When we get off at the eighteenth floor, Miss Hudgins opens the door with a key. It is like goin in a mansion or somethin. They is crystal chandeliers an big gold-leaf mirrors an paintins on the walls. I see fireplaces an fancy furniture an tables with pitcher books on em. There is a library all paneled in wood an beautiful carpets on the floors. In the corner is a bar.
“You want to see your bedroom?” Miss Hudgins says.
I was so speechless, all I could do was nod.
We gone on in the bedroom, an let me say this: It was a sight. Big ole king-size bed with a covered top an fireplace an a TV set built into the wall. Miss Hudgins says it gets a hundrit channels. The bathroom is grander than that, marble floors an a glass shower with gold knobs an jets that spray in ever direction. There are even two toilets, although one is kinda funny lookin.
“What is that?” I ast, pointin to it.
“That, is a bidet,” she says.
“What’s it for? It ain’t got no seat on it.”
“Er, well, why don’t you just use the other one for now,” Miss Hudgins says. “We can talk about the bidet later.”
Like the sign out front announces, this place is a palace, an “Sooner or later,” Miss Hudgins says, “I imagaine you’re gonna get to meet the nice lady who owns it. She’s a friend of Mr. Bozosky. Her name is Leona.”
Anyway, Miss Hudgins says we got to go out an get me some new clothes that is “fittin for the president of one of Mr. Bozosky’s divisions.” We gone on over to a tailor shop called Mr. Squeegee’s, an is greeted at the door by Mr. Squeegee hissef. He is a little short fat guy with a Hitler-lookin mustache an a bald head.
“Ah, Mr. Gump. I have been expecting you,” he says.
Mr. Squeegee done showed me dozens of suits an jackets an pants an cloth patterns an materials—ties an even socks an underpants. Ever time I pick out somethin, Miss Hudgins says, “No, no—that won’t do,” an she picks out somethin else. Finally, Mr. Squeegee stands me in front of a mirror an begun to take my pants measurements.
“My, my, what a fine specimen you are!” he says.
“You got that right,” Miss Hudgins chimes in.
“By the way, Mr. Gump, what side do you dress on?”
“Side of what?” I ast.
“Side, Mr. Gump. Do you dress to the left or the right?”
“Huh?” I says. “I guess it don’t matter. I just put on my clothes, you know?”
“Well, er, Mr. Gump...”
“Just dress him for both sides,” Miss Hudgins say. “A man like Mr. Gump looks like he can swing any way he wants.”
“Right,” says Mr. Squeegee.
Next day, Eddie picked me up in the limousine an I gone on down to the office. I had just got there when Ivan Bozosky came in an says, “In a little while, let’s do lunch. I got somebody I want you to meet.”
All the rest of the mornin I signed the papers Miss Hudgins brought in. I must of signed twenty or thirty, an even though I sort of glanced at what was in a few, I could not understand a word that was in them. After a hour or two, my stomach begun to growl, an I started thinkin about my mama’s srimp Creole. Good ole Mama.
Pretty soon, Ivan come in an says it is time for lunch. A limo took us to a restaurant called The Four Seasons, an we is showed to a table where there is a tall skinny guy in a suit with a wolfish look on his face.
“Ah, Mr. Gump,” Ivan Bozosky says, “I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
The guy stands up an shook my hand.
Mike Mulligan is his name.
Mike Mulligan is apparently a stockbroker who Mr. Bozosky does some bidness with. Mike Mulligan deals in somethin he calls junk bonds, though what anybody would want with a bunch of junk is beyond me. Nevertheless, I get the impression that Mike Mulligan is some kind of big cheese.
After Ivan an Mike had done some chitchat, they get down to bidness with me.
“What will happen, Mr. Gump,” says Ivan Bozosky, “is that Mike, here, is going to give you a call from time to time. He will tell you the name of a company, an when he does, I want you to write it down. He will spell the name out very carefully, so you will not make any mistakes. When you have done that, give the name of the company to Miss Hudgins. She will know what to do with it.”
“Yeah?” I ast. “An what is that for?”
