheer you up if I came.”
“Yeah, well it does. I really appreciate it.”
“It wadn’t my idea,” he said, a comment which I thought was unnecessary.
“Look, I know I’ve screwed up, an right now I ain’t exactly somebody you can be proud of. But I been tryin.”
“Tryin to do what?”
“Tryin not to screw up.”
He just kep starin at the counter, an after a minute or so, he says, “I went out to the zoo to see Wanda today.”
“She okay?”
“Took me two hours to find her. Seemed like she was cold. I tried to put my jacket in there for her, but some big ole zoo guard come up an start hollerin at me.”
“He didn’t mess with you, did he?”
“Nah, I tole him it was my pig, an he says somethin like, ‘Yeah, that’s what some other crackpot tole me, too,’ an then he just walked off.”
“So how’s school?”
“It’s okay, I guess. The other kids been givin me a hard time on account of you bein thowed in the slammer.”
“Well, don’t let that bother you, now. It ain’t your fault.”
“I don’t know about that... If I’d just kept remindin you to check those valves and gauges at the pig farm, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“You can’t look back,” I says. “Whatever is, is what is meant to be, I reckon.” That was about the only face I had left to put on it.
“What you doin for Christmas?”
“Oh, they probably got a big ole party for us here,” I lied, “probably hav
e a Santa Claus an presents an a big turkey an everthin. You know how prisons are, they like to see the inmates enjoyin themsefs. What you gonna do?”
“Catch the bus back home, I guess. I reckon I seen all the sights. After I got back from the zoo, I walked by the White House an up to Capitol Hill an then down to the Lincoln Memorial.”
“Yeah, how was that?”
“It was kinda funny, you know. It had started snowin, an was all misty, an... an...”
He begun shakin his head, an I could tell by his voice he was startin to choke up.
“An what...”
“I just miss my mama, that’s all...”
“Your mama, was she... You didn’t see her, did you?”
“Not exactly.”
“But sort of?”
“Yeah, sort of. Just for a minute. But it was only a dream. I know that! I ain’t stupid enough to really believe it.”
“She say anythin to you?”
“Yeah, she says I gotta look out for you. That you all I got, besides Grandma, an that you need my help now.”
“She said that?”
“Look, it was just a dream, like I said. Dreams ain’t real.”
“You never know,” I says. “When’s your bus?”
“About an hour. I guess I better be goin.”
“Well, you have a good trip home, okay. I’m sorry you had to see me like this, but maybe it won’t be too long afore I get out.”
“Yeah, they gonna turn you loose?”
“Could be. There is a feller comes here for charity work with the inmates. A preacher. He says he is tryin to ‘rehabilitate’ us. He says he thinks he can get me out in a few months on a ‘federal work-release program’ or somethin. Says he’s got a big ole religious theme park down in Carolina an needs fellers like me to help him run it.”
“Yeah, what’s his name?”
“The Reverend Jim Bakker.”
So that’s how I come to go to work for the Reverend Jim Bakker.
He had a place in Carolina he had named Holy Land, an it was the biggest theme park I had ever heard of. The reverend had a wife called Tammy Faye, looked like a Kewpie doll with eyelashes long as a dragonfly’s wings an a lot of rouge on her cheeks. They was also a younger woman hangin aroun, name of Jessica Hahn, that Reverend Bakker described as his “secretary.”
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