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I ain’t sayin nothin, but it look like I am in serious trouble this time.
“Mister Gump,” the judge say, “I do not know what a man of your stature, a man what has served his country so well, is doin mixed up with a bunch of tuity-fruities that is thowin away their medals, but I will tell you what, I is gonna order you committed for psychiatric observation for thirty days to see if they can figger out why you has done such a idiotic thing.”
They took me back to my cell after that, an a wile later load me on a bus an truck me off to St. Elizabeth’s mental hospital.
Finally, I am “Put Away.”
12
13
14
15
“Mister Gump,” the judge say, “I do not know what a man of your stature, a man what has served his country so well, is doin mixed up with a bunch of tuity-fruities that is thowin away their medals, but I will tell you what, I is gonna order you committed for psychiatric observation for thirty days to see if they can figger out why you has done such a idiotic thing.”
They took me back to my cell after that, an a wile later load me on a bus an truck me off to St. Elizabeth’s mental hospital.
Finally, I am “Put Away.”
12
This place is a serious loony bin. They put me in a room with a feller called Fred that has been here for almost a year. He begun to tell me right off what kind of nuts I got to contend with. They is one guy that poisoned six people, somebody else that used a meat cleaver on his mama. They is people who have done all sorts of shit—from murder an rape to sayin they is the King of Spain or Napoleon. Finally I axed Fred why he is in here an he say because he is a axe murderer, but they is lettin him out in another week or so.
The secont day I am there, I is tole to report to the office of my psychiatrist, Doctor Walton. Doctor Walton, it turn out, is a woman. First, she say, she is gonna give me a little test, then I is gonna have a physical examination. She set me down at a table an start showin me cards with ink blots on them, axin me what I thought they were. I kep sayin “ink blot” till she finally get mad an tell me I got to say somethin else, an so I started makin things up. Then I am handed a long test an tole to take it. When I am done, she say, “Take off your clothes.”
Well, with one or two exceptions, ever time I take off my clothes, somethin bad happen to me, so I says I would rather not, an she make a note of this an then tell me either I do it mysef, or she will get the attendants to hep me. It was that kind of deal.
I go on an do it, an when I is butt neckid, she come into the room an look at me, up an down, an say, “My, my—you is a fine specimen of a man!”
Anyhow, she start bongin me on the knee with a little rubber hammer like they done back at the University, an polkin me in all sorts of places. But she ain’t never said for me to “bend over,” an for this I am grateful. Afterward, she say I can get dressed an go back to my room. On the way there, I past by a room with a glass door an inside it they is a bunch of little guys, settin an lyin aroun, droolin an spasmoin an beatin on the floor with they fists. I jus stood there for a wile, lookin in, an I’m feelin real sorry for them—kinda remind me of my days back at the nut school.
A couple of days later, I am tole to report to Doctor Walton’s office again. When I get there, she is with two other guys dressed up as doctors, an she say they is Doctor Duke and Doctor Earl—both with the National Institute of Mental Health. An they is very interested in my case, she say.
Doctor Duke an Doctor Earl set me down an start axin me questions—all kinds of questions—an both of them took turns bongin me on the knees with the hammer. Then Doctor Duke say, “Look here, Forrest, we has got your test scores, an it is remarkable how well you is done on the math part. So we would like to give you some other tests.” They produce the tests, an make me take them, an they is a lot more complicated than the first one, but I figger I done okay. Had I knowed what was gonna happen nex, I would of fucked them up.
“Forrest,” Doctor Earl say, “this is phenomenal. You is got a brain jus like a computer. I do not know how well you can reason with it—which is probly why you is in here in the first place—but I have never seen anything quite like this before.”
“You know, George,” Doctor Duke say, “this man is truly remarkable. I have done some work for NASA a wile back, an I think we ought to send him down to Houston to the Aeronautics and Space Center an have them check him out. They has been lookin for just this sort of feller.”
All the doctors be starin at me, an noddin they heads, an then they bonged me on the knees with a hammer one more time an it look like here I go again.
They flown me down to Houston, Texas, in a big ole plane with nobody on it but me an Doctor Duke, but it is a pleasant sort of trip cept they got me chained to my seat han an foot.
“Look here, Forrest,” Doctor Duke say, “the deal is this. Right now you is in a shitpot of trouble for thowin that medal at the Clerk of the U.S. Senate. You can go to jail for ten years for that. But if you cooperates with these people at NASA, I will personally see to it that you is released—okay?”
I nod my head. I knowed I got to get outta jail an find Jenny again. I am missin her somethin terrible.
I am at the NASA place at Houston for about a month. They has examined me an tested me an questioned me so much I feel like I am goin on the Johnny Carson show.
I ain’t.
One day they haul me into a big room an tell me what they has in mind.
“Gump,” they say, “we wants to use you on a flight to outer space. As Doctor Duke has pointed out, your mind is jus like a computer—only better. If we can program it with the right stuff, you will be extremely useful to America’s space program. What do you say?”
I thought for a minute, an then I says I had better axe my mama first, but they make an even stronger argument—like spendin the next ten years of my life in the slammer.
An so I says yes, which is usually what gets me in trouble ever time.
The idea they has thought up is to put me in a spaceship an shoot me up aroun the earth bout a million miles. They has already shot people up to the moon, but they didn’t find nothin there worth a shit, so what they is plannin nex is a visit to Mars. Fortunately for me, Mars is not what they got in mind at the moment—instead, this is to be a sort of trainin mission in which they gonna try to figger out what kind of folks would be suited best for the Mars trip.
Besides me, they has picked a woman an a ape to go along.
The woman is a crabby-lookin lady called Major Janet Fritch, who is sposed to be America’s first woman astronaut, only nobody knows bout her cause all this be pretty top secret. She is a sort of short lady with hair look like it been cut by puttin a bowl over her head, an she don’t seem to have much use for either me or the ape.
The ape ain’t so bad, actually. It is a big ole female orangutang called Sue, what has been captured in the jungles of Sumatra or someplace. Actually they has got a whole bunch of them apes down here, an have been shootin them up into space for a long wile, but they says Sue will be best on this trip on account of she is a female an will be friendlier than a male ape, an also, this will be her third space flight. When I find this out, I am wonderin how come they gonna send us way up there with the only experienced crew member bein a ape. Kind of makes you think, don’t it?
Anyhow, we got to go thru all kinds of trainin before the flight. They puttin us in cyclotrons an spinnin us aroun, an in little rooms with no gravity an such as that. An all day long they be crammin my mind with shit they want me to remember, such as equations to figger the distance between wherever we is, an wherever they want us to go, an how to get back again; all kinds of crap like coaxiel coordinates, co sine computations, spheriod trigonometry, Boolean algebra, antilogarithms, Fourier analysis, quadrats an matrix math. They say I is to be the “backup” for the backup computer.
I have writ a bunch of letters to Jenny Curran but all of them done come back “Addressee not Known.” Also I done wrote to my mama, an she send me back a long letter the gist of which is “How can you do this to your po ole mama when she is in the po house an you is all she got lef in the world?”
I dared not tell her that I am facin a jail sentence if I don’t, so I jus write her back an say not to worry, on account of we has an experienced crew.
Well, the big day finally come, an let me say this: I am not jus a little bit nervous—I am scant haf to death! Even tho it was top secret, the story done leaked to the press and now we gonna be on tv an all.
That mornin, somebody brung us the newspapers to show us how famous we was. Here is some of the headlines:
“Woman, Ape and Idiot in Next U.S. Space Effort.”
“America Launching Odd Messengers Toward Alien Planets.”
“Girl, Goon, and Gorilla to Lift Off Today.”
There was even one in the New Yawk Post that say, “Up They Go—But Who’s in Charge?”