“The less you know, the better off you are, Gump,” says Ivan. “Mr. Mulligan and I occasionally do each other favors. We trade secrets between us, you know what I mean?” At this, he gives me a big ole wink. There is somethin about all this I don’t like, an I am about to say so, but then Ivan, he springs me the big news.
“Now, Gump, what I’m thinking is, you need a proper salary. You gotta have enough to keep your son in school and put yourself in the catbird seat financially, and I am thinking about, oh, let’s say, two hundred and fifty thousand a year. How does that sound?”
Well, I was sorta dumbstruck. I mean, I have made a bit of money in my day; but that’s a lot of bread for an idiot like me. An so I thought about all this for a few seconds, an then just nodded my head.
“Okay,” says Ivan Bozosky. “It is a done deal, then.” An Mr. Mike Mulligan, he be grinnin like a Cheshire cat.
Over the months, my executive duties went into full swing. I am signin papers like crazy—mergers, acquisitions, buy-outs, sell-outs, puts an calls. One day I come across Ivan Bozosky in the hallway, chucklin to hissef.
“Well, Gump,” he says, “this is the kind of day I like. We done bought out five airlines. I changed the names of two of them, and shut the other three down flat. Them sombitchin passengers ain’t gonna know what the hell is happenin to em! They get their asses strapped into a city-block-long steel cylinder an shot up in the air at six hundred miles an hour, an when they come down, they ain’t even on the same airline as they was when they left!”
“I reckon they will be surprised,” I says.
“Not half as much as those turkeys that was flyin on the ones I shut down!” Ivan chuckles. “We sent out orders by radio for the pilots to land immediately, wherever the nearest field is, an let the bastids off, then and there. There’s gonna be assholes thinkin they’re headed for Paris, gonna be put off cold in Thule, Greenland. Or those who booked in for LA, they gonna wind up in Montana or Wisconsin or someplace!”
“Ain’t they gonna be mad?” I ast.
“Screw em,” says Ivan, wavin his hands. “That’s what it’s all about, Gump! Base capitalism! The old fuckeroo! We gotta consolidate, fire people, get folks scared, an then, when they ain’t lookin, get our hands in their pockets. That’s what the deal is, my boy!”
An so it went, me signin papers an Ivan an Mike Mulligan buyin an sellin. Meantime, I was gettin my taste of the high life in New York City. I gone to Broadway plays an private clubs an charity benefits at Tavern on the Green. Seems like nobody don’t cook at home in New York, but go out to restaurants ever night an eat mysterious-lookin food that cost as much as a new suit of clothes. But I guess it don’t matter to me, account of I am makin so much money. Miss Hudgins, she is my “escort” at these affairs. She says Ivan Bozosky wants me to keep a “high profile,” an indeed this is so. Ever week I am mentioned in the newspaper gossip columns, an many times they run my picture, too. Miss Hudgins says there are three newspapers in New York—the “smart people’s paper,” the “dumb people’s paper,” an the “stupid people’s paper.” But, Miss Hudgins say, everbody who is anybody reads all three, account of they want to see if they are in there.
One night we had got through with a big charity dance an Miss Hudgins was gonna drop me off at the Helmsley Palace before Eddie took her home. But this time, she say she’d like to come up to my suite “for a nightcap.” I am wonderin why, but it is not nice to say no to a lady, so we went on up.
Soon as we get inside, Miss Hudgins turns on the hi-fi, goes over to the bar, an makes a drink. Straight scotch. Then she kicks off her shoes an plops down on the sofa in a reclinin pose.
“
Why don’t you kiss me,” she asts.
I gone over an give her a peck on the cheek, but she graps me an hauls me down on top of her.
“Here, Forrest, I want you to sniff this.” With one hand, she dumps a little white powder from a vial out on her thumbnail.
“Why?” I ast.
“Cause it’ll make you feel good. It’ll make you feel powerful.”
“Why I need to feel that?”
“Just do it,” she says. “Just this one time. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”
I didn’t much want to, but it seemed harmless enough, you know? Wadn’t but a little bit of white powder. An so I done it. Made me sneeze.
“I’ve waited a long time for this, Forrest,” she says. “I want you.”
“Ah, well,” I says, “I thought we had a sort of workin relationship, you know?”
“Yeah, well, it’s time you get to working!” she pants, an begun to undo my tie an grap at me with her hands.
Well, I didn’t know what I was sposed to do. I mean, I had always heard it was a mistake to git involved with persons you work with—“Do not foul your own nest” was what Lieutenant Dan used to say—but at this point, I am truly confused. Miss Hudgins was certainly a beautiful woman, an I had not been with a woman, beautiful or otherwise, in a long time... an after all, you are not sposed to say no to a lady... an so I done made all the excuses I could think of in the time allowed, an the next thing I knowed, Miss Hudgins an I was in bed.
After it was over, she smoked a cigarette an thowed on her clothes an left, an I was there alone. She had lit the fire in the fireplace an the logs was flickerin low an orange, an I was not feelin good, like I reckon I was sposed to, but sort of lonely an scared, an wonderin where my life is headed up in New York City. An as I am lyin there, starin at the fire, lo an behole, there suddenly appeared Jenny’s face in the flames.
“Well, bozo, I spose you’re proud of yourself,” she says.
“Oh, no, I’m not, in fact, I’m sorry. I didn’t never want to get into bed with Miss Hudgins in the first place,” I tole her.
“That’s not what I’m talkin about, Forrest,” Jenny says. “I didn’t expect you to never sleep with another woman. You’re a human. You got needs. That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“Your life, you big moose. What are you doing here? When was the last time you spent any time with little Forrest?”
“Well, I called him a few weeks ago. I sent him money...”
“And you think that’s all there is to it, huh? Just send the money and make a few phone calls?”
“No—but what I’m gonna do? Where I’m gonna get the money. Who else is gonna give me a job? Ivan’s payin me top dollar here.”
“Yeah? For what? Do you have any idea what those papers are you’re signing every day?”
“I ain’t sposed to, Jenny—that’s what Mr. Bozosky said.”
“Uh huh. Well, I reckon you’re just gonna have to find out the hard way. And I spose you don’t have any idea what that crap was you just stuck up your nose, either.”
“Not really.”
“But you did it anyhow, just like you always do. You know, Forrest, I’ve always said you might not be the brightest feller in town, but you’re not as dumb as you act sometimes. I’ve known you all my life and the problem is, mostly, you just don’t think—You know what I mean?”
“Well, I was kinda hopin you’d help me out there a little.”
“I told you, it ain’t my turn to watch you all the time, Forrest. You gotta start lookin out for yourself—and while you’re at it, you might pay a little more attention to little Forrest. Mama’s gettin old, she can’t do it all. Boy like that, he needs a daddy in his life.”
“Where?” I ast. “Here? You want me to move him up to this dump—I might be stupid, but I ain’t so dumb I don’t see that this ain’t no place to raise a boy—everbody either rich or poor, an no in between. These people, they ain’t got no values, Jenny. It’s all about money an shit, an gettin your ass in the newspaper columns.”
“Yeah, an you’re right in the middle of it, aren’t you? What you’re describing is just one side of this town that you’re seeing. Maybe there’s another one. People are pretty much the same, everyplace.”
“I am doing what I am tole,” I says.
“What ever happened to doin the right thing?”
To this, I had no answer, an all of a sudden, Jenny’s face begun to fade behind the fire.
“Now, wait a minute,” I says. “We is just beginnin to get things straight—Don’t go now—It ain’t been but a couple of minutes...”
“See you later, alligator,” she says, an then she is gone. I set up in the bed an tears come to my eyes. Ain’t nobody understands what is happenin with me—not even Jenny. I wanted to pull the sheets over my head an not get up at all, but after a while, I gone on an got dressed an went into the office. On my desk, Miss Hudgins had left a pile of papers for me to sign.
Well, I know that Jenny is right about one thing. I got to spend some time with little Forrest, an so I arranged for him to come up to New York City for a few days’ vacation. He arrived on a Friday, an Eddie picked him up at the airport in my limousine, which I figgered would impress him. It didn’t.
He come into my office wearin dungarees an a T-shirt, took a quick look around, an delivered his opinion.
“I’d rather be back at the pig farm.”
“How come?” I ast.