The only one that sounded halfway nice was the headline in the New Yawk Times, which say, “New Space Probe Has Varied Crew.”
Well, as usual, everthing is all confusion from the minute we get up. We go to get our breakfast an somebody say, “They ain’t sposed to eat no breakfast the day of the flight.” Then somebody else say, “Yes we is,” an then somebody else say, “No they ain’t,” an it go on like that for a wile till ain’t nobody hungry anymore.
They get us into our space suits an take us out there to the launchin pad in a little bus with ole Sue ridin in back in a cage. The spaceship is about a hundrit stories tall an is all foamin an hissin an steamin an look like it bout to eat us alive! A elevator take us to the capsule we is to be in, an they strap us in an load ole Sue in her place in back. Then we wait.
An we wait some more.
An we wait some more.
An we wait some more.
All along, the spaceship be boilin an hissin an growlin an steamin. Somebody say a hundrit million people out there watchin us on television. I reckon they be waitin too.
Anyhow, bout noon, somebody come up an knock on the spaceship door an say, we is temporarily cancelin this mission till they get the spaceship fixed.
So we all get to go back down in the elevator again, me, Sue, an Major Fritch. She be the only one moanin an bitchin, cause Sue an me is very relieved.
Our relief was not to last long, however. Bout a hour later somebody run into the room where we is jus about to set down to lunch an say, “Get in your space suits again right now! They is fixin to shoot you up in space!”
Everbody be hollerin an shoutin again an rushin aroun. I reckon maybe a bunch of the tv viewers have called in to complain or somethin, an so they decided to lite that fire under our asses no matter what. Whatever it is, it don’t matter now.
Anyhow, we is put back on the bus an taken to the spaceship an we is halfway up the elevator when somebody suddenly say, “Jesus, we forgot the goddamn ape!” an he start hollerin down to the fellers on the groun to go back an get ole Sue.
We is strapped in again an somebody is countin backwards from one hundrit when they come thru the door with Sue. We is all leaned back in our seats an the count is down to about “ten,” when I be hearin some strange growlin noises from behin us where Sue is. I sort of turned aroun, an low an behole, it ain’t Sue settin there at all, it is a big ole male ape, what got his teeth bared an is grappin holt of his seatbelt straps like he is about to bust loose any secont!
I tell Major Fritch an she look aroun an say, “Oh my God!” an get on the radio to whoever it is in the groun control tower. “Listen,” she say, “you has made a mistake an put one of them male apes in here with us, so we better call this thing off till it is straightened out.” But all of a sudden the spaceship start to rumblin an quakin an the guy in the control tower says over the radio, “That’s your problem now, sister, we got a schedule to meet.”
An away we go.
The secont day I am there, I is tole to report to the office of my psychiatrist, Doctor Walton. Doctor Walton, it turn out, is a woman. First, she say, she is gonna give me a little test, then I is gonna have a physical examination. She set me down at a table an start showin me cards with ink blots on them, axin me what I thought they were. I kep sayin “ink blot” till she finally get mad an tell me I got to say somethin else, an so I started makin things up. Then I am handed a long test an tole to take it. When I am done, she say, “Take off your clothes.”
Well, with one or two exceptions, ever time I take off my clothes, somethin bad happen to me, so I says I would rather not, an she make a note of this an then tell me either I do it mysef, or she will get the attendants to hep me. It was that kind of deal.
I go on an do it, an when I is butt neckid, she come into the room an look at me, up an down, an say, “My, my—you is a fine specimen of a man!”
Anyhow, she start bongin me on the knee with a little rubber hammer like they done back at the University, an polkin me in all sorts of places. But she ain’t never said for me to “bend over,” an for this I am grateful. Afterward, she say I can get dressed an go back to my room. On the way there, I past by a room with a glass door an inside it they is a bunch of little guys, settin an lyin aroun, droolin an spasmoin an beatin on the floor with they fists. I jus stood there for a wile, lookin in, an I’m feelin real sorry for them—kinda remind me of my days back at the nut school.
A couple of days later, I am tole to report to Doctor Walton’s office again. When I get there, she is with two other guys dressed up as doctors, an she say they is Doctor Duke and Doctor Earl—both with the National Institute of Mental Health. An they is very interested in my case, she say.
Doctor Duke an Doctor Earl set me down an start axin me questions—all kinds of questions—an both of them took turns bongin me on the knees with the hammer. Then Doctor Duke say, “Look here, Forrest, we has got your test scores, an it is remarkable how well you is done on the math part. So we would like to give you some other tests.” They produce the tests, an make me take them, an they is a lot more complicated than the first one, but I figger I done okay. Had I knowed what was gonna happen nex, I would of fucked them up.
“Forrest,” Doctor Earl say, “this is phenomenal. You is got a brain jus like a computer. I do not know how well you can reason with it—which is probly why you is in here in the first place—but I have never seen anything quite like this before.”
“You know, George,” Doctor Duke say, “this man is truly remarkable. I have done some work for NASA a wile back, an I think we ought to send him down to Houston to the Aeronautics and Space Center an have them check him out. They has been lookin for just this sort of feller.”
All the doctors be starin at me, an noddin they heads, an then they bonged me on the knees with a hammer one more time an it look like here I go again.
They flown me down to Houston, Texas, in a big ole plane with nobody on it but me an Doctor Duke, but it is a pleasant sort of trip cept they got me chained to my seat han an foot.
“Look here, Forrest,” Doctor Duke say, “the deal is this. Right now you is in a shitpot of trouble for thowin that medal at the Clerk of the U.S. Senate. You can go to jail for ten years for that. But if you cooperates with these people at NASA, I will personally see to it that you is released—okay?”
I nod my head. I knowed I got to get outta jail an find Jenny again. I am missin her somethin terrible.
I am at the NASA place at Houston for about a month. They has examined me an tested me an questioned me so much I feel like I am goin on the Johnny Carson show.
I ain’t.
One day they haul me into a big room an tell me what they has in mind.
“Gump,” they say, “we wants to use you on a flight to outer space. As Doctor Duke has pointed out, your mind is jus like a computer—only better. If we can program it with the right stuff, you will be extremely useful to America’s space program. What do you say?”
I thought for a minute, an then I says I had better axe my mama first, but they make an even stronger argument—like spendin the next ten years of my life in the slammer.
An so I says yes, which is usually what gets me in trouble ever time.
The idea they has thought up is to put me in a spaceship an shoot me up aroun the earth bout a million miles. They has already shot people up to the moon, but they didn’t find nothin there worth a shit, so what they is plannin nex is a visit to Mars. Fortunately for me, Mars is not what they got in mind at the moment—instead, this is to be a sort of trainin mission in which they gonna try to figger out what kind of folks would be suited best for the Mars trip.
Besides me, they has picked a woman an a ape to go along.
The woman is a crabby-lookin lady called Major Janet Fritch, who is sposed to be America’s first woman astronaut, only nobody knows bout her cause all this be pretty top secret. She is a sort of short lady with hair look like it been cut by puttin a bowl over her head, an she don’t seem to have much use for either me or the ape.
The ape ain’t so bad, actually. It is a big ole female orangutang called Sue, what has been captured in the jungles of Sumatra or someplace. Actually they has got a whole bunch of them apes down here, an have been shootin them up into space for a long wile, but they says Sue will be best on this trip on account of she is a female an will be friendlier than a male ape, an also, this will be her third space flight. When I find this out, I am wonderin how come they gonna send us way up there with the only experienced crew member bein a ape. Kind of makes you think, don’t it?
Anyhow, we got to go thru all kinds of trainin before the flight. They puttin us in cyclotrons an spinnin us aroun, an in little rooms with no gravity an such as that. An all day long they be crammin my mind with shit they want me to remember, such as equations to figger the distance between wherever we is, an wherever they want us to go, an how to get back again; all kinds of crap like coaxiel coordinates, co sine computations, spheriod trigonometry, Boolean algebra, antilogarithms, Fourier analysis, quadrats an matrix math. They say I is to be the “backup” for the backup computer.
I have writ a bunch of letters to Jenny Curran but all of them done come back “Addressee not Known.” Also I done wrote to my mama, an she send me back a long letter the gist of which is “How can you do this to your po ole mama when she is in the po house an you is all she got lef in the world?”
I dared not tell her that I am facin a jail sentence if I don’t, so I jus write her back an say not to worry, on account of we has an experienced crew.
Well, the big day finally come, an let me say this: I am not jus a little bit nervous—I am scant haf to death! Even tho it was top secret, the story done leaked to the press and now we gonna be on tv an all.
That mornin, somebody brung us the newspapers to show us how famous we was. Here is some of the headlines:
“Woman, Ape and Idiot in Next U.S. Space Effort.”
“America Launching Odd Messengers Toward Alien Planets.”
“Girl, Goon, and Gorilla to Lift Off Today.”
There was even one in the New Yawk Post that say, “Up They Go—But Who’s in Charge?”
The only one that sounded halfway nice was the headline in the New Yawk Times, which say, “New Space Probe Has Varied Crew.”
Well, as usual, everthing is all confusion from the minute we get up. We go to get our breakfast an somebody say, “They ain’t sposed to eat no breakfast the day of the flight.” Then somebody else say, “Yes we is,” an then somebody else say, “No they ain’t,” an it go on like that for a wile till ain’t nobody hungry anymore.
They get us into our space suits an take us out there to the launchin pad in a little bus with ole Sue ridin in back in a cage. The spaceship is about a hundrit stories tall an is all foamin an hissin an steamin an look like it bout to eat us alive! A elevator take us to the capsule we is to be in, an they strap us in an load ole Sue in her place in back. Then we wait.
An we wait some more.
An we wait some more.
An we wait some more.
All along, the spaceship be boilin an hissin an growlin an steamin. Somebody say a hundrit million people out there watchin us on television. I reckon they be waitin too.
Anyhow, bout noon, somebody come up an knock on the spaceship door an say, we is temporarily cancelin this mission till they get the spaceship fixed.
So we all get to go back down in the elevator again, me, Sue, an Major Fritch. She be the only one moanin an bitchin, cause Sue an me is very relieved.
Our relief was not to last long, however. Bout a hour later somebody run into the room where we is jus about to set down to lunch an say, “Get in your space suits again right now! They is fixin to shoot you up in space!”
Everbody be hollerin an shoutin again an rushin aroun. I reckon maybe a bunch of the tv viewers have called in to complain or somethin, an so they decided to lite that fire under our asses no matter what. Whatever it is, it don’t matter now.
Anyhow, we is put back on the bus an taken to the spaceship an we is halfway up the elevator when somebody suddenly say, “Jesus, we forgot the goddamn ape!” an he start hollerin down to the fellers on the groun to go back an get ole Sue.
We is strapped in again an somebody is countin backwards from one hundrit when they come thru the door with Sue. We is all leaned back in our seats an the count is down to about “ten,” when I be hearin some strange growlin noises from behin us where Sue is. I sort of turned aroun, an low an behole, it ain’t Sue settin there at all, it is a big ole male ape, what got his teeth bared an is grappin holt of his seatbelt straps like he is about to bust loose any secont!
I tell Major Fritch an she look aroun an say, “Oh my God!” an get on the radio to whoever it is in the groun control tower. “Listen,” she say, “you has made a mistake an put one of them male apes in here with us, so we better call this thing off till it is straightened out.” But all of a sudden the spaceship start to rumblin an quakin an the guy in the control tower says over the radio, “That’s your problem now, sister, we got a schedule to meet.”
An away we go.
13
My first impression is of bein squashed under somethin, such as my daddy was when them bananas fell on him. Can’t move, can’t yell, can’t say nothin, can’t do nothin—we is strictly here for the ride. Outside, lookin thru the winder, all I can see is blue sky. The spaceship is movin out.
After a little wile, we seem to slow down some, an things ease up. Major Fritch say we can unbuckle our seatbelts now, an get on bout our bidness, whatever it is. She say we is now travelin at a speed of fifteen thousan miles a hour. I look back an sure enough, the earth is only a little ball behin us, just like it look in all them pichers from outer space. I look aroun, an there’s the big ole ape, all sour-lookin, an glum, glarin at Major Fritch an me. She say maybe he want his lunch or somethin, an for me to go on back there an give him a banana afore he gets angry an does somethin bad.
They has packed a little bag of food for the ape an it contain bananas an some cereals an dried berries an leaves an shit like that. I get it open an start rummagin thru it lookin for somethin that will make the ape happy, an meantime, Major Fritch is on the radio with Houston Groun Control.
“Now listen here,” she say, “we has got to do somethin bout this ape. It ain’t Sue—it is a male ape, an he don’t look none to glad to be here. He might even be violent.”
It took a wile for the message to get there an a reply to get back to us, but some feller down there say, “Awe pooh! One ape is jus like any other.”
“The hell it is,” Major Fritch say. “If you was in this little bitty compartment with that big ole thing you would be singing a different tune.”
An after a minute or two a voice come cracklin over the radio, say, “Look, you is ordered not to tell anybody about this, or we will all be made laughing-stocks. As far as you or anybody else is concerned, that ape is Sue—no matter what it’s got between its legs.”
Major Fritch look at me an shake her head. “Aye, aye, sir,” she say, “but I’m gonna keep that fucker strapped in as long as I’m in here with him—you understand that?”
An from the ground control there come back one word:
“Roger.”
Actually, after you get used to it, bein in outer space is kind of fun. We is without gravity, an so can float all over the spaceship, an the scenery is remarkable—moon an sun, earth an stars. I wonder where Jenny Curran is down there, an what she is doin.
Aroun an aroun the earth we go. Day an night go by ever hour or so an it sort of put a different perspective on things. I mean, here I am doin this, an when I get back—or should I say if I get back—what then? Go an start up my little srimp-growin bidness? Go find Jenny again? Play in The Cracked Eggs? Do somethin about my mama bein in the po house? It is all very strange.
Major Fritch be catchin a wink or two of sleep whenever she can, but when she ain’t sleepin, she is bitchin. Crabbin bout the ape, crabbin bout what kind of jackoffs they is down at groun control, crabbin bout she got no place to put on her makeup, crabbin bout me eatin food when it ain’t supper or lunchtime. Hell, all we got to eat is Granola bars anyway. I don’t want to be complainin too much, but it seem like they might of picked a good-lookin woman or at least one that don’t bitch all the time.
An furthermore, let me say this: that ape ain’t no dreamboat either.
First I give it a banana—okay? It grapped the banana an started peelin it, but then it put the banana down. Banana started floatin all aroun the cabin of the spaceship an I got to go find it. I give it back to the ape an he start mushin it up an flingin the mush everplace, an I got to go clean that up. Wants attention all the time too. Evertime you leave it alone it commences to put up an enormous racket an clack its jaws together like a set of them wind-up teeth. Drive you nuts after a wile.
Finally I got out my harmonica an started playin a little somethin—”Home on the Range,” I think it was. An the ape started to calm down a little. So I played some more—stuff like “The Yellow Rose of Texas” an “I Dream of Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair.” Ape is lyin there lookin at me, peaceful as a baby. I forget there is a tv camera in the spaceship an they is pickin all this up down there at groun control. Nex mornin when I wake up somebody hole up a newspaper in front of the camera down in Houston for us to see. The headline say, “Idiot Plays Space Music to Soothe Ape.” That is the sort of shit I has got to contend with.