“What’s so good about all this?” he says. “You gotta nice view. So what?”
“It’s where I earn my livin,” I says.
“Doin what?”
“Signin papers.”
“This what you gonna do the rest of your life?”
“I dunno. I mean, it pays the bills.”
He shook his head an gone over to the winder.
“What’s that out there?” he ast. “That the Statue of Liberty?”
“Yup,” I says. “That’s her.” I can’t get over how much he has growed up. He must be more than five feet tall an is certainly a handsome young man, with Jenny’s blond hair an blue eyes.
“You wanna go see her?”
“Who?”
“The Statue of Liberty.”
“I guess,” he says.
“Well, good, cause I done arranged for us to take a tour of the town these next few days. We is gonna see all the sights.”
So that’s what we did. We gone down Fifth Avenue to see the shops an out to the Statue of Liberty an the top of the Empire State Buildin, where little Forrest says he wants to thow somethin off to see how long it takes to land on the ground. I did not let him do that, though. We gone up to Grant’s Tomb an down to Broadway, where they was a man exposin himself, an in Central Park, but not for long, account of there was muggers present. We took the subway an come out near the Plaza Hotel, where we stopped in for a CokeCola. The bill come an it was twenty-five dollars.
“That’s a bunch of shit,” says little Forrest.
“I reckon I can afford it,” I says, but he just shook his head an walk on out to the car. I can see he ain’t havin such a good time, but what I’m gonna do about it? He don’t want to see no plays, an the FAO Schwarz store bores him. I took him to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, an for a while, he seems interested in somethin looks like King Tut’s tomb, but then he says it’s all just a bunch of ole stuff, an we are on the street again.
I let him off at the apartment an gone back to the office. When Miss Hudgins brought me in another batch of papers to sign, I ast her what I oughta do.
“Well, maybe he’d like to see some famous people, you know?”
“Where I’m gonna find em?”
“Only place in town,” she says, “Elaine’s restaurant.”
“What is that?” I ast.
“You gotta see it to believe it” was Miss Hudgins’ answer.
So we went to Elaine’s restaurant.
We go there at
five o’clock sharp, account of that’s the time most people have they supper, but Elaine’s restaurant was deserted. It was not the sort of place I had expected; to say it is nothin fancy is a understatement. There was some waiters hangin around, an at the end of the bar was this big ole jolly-lookin lady doin paperwork. I figger her to be Elaine.
While little Forrest waited by the door, I gone over an introduced mysef, an tole her why I was there.
“Fine,” Elaine says, “but you come a little early. Most folks don’t start showin up here for another four or five hours.”
“What? They eat someplace else an come in here later?” last.
“No, you dummy. They are all at cocktail parties or plays or openings or somethin. This is a late-night place.”
“Well, you mind if we set down an have our food?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Any idea which famous people will be showin up later?” I ast.
“It’ll be the usual suspects, I guess. Barbra Streisand, Woody Allen, Kurt Vonnegut, George Plimpton, Lauren Bacall—who knows, maybe Paul Newman or Jack Nicholson’s in town.”
“They all come here?”
“Sometimes—but listen, there is one rule, and you can’t violate it. There will be no goin over to these famous people’s tables and disturbin them. No picture taking, no tape recording, no nothin. Now, you just sit right at that big round table. That’s the ‘family table,’ an if any famous people come in that don’t have other arrangements, I will put them there, an you can talk to them.”
So that’s what we did, little Forrest an me. We ate our supper an dessert an then a second dessert, but ain’t but a handful of people have arrived at Elaine’s. I could tell little Forrest was bored, but I figger this is my last chance to impress him with New York, an just about the time I see him squirmin to leave, the door opens an who should be comin in but Elizabeth Taylor.
After that, the place begun to fill up very fast. Bruce Willis an Donald Trump an Cher, the movie star. Sure enough, in comes George Plimpton with his friend, a Mister Spinelli, an the writer William Styron. Woody Allen arrives with a whole entourage, as does the writers Kurt Vonnegut an Norman Mailer an Robert Ludlum. They was all sorts of beautiful people, wearin expensive clothes an furs. I had read about some of them in the papers, an was tryin to explain who they was to little Forrest.
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