Anyhow, things are goin along pretty good, but I been noticin that ole Sue is lookin at Major Fritch in a kind of strange way. Ever time she get near him, Sue sort of perk up an be reachin out like he wants to grap her or somethin, an she start bitchin at him—”Git away from me you awful thing. Keep your hans to yoursef!” But ole Sue has got somethin in mind. That much I can tell.
It ain’t long before I find out what it is. I have gone behin this little partition to take a pee in a jar in private, when all of a sudden I hear this commotion. I stick my head aroun the partition an Sue has managed to grap a holt of Major Fritch an he has got his han down in her space suit. She is yellin an hollerin to beat the band an is crackin Sue over the head with the radio microphone.
Then it dawns on me what the problem is. Wile we has been up in space for nearly two days, ole Sue been strapped into his seat an ain’t had a chance to take a leak or nothin! An I sure remember what that’s like. He must be bout to bust! Anyhow, I go over an got him away from Major Fritch an she still hollerin an yellin, callin him a “filthy animal,” an shit like that. When she get loose, Major Fritch go up to the front of the cockpit an put her head down an start sobbin. I unstrap Sue an take him behin the partition with me.
I find a empty bottle for him to pee in, but after he finished, he take the bottle an heave it into a panel of colored lights an it bust to pieces an all the pee start floatin aroun in the spaceship. I say, to hell with this, an start leadin Sue back to his seat when I seen a big glob of pee headin straight for Major Fritch. It look like it gonna hit her in the back of the head, so I turn Sue loose an try to head off the pee with a net they have give us for catchin stuff that’s floatin aroun. But jus as I am bout to net the glob of pee, Major Fritch sit back up an turn aroun an it caught her right in the face.
She start hollerin an bawlin again an in the meantime, Sue has done gone an started rippin out wires from the control panel. Major Fritch is screamin, “Stop him! Stop him!” but before you know it, sparks an stuff is flyin all aroun inside the spaceship an Sue is jumpin from ceilin to floor tearin shit up. A voice come over the radio wantin to know “What in hell is goin on up there?” but by then it is too late.
The spaceship is weavin all aroun an goin end over end an me, Sue an Major Fritch is tossed aroun like corks. Can’t grap holt of nothin, can’t turn off nothin, can’t stan up or set down. The voice of groun control come over the radio again, say, “We is noticin some kine of minor stabilization trouble with your craft. Forrest, will you manually insert the D-six program into the starboard computer?”
Shit—he got to be jokin! I’m spinnin aroun like a top an I got a wild ape loose in here to boot! Major Fritch is hollerin so loud I cannot hear or even think nothin, but the gist of what she is hollerin seem to be that we is bout to crash an burn. I managed to get a glance out of the winder, an in fact things don’t look good. That earth comin up on us mighty fast.
Somehow I managed to get to where the starboard computer is, an hold on to the panel with one han an I’m puttin D-six into the machine. It is a program designed to land the spaceship in the Indian Ocean in case we get in trouble, which we certainly is now.
Major Fritch an ole Sue be holdin on for dear life, but Major Fritch holler out, “What is you doin over there?” When I tole her, she say, “Forgit that, you stupid turd—we is already done passed over the Indian Ocean. Wait till we go roun again an see if you can set us down in the South Pacific.”
Believe it or not, it don’t take much time to go roun the world when you is in a spaceship, an Major Fritch has grapped holt to the radio microphone an is hollerin at them people at groun control that we is headed for either a splash-down or crash-down in the South Pacific Ocean an to come get us as soon as they can. I’m punchin buttons like crazy an that big ole earth is loomin closer. We fly over somethin Major Fritch thinks look like South America an then there be only water again, with the South Pole off to our left an Australia up ahead.
Then everthing get scorchin hot, an funny little souns are comin from the outside of the spaceship an it start shakin an hissin an the earth is dead up ahead. Major Fritch shout to me, “Pull the parachute lever!” but I am pinned in my seat. An she is pressed up against the ceilin of the cabin, an so it look like it’s curtains for us, since we is goin bout ten thousan miles a hour, an headed straight for a big ole green blob of land in the ocean. We hit that goin this fast, ain’t even gonna be a grease spot lef.
But then all of a sudden somethin go “pop” an the spaceship slow down. I look over, an damn if ole Sue ain’t pulled the parachute lever hissef an saved our asses. I remind mysef then an there to feed him a banana when all this shit is over.
Anyhow, the spaceship be swingin back an forth under the parachute, an it look like we is gonna hit the big ole green blob of land—which apparently ain’t so good neither, since we is sposed only to hit water an then ships will pick us up. But ain’t nothin gone right from the time we set foot in this contraption, so why should anybody expect it to now?
Major Fritch is on the radio an sayin to groun control, “We is bout to land on someplace north of Australia out in the ocean, but I ain’t sure where we is.”
Couple of seconts later a voice come back say, “If you ain’t sure where you is, why don’t you look out the winder, you dumb broad?”
So Major Fritch put the radio down an go look out the winder an she say, “Jesus—this look like Borneo or someplace,” but when she try to tell that to groun control, the radio done gone dead.
We be gettin real close to the earth now, an the spaceship still swinging under the parachute. There is nothin but jungle an mountains beneath us cept for a little bitty lake that is kind of brown. We can barely make out somethin going on nex to the lake down there. The three of us—me, Sue an Major Fritch—all got our noses pressed to the winder lookin down, an all of a sudden Major Fritch cry out, “Good God! This ain’t Borneo—this is fuckin New Guinea, an all that shit on the groun must be one of them Cargo Cults or somethin!”
Sue an me lookin down hard, an there on the groun nex to the lake, lookin back at us, is about a thousan natives, all with they arms raised up towards us. They is wearin little grass skirts an has their hair all flayed out, an some is carryin shields an spears.
“Damn,” I say, “what you say they is?”
“Cargo Cult,” Major Fritch say. “In World War II we used to drop packages of candy an stuff like that on these jungle bunnies to keep em on our side, an they ain’t never forgot it. Figgered it was God or somebody doin it, an ever since, they is waiting for us to come back. Even built crude runways an all—see down there? They has got a landin zone all marked off with them big roun black markers.”
“Them things look more like cookin pots to me,” I says.
“Yeah, they do, sort of,” Major Fritch say curiously.
“Ain’t this where cannibals come from?” I axed.
“I reckon we will soon find out,” she say.
Spaceship is gently swingin towards the lake, an jus afore we hit, they start beatin they drums an movin they mouths up and down. We can’t hear nothin on account of bein in the capsule, but our maginations doin just fine.
After a little wile, we seem to slow down some, an things ease up. Major Fritch say we can unbuckle our seatbelts now, an get on bout our bidness, whatever it is. She say we is now travelin at a speed of fifteen thousan miles a hour. I look back an sure enough, the earth is only a little ball behin us, just like it look in all them pichers from outer space. I look aroun, an there’s the big ole ape, all sour-lookin, an glum, glarin at Major Fritch an me. She say maybe he want his lunch or somethin, an for me to go on back there an give him a banana afore he gets angry an does somethin bad.
They has packed a little bag of food for the ape an it contain bananas an some cereals an dried berries an leaves an shit like that. I get it open an start rummagin thru it lookin for somethin that will make the ape happy, an meantime, Major Fritch is on the radio with Houston Groun Control.
“Now listen here,” she say, “we has got to do somethin bout this ape. It ain’t Sue—it is a male ape, an he don’t look none to glad to be here. He might even be violent.”
It took a wile for the message to get there an a reply to get back to us, but some feller down there say, “Awe pooh! One ape is jus like any other.”
“The hell it is,” Major Fritch say. “If you was in this little bitty compartment with that big ole thing you would be singing a different tune.”
An after a minute or two a voice come cracklin over the radio, say, “Look, you is ordered not to tell anybody about this, or we will all be made laughing-stocks. As far as you or anybody else is concerned, that ape is Sue—no matter what it’s got between its legs.”
Major Fritch look at me an shake her head. “Aye, aye, sir,” she say, “but I’m gonna keep that fucker strapped in as long as I’m in here with him—you understand that?”
An from the ground control there come back one word:
“Roger.”
Actually, after you get used to it, bein in outer space is kind of fun. We is without gravity, an so can float all over the spaceship, an the scenery is remarkable—moon an sun, earth an stars. I wonder where Jenny Curran is down there, an what she is doin.
Aroun an aroun the earth we go. Day an night go by ever hour or so an it sort of put a different perspective on things. I mean, here I am doin this, an when I get back—or should I say if I get back—what then? Go an start up my little srimp-growin bidness? Go find Jenny again? Play in The Cracked Eggs? Do somethin about my mama bein in the po house? It is all very strange.
Major Fritch be catchin a wink or two of sleep whenever she can, but when she ain’t sleepin, she is bitchin. Crabbin bout the ape, crabbin bout what kind of jackoffs they is down at groun control, crabbin bout she got no place to put on her makeup, crabbin bout me eatin food when it ain’t supper or lunchtime. Hell, all we got to eat is Granola bars anyway. I don’t want to be complainin too much, but it seem like they might of picked a good-lookin woman or at least one that don’t bitch all the time.
An furthermore, let me say this: that ape ain’t no dreamboat either.
First I give it a banana—okay? It grapped the banana an started peelin it, but then it put the banana down. Banana started floatin all aroun the cabin of the spaceship an I got to go find it. I give it back to the ape an he start mushin it up an flingin the mush everplace, an I got to go clean that up. Wants attention all the time too. Evertime you leave it alone it commences to put up an enormous racket an clack its jaws together like a set of them wind-up teeth. Drive you nuts after a wile.
Finally I got out my harmonica an started playin a little somethin—”Home on the Range,” I think it was. An the ape started to calm down a little. So I played some more—stuff like “The Yellow Rose of Texas” an “I Dream of Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair.” Ape is lyin there lookin at me, peaceful as a baby. I forget there is a tv camera in the spaceship an they is pickin all this up down there at groun control. Nex mornin when I wake up somebody hole up a newspaper in front of the camera down in Houston for us to see. The headline say, “Idiot Plays Space Music to Soothe Ape.” That is the sort of shit I has got to contend with.
Anyhow, things are goin along pretty good, but I been noticin that ole Sue is lookin at Major Fritch in a kind of strange way. Ever time she get near him, Sue sort of perk up an be reachin out like he wants to grap her or somethin, an she start bitchin at him—”Git away from me you awful thing. Keep your hans to yoursef!” But ole Sue has got somethin in mind. That much I can tell.
It ain’t long before I find out what it is. I have gone behin this little partition to take a pee in a jar in private, when all of a sudden I hear this commotion. I stick my head aroun the partition an Sue has managed to grap a holt of Major Fritch an he has got his han down in her space suit. She is yellin an hollerin to beat the band an is crackin Sue over the head with the radio microphone.
Then it dawns on me what the problem is. Wile we has been up in space for nearly two days, ole Sue been strapped into his seat an ain’t had a chance to take a leak or nothin! An I sure remember what that’s like. He must be bout to bust! Anyhow, I go over an got him away from Major Fritch an she still hollerin an yellin, callin him a “filthy animal,” an shit like that. When she get loose, Major Fritch go up to the front of the cockpit an put her head down an start sobbin. I unstrap Sue an take him behin the partition with me.
I find a empty bottle for him to pee in, but after he finished, he take the bottle an heave it into a panel of colored lights an it bust to pieces an all the pee start floatin aroun in the spaceship. I say, to hell with this, an start leadin Sue back to his seat when I seen a big glob of pee headin straight for Major Fritch. It look like it gonna hit her in the back of the head, so I turn Sue loose an try to head off the pee with a net they have give us for catchin stuff that’s floatin aroun. But jus as I am bout to net the glob of pee, Major Fritch sit back up an turn aroun an it caught her right in the face.
She start hollerin an bawlin again an in the meantime, Sue has done gone an started rippin out wires from the control panel. Major Fritch is screamin, “Stop him! Stop him!” but before you know it, sparks an stuff is flyin all aroun inside the spaceship an Sue is jumpin from ceilin to floor tearin shit up. A voice come over the radio wantin to know “What in hell is goin on up there?” but by then it is too late.
The spaceship is weavin all aroun an goin end over end an me, Sue an Major Fritch is tossed aroun like corks. Can’t grap holt of nothin, can’t turn off nothin, can’t stan up or set down. The voice of groun control come over the radio again, say, “We is noticin some kine of minor stabilization trouble with your craft. Forrest, will you manually insert the D-six program into the starboard computer?”
Shit—he got to be jokin! I’m spinnin aroun like a top an I got a wild ape loose in here to boot! Major Fritch is hollerin so loud I cannot hear or even think nothin, but the gist of what she is hollerin seem to be that we is bout to crash an burn. I managed to get a glance out of the winder, an in fact things don’t look good. That earth comin up on us mighty fast.
Somehow I managed to get to where the starboard computer is, an hold on to the panel with one han an I’m puttin D-six into the machine. It is a program designed to land the spaceship in the Indian Ocean in case we get in trouble, which we certainly is now.
Major Fritch an ole Sue be holdin on for dear life, but Major Fritch holler out, “What is you doin over there?” When I tole her, she say, “Forgit that, you stupid turd—we is already done passed over the Indian Ocean. Wait till we go roun again an see if you can set us down in the South Pacific.”
Believe it or not, it don’t take much time to go roun the world when you is in a spaceship, an Major Fritch has grapped holt to the radio microphone an is hollerin at them people at groun control that we is headed for either a splash-down or crash-down in the South Pacific Ocean an to come get us as soon as they can. I’m punchin buttons like crazy an that big ole earth is loomin closer. We fly over somethin Major Fritch thinks look like South America an then there be only water again, with the South Pole off to our left an Australia up ahead.
Then everthing get scorchin hot, an funny little souns are comin from the outside of the spaceship an it start shakin an hissin an the earth is dead up ahead. Major Fritch shout to me, “Pull the parachute lever!” but I am pinned in my seat. An she is pressed up against the ceilin of the cabin, an so it look like it’s curtains for us, since we is goin bout ten thousan miles a hour, an headed straight for a big ole green blob of land in the ocean. We hit that goin this fast, ain’t even gonna be a grease spot lef.
But then all of a sudden somethin go “pop” an the spaceship slow down. I look over, an damn if ole Sue ain’t pulled the parachute lever hissef an saved our asses. I remind mysef then an there to feed him a banana when all this shit is over.
Anyhow, the spaceship be swingin back an forth under the parachute, an it look like we is gonna hit the big ole green blob of land—which apparently ain’t so good neither, since we is sposed only to hit water an then ships will pick us up. But ain’t nothin gone right from the time we set foot in this contraption, so why should anybody expect it to now?
Major Fritch is on the radio an sayin to groun control, “We is bout to land on someplace north of Australia out in the ocean, but I ain’t sure where we is.”
Couple of seconts later a voice come back say, “If you ain’t sure where you is, why don’t you look out the winder, you dumb broad?”
So Major Fritch put the radio down an go look out the winder an she say, “Jesus—this look like Borneo or someplace,” but when she try to tell that to groun control, the radio done gone dead.
We be gettin real close to the earth now, an the spaceship still swinging under the parachute. There is nothin but jungle an mountains beneath us cept for a little bitty lake that is kind of brown. We can barely make out somethin going on nex to the lake down there. The three of us—me, Sue an Major Fritch—all got our noses pressed to the winder lookin down, an all of a sudden Major Fritch cry out, “Good God! This ain’t Borneo—this is fuckin New Guinea, an all that shit on the groun must be one of them Cargo Cults or somethin!”
Sue an me lookin down hard, an there on the groun nex to the lake, lookin back at us, is about a thousan natives, all with they arms raised up towards us. They is wearin little grass skirts an has their hair all flayed out, an some is carryin shields an spears.
“Damn,” I say, “what you say they is?”
“Cargo Cult,” Major Fritch say. “In World War II we used to drop packages of candy an stuff like that on these jungle bunnies to keep em on our side, an they ain’t never forgot it. Figgered it was God or somebody doin it, an ever since, they is waiting for us to come back. Even built crude runways an all—see down there? They has got a landin zone all marked off with them big roun black markers.”
“Them things look more like cookin pots to me,” I says.
“Yeah, they do, sort of,” Major Fritch say curiously.
“Ain’t this where cannibals come from?” I axed.
“I reckon we will soon find out,” she say.
Spaceship is gently swingin towards the lake, an jus afore we hit, they start beatin they drums an movin they mouths up and down. We can’t hear nothin on account of bein in the capsule, but our maginations doin just fine.
14
Our landin in the little lake was not too bad. THEY was a splash an a bounce an then we is back on earth again. Everthin got real quiet, an me an Sue and Major Fritch peek out the winder.
They is a whole tribe of natives standin bout ten feet away on the shore, lookin at us, an they is bout the fiercest-looking folks imaginable—scowlin an leanin forward so’s to see what we is. Major Fritch say maybe they is upset cause we didn’t thow them nothin from the spaceship. Anyhow, she say she is gonna set down an try to figger out what to do now, on account of we has somehow got this far okay an she don’t want to make no false moves with these spooks. Seven or eight of they biggest fellas jumps into the water and begin pushin us over to land.
Major Fritch still be settin there figgerin when there is a big knock at the door of the spaceship. We all look at each other an Major Fritch say, “Don’t nobody do nothin.”
An I say, “Maybe they be gettin angry if we don’t let em in.”
“Just be quiet,” she say, “an maybe they think nobody’s in here an go away.”
So we waited, but sure enough, after a wile they is another knock on the spaceship.
I say, “It ain’t polite not to answer the door,” an Major Fritch hiss back at me, “Shut up your dumbfool ass—can’t you see these people is dangerous?”
Then all of a sudden ole Sue go over an open the door hissef. Standin there outside is the biggest coon I has seen since we played them Nebraska corn shucker jackoffs in the Orange Bowl.
He got a bone thru his nose an is wearin a grass skirt an carryin a spear an has a lot of beads strung aroun his neck, an his hair look somethin like that Beatle wig Mad Tom o’Bedlam wore in the Shakespeare play.
This feller seem extremely startled to find Sue starin back at him from inside the spaceship door. As a matter of fact, he is so suprised that he keel over in a dead faint. Major Fritch an me is peepin out the winder again, an when all them other natives seen this feller keel over, they run off in the shrubs an hide—I guess to wait an see what’s gonna happen nex.
Major Fritch say, “Hole still now—don’t make a move,” but ole Sue, he grapped holt of a bottle that was settin there an he jump out on the groun an pour it in the feller’s face to revive him. All of a sudden the feller set up an start sputterin an coughin an spittin an shakin his head from side to side. He was revived all right, but what Sue had grapped an poured in his face was the bottle what I used to pee in. Then the feller recognize Sue again, an he thowed his hans up an fall over on his face an begin bowin an scrapin like a Arab.
An then out from the bushes come the rest of them, movin slow an scarit-like, eyes big as saucers, ready to thow they spears. The feller on the groun stop bowin for a moment an look up an when he seen the others, he holler out somethin an they put down they spears an come up to the spaceship an gather aroun it.
“They look friendly enough now,” Major Fritch say. “I spose we better go on out an identify ourselfs. The people from NASA will be here in a few minutes to pick us up.” As it turns out, that is the biggest piece of bullshit I have ever heard in my life—before or since.
Anyhow, Major Fritch an me, we walk on out of the spaceship an all them natives goin “ooooh” an “ahhhh.” That ole boy on the groun, he look at us real puzzled-like, but then he get up an say, “Hello—me good boy. Who you?” an he stick out his han.
I shake his han, but then Major Fritch start tryin to tell him who we is, sayin we is, “Participants in the NASA multi-orbital pre-planetary sub-gravitational inter-spheroid space-flight trainin mission.”
The feller jus stan there gapin at us like we was spacemen, an so I says, “We is Americans,” an all of a sudden his eyes light up an he say, “Do tell! Americans! What a jolly fine show—I say!”
“You speak English?” Major Fritch axed.
“Why hell yes,” he say. “I’ve been to America before. During the war. I was recruited by the Office of Strategic Services to learn English, and then sent back here to organize our people in guerrilla warfare against the Japanese.” At this, Sue’s eyes get big an bright.
It seem kinda funny to me, though—a big ole boon like this speaking such good American out in the middle of noplace, so I says, “Where’d you go t’school?”
“Why, I went to Yale, old sport,” he says. “Boola-Boola, an all that.” When he say “boola-boola,” all them other Sambo’s start chantin it too, an the drums start up again, until the big guy wave them quiet.
“My name is Sam,” he say. “At least that’s what they called me at Yale. My real name’s quite a mouthful. What a delight you dropped in. Would you like some tea?”
Me an Major Fritch be lookin at each other. She is damn near speechless, so I says, “Yeah, that’d be good,” an then Major Fritch get her voice back an speak up kind of high-pitched, “You ain’t got a phone we can use, do you?” she say.
Big Sam sort of scowl an wave his hans an the drums start up again an we be escorted into the jungle with everbody chantin “boola-boola.”
They has got theyselfs a little village set up in the jungle with grass huts an shit jus like in the movies, an Big Sam’s hut is the grandest of all. Out in front he got a chair look like a throne, an four or five women wearin nothin on top are doin whatever he say. One of the things he say is for them to get us some tea, an then he point to a couple of big stones for Major Fritch an me to set down on. Sue has been followin along behin us all the way, holdin on to my han, an Big Sam motion for him to set on the groun.
“That’s a terrific ape you have there,” Sam says. “Where’d you get him?”
“He works for NASA,” Major Fritch says. She ain’t lookin none too happy bout our situation.
“You don’t say?” says Big Sam. “Is he paid?”
“I think he’d like a banana,” I says. Big Sam said somethin an one of the woman natives brung Sue a banana.
“I’m awfully sorry,” Big Sam say, “I think I haven’t asked your names.”
“Major Janet Fritch, United States Air Force. Serial number 04534573. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”
“Oh, my dear woman,” says Big Sam. “You are not a prisoner here. We are just poor backward tribesmen. Some say we’ve not progressed much since the Stone Age. We mean you no harm.”
“I ain’t got nothin else to say till I can use the phone,” Major Fritch say.
“Very well then,” says Big Sam. “And what of you, young man?”
“My name is Forrest,” I tell him.
“Really,” he say. “Is that taken from your famous Civil War General Nathan Bedford Forrest?”
“Yep,” I says.
“How very interesting. I say, Forrest, where did you go to school?”
I started to say I went up to the University of Alabama for a wile, but then I decided to play it safe, an so I tole him I went to Harvard, which was not exactly a lie.
“Ah, Harvard—the old Crimson,” Big Sam says. “Yes—I knew it well. Lovely bunch of fellows—even if they couldn’t get into Yale,” an then he start to laugh real loud. “Actually, you do look sort of like a Harvard man at that,” he say. Somehow, I figger that trouble lay ahead.
It was late in the afternoon an Big Sam tole a couple of them native women to show us where we is gonna stay. It is a grass hut with a dirt floor an a little entranceway, an it sort of remind me of the hovel where King Lear went. Two big ole fellers with spears come up an be standin guard outside our door.
All night long them natives be beatin on they drums an chantin “boola-boola,” an we could see out the entrance that they have set up a great big cauldron an built a fire under it. Me an Major Fritch don’t know what to make of all this, but I reckon ole Sue does, cause he settin over in the corner by hissef, lookin glum.
Bout nine or ten o’clock they still ain’t fed us no food, an Major Fritch say maybe I ought to go axe Big Sam for our supper. I start to go out the door of the hovel but them two natives cross they spears in front of me, an I get the message an go back inside. Suddenly it dawn on me how come we ain’t been invited to supper—we is the supper. It is a bleak outlook.
Then the drums quit an they stop chantin “boola-boola.” Outside we hear somebody squawkin an he is answered by somebody else squawkin that sound like Big Sam. That go on for a wile, an the argument get real heated up. Just as it seem like they can’t shout any louder, we hear this big “conk,” which sound like somebody get hit over the head with a board or somethin. Everthing get quiet for a moment, then the drums start up again an everbody chantin “boola-boola” once more.
Next mornin, we settin there an Big Sam come thru the door an he say, “Hello—did you have a nice sleep?”
“Hell no,” Major Fritch say. “How in God’s name does you expect us to sleep with all that racket out there?”
Big Sam get a pained look on his face, an say, “Oh, I’m sorry about that. But you see, my people were, ah, sort of expectin a gift of some sort when they saw your vehicle drop from the sky. We have been waiting since 1945 for the return of your people an their presents to us. When they saw that you had no presents, naturally they assumed that you were the present, and they were prepared to cook you and eat you until I persuaded them otherwise.”
“You’re shittin me, buster,” Major Fritch say.
“To the contrary,” says Big Sam. “You see, my people are not exactly what you would call civilized—at least by your standards—as they have a particular affection for human flesh. Especially white meat.”
“Do you mean to tell me you people are cannibals?” Major Fritch say.
Big Sam shrug his shoulders. “That’s bout the size of it.”
“That’s disgusting,” says Major Fritch. “Listen, you has got to see to it that we is not harmed, an that we get out of here an back to civilization. There is probably a search party from NASA about to arrive any minute. I demand that you treat us with the dignity you would accord any allied nation.”
“Ah,” Big Sam say, “that was precisely what they had in mind last night.”
“Now see here!” says Major Fritch. “I demand that we be set free this instant, and allowed to make our way to the nearest city or town where there is a telephone.”
“I am afraid,” Big Sam say, “that would be impossible. Even if we did turn you loose, the pygmies would get you before you went a hundred yards into the jungle.”
“Pygmies?” say Major Fritch.
“We have been at war with the pygmies for many generations. Somebody stole a pig once, I think—nobody remembers who or where—it is lost in legend. But we are virtually surrounded by the pygmies, and have been ever since anyone can remember.”
“Well,” says Major Fritch, “I’d rather us take our chances with pygmies than with a bunch of fucking cannibals—the pygmies ain’t cannibals, is they?”
“No, madam,” Big Sam say, “they are head-hunters.”
“Terrific,” Major Fritch say sourly.
“Now last night,” Big Sam says, “I managed to save you from the cooking pot, but I am not sure how long I can keep my people at bay. They are determined to turn your appearance into some sort of gain.”
“Is that so?” Major Fritch says. “Like what?”
“Well, for one thing, your ape. I think they would at least like to be able to eat him.”
“That ape is the sole property of the United States of America,” says Major Fritch.
“Nonetheless,” Big Sam says, “I think it would be a diplomatic gesture on your part.”
Ole Sue be frownin an noddin his head slowly an lookin sorrowfully out the door.
“And then,” Big Sam continue, “I think that wile you are here, you could perhaps do some work for us.”
“What sort of work?” Major Fritch say suspiciously.
“Well,” say Big Sam, “farming work. Agriculture. You see, I have been trying to improve the ignominious lot of my people for many years. And not too long ago I stumbled on an idea. If we can simply turn the fertile soil here to our advantage, and bring to it some of the modern techniques of agronomy, we might thus begin to haul ourselves out of our tribal predicament and assume a role in the world marketplace. In short, turn ourselves away from this backward and stale economy and become a viable, cultured race of peoples.”
“What kind of farming?” Major Fritch axed.
“Cotton, my dear woman, cotton! King of cash crops! The plant that built an empire in your own country some years ago.”
“You expectin us to grow cotton!” Major Fritch squawked.
“You bet your sweet ass I do, sister,” Big Sam say.
They is a whole tribe of natives standin bout ten feet away on the shore, lookin at us, an they is bout the fiercest-looking folks imaginable—scowlin an leanin forward so’s to see what we is. Major Fritch say maybe they is upset cause we didn’t thow them nothin from the spaceship. Anyhow, she say she is gonna set down an try to figger out what to do now, on account of we has somehow got this far okay an she don’t want to make no false moves with these spooks. Seven or eight of they biggest fellas jumps into the water and begin pushin us over to land.
Major Fritch still be settin there figgerin when there is a big knock at the door of the spaceship. We all look at each other an Major Fritch say, “Don’t nobody do nothin.”
An I say, “Maybe they be gettin angry if we don’t let em in.”
“Just be quiet,” she say, “an maybe they think nobody’s in here an go away.”
So we waited, but sure enough, after a wile they is another knock on the spaceship.
I say, “It ain’t polite not to answer the door,” an Major Fritch hiss back at me, “Shut up your dumbfool ass—can’t you see these people is dangerous?”
Then all of a sudden ole Sue go over an open the door hissef. Standin there outside is the biggest coon I has seen since we played them Nebraska corn shucker jackoffs in the Orange Bowl.
He got a bone thru his nose an is wearin a grass skirt an carryin a spear an has a lot of beads strung aroun his neck, an his hair look somethin like that Beatle wig Mad Tom o’Bedlam wore in the Shakespeare play.
This feller seem extremely startled to find Sue starin back at him from inside the spaceship door. As a matter of fact, he is so suprised that he keel over in a dead faint. Major Fritch an me is peepin out the winder again, an when all them other natives seen this feller keel over, they run off in the shrubs an hide—I guess to wait an see what’s gonna happen nex.
Major Fritch say, “Hole still now—don’t make a move,” but ole Sue, he grapped holt of a bottle that was settin there an he jump out on the groun an pour it in the feller’s face to revive him. All of a sudden the feller set up an start sputterin an coughin an spittin an shakin his head from side to side. He was revived all right, but what Sue had grapped an poured in his face was the bottle what I used to pee in. Then the feller recognize Sue again, an he thowed his hans up an fall over on his face an begin bowin an scrapin like a Arab.
An then out from the bushes come the rest of them, movin slow an scarit-like, eyes big as saucers, ready to thow they spears. The feller on the groun stop bowin for a moment an look up an when he seen the others, he holler out somethin an they put down they spears an come up to the spaceship an gather aroun it.
“They look friendly enough now,” Major Fritch say. “I spose we better go on out an identify ourselfs. The people from NASA will be here in a few minutes to pick us up.” As it turns out, that is the biggest piece of bullshit I have ever heard in my life—before or since.
Anyhow, Major Fritch an me, we walk on out of the spaceship an all them natives goin “ooooh” an “ahhhh.” That ole boy on the groun, he look at us real puzzled-like, but then he get up an say, “Hello—me good boy. Who you?” an he stick out his han.
I shake his han, but then Major Fritch start tryin to tell him who we is, sayin we is, “Participants in the NASA multi-orbital pre-planetary sub-gravitational inter-spheroid space-flight trainin mission.”
The feller jus stan there gapin at us like we was spacemen, an so I says, “We is Americans,” an all of a sudden his eyes light up an he say, “Do tell! Americans! What a jolly fine show—I say!”
“You speak English?” Major Fritch axed.
“Why hell yes,” he say. “I’ve been to America before. During the war. I was recruited by the Office of Strategic Services to learn English, and then sent back here to organize our people in guerrilla warfare against the Japanese.” At this, Sue’s eyes get big an bright.
It seem kinda funny to me, though—a big ole boon like this speaking such good American out in the middle of noplace, so I says, “Where’d you go t’school?”
“Why, I went to Yale, old sport,” he says. “Boola-Boola, an all that.” When he say “boola-boola,” all them other Sambo’s start chantin it too, an the drums start up again, until the big guy wave them quiet.
“My name is Sam,” he say. “At least that’s what they called me at Yale. My real name’s quite a mouthful. What a delight you dropped in. Would you like some tea?”
Me an Major Fritch be lookin at each other. She is damn near speechless, so I says, “Yeah, that’d be good,” an then Major Fritch get her voice back an speak up kind of high-pitched, “You ain’t got a phone we can use, do you?” she say.
Big Sam sort of scowl an wave his hans an the drums start up again an we be escorted into the jungle with everbody chantin “boola-boola.”
They has got theyselfs a little village set up in the jungle with grass huts an shit jus like in the movies, an Big Sam’s hut is the grandest of all. Out in front he got a chair look like a throne, an four or five women wearin nothin on top are doin whatever he say. One of the things he say is for them to get us some tea, an then he point to a couple of big stones for Major Fritch an me to set down on. Sue has been followin along behin us all the way, holdin on to my han, an Big Sam motion for him to set on the groun.
“That’s a terrific ape you have there,” Sam says. “Where’d you get him?”
“He works for NASA,” Major Fritch says. She ain’t lookin none too happy bout our situation.
“You don’t say?” says Big Sam. “Is he paid?”
“I think he’d like a banana,” I says. Big Sam said somethin an one of the woman natives brung Sue a banana.
“I’m awfully sorry,” Big Sam say, “I think I haven’t asked your names.”
“Major Janet Fritch, United States Air Force. Serial number 04534573. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”
“Oh, my dear woman,” says Big Sam. “You are not a prisoner here. We are just poor backward tribesmen. Some say we’ve not progressed much since the Stone Age. We mean you no harm.”
“I ain’t got nothin else to say till I can use the phone,” Major Fritch say.
“Very well then,” says Big Sam. “And what of you, young man?”
“My name is Forrest,” I tell him.
“Really,” he say. “Is that taken from your famous Civil War General Nathan Bedford Forrest?”
“Yep,” I says.
“How very interesting. I say, Forrest, where did you go to school?”
I started to say I went up to the University of Alabama for a wile, but then I decided to play it safe, an so I tole him I went to Harvard, which was not exactly a lie.
“Ah, Harvard—the old Crimson,” Big Sam says. “Yes—I knew it well. Lovely bunch of fellows—even if they couldn’t get into Yale,” an then he start to laugh real loud. “Actually, you do look sort of like a Harvard man at that,” he say. Somehow, I figger that trouble lay ahead.
It was late in the afternoon an Big Sam tole a couple of them native women to show us where we is gonna stay. It is a grass hut with a dirt floor an a little entranceway, an it sort of remind me of the hovel where King Lear went. Two big ole fellers with spears come up an be standin guard outside our door.
All night long them natives be beatin on they drums an chantin “boola-boola,” an we could see out the entrance that they have set up a great big cauldron an built a fire under it. Me an Major Fritch don’t know what to make of all this, but I reckon ole Sue does, cause he settin over in the corner by hissef, lookin glum.
Bout nine or ten o’clock they still ain’t fed us no food, an Major Fritch say maybe I ought to go axe Big Sam for our supper. I start to go out the door of the hovel but them two natives cross they spears in front of me, an I get the message an go back inside. Suddenly it dawn on me how come we ain’t been invited to supper—we is the supper. It is a bleak outlook.
Then the drums quit an they stop chantin “boola-boola.” Outside we hear somebody squawkin an he is answered by somebody else squawkin that sound like Big Sam. That go on for a wile, an the argument get real heated up. Just as it seem like they can’t shout any louder, we hear this big “conk,” which sound like somebody get hit over the head with a board or somethin. Everthing get quiet for a moment, then the drums start up again an everbody chantin “boola-boola” once more.
Next mornin, we settin there an Big Sam come thru the door an he say, “Hello—did you have a nice sleep?”
“Hell no,” Major Fritch say. “How in God’s name does you expect us to sleep with all that racket out there?”
Big Sam get a pained look on his face, an say, “Oh, I’m sorry about that. But you see, my people were, ah, sort of expectin a gift of some sort when they saw your vehicle drop from the sky. We have been waiting since 1945 for the return of your people an their presents to us. When they saw that you had no presents, naturally they assumed that you were the present, and they were prepared to cook you and eat you until I persuaded them otherwise.”
“You’re shittin me, buster,” Major Fritch say.
“To the contrary,” says Big Sam. “You see, my people are not exactly what you would call civilized—at least by your standards—as they have a particular affection for human flesh. Especially white meat.”
“Do you mean to tell me you people are cannibals?” Major Fritch say.
Big Sam shrug his shoulders. “That’s bout the size of it.”
“That’s disgusting,” says Major Fritch. “Listen, you has got to see to it that we is not harmed, an that we get out of here an back to civilization. There is probably a search party from NASA about to arrive any minute. I demand that you treat us with the dignity you would accord any allied nation.”
“Ah,” Big Sam say, “that was precisely what they had in mind last night.”
“Now see here!” says Major Fritch. “I demand that we be set free this instant, and allowed to make our way to the nearest city or town where there is a telephone.”
“I am afraid,” Big Sam say, “that would be impossible. Even if we did turn you loose, the pygmies would get you before you went a hundred yards into the jungle.”
“Pygmies?” say Major Fritch.
“We have been at war with the pygmies for many generations. Somebody stole a pig once, I think—nobody remembers who or where—it is lost in legend. But we are virtually surrounded by the pygmies, and have been ever since anyone can remember.”
“Well,” says Major Fritch, “I’d rather us take our chances with pygmies than with a bunch of fucking cannibals—the pygmies ain’t cannibals, is they?”
“No, madam,” Big Sam say, “they are head-hunters.”
“Terrific,” Major Fritch say sourly.
“Now last night,” Big Sam says, “I managed to save you from the cooking pot, but I am not sure how long I can keep my people at bay. They are determined to turn your appearance into some sort of gain.”
“Is that so?” Major Fritch says. “Like what?”
“Well, for one thing, your ape. I think they would at least like to be able to eat him.”
“That ape is the sole property of the United States of America,” says Major Fritch.
“Nonetheless,” Big Sam says, “I think it would be a diplomatic gesture on your part.”
Ole Sue be frownin an noddin his head slowly an lookin sorrowfully out the door.
“And then,” Big Sam continue, “I think that wile you are here, you could perhaps do some work for us.”
“What sort of work?” Major Fritch say suspiciously.
“Well,” say Big Sam, “farming work. Agriculture. You see, I have been trying to improve the ignominious lot of my people for many years. And not too long ago I stumbled on an idea. If we can simply turn the fertile soil here to our advantage, and bring to it some of the modern techniques of agronomy, we might thus begin to haul ourselves out of our tribal predicament and assume a role in the world marketplace. In short, turn ourselves away from this backward and stale economy and become a viable, cultured race of peoples.”
“What kind of farming?” Major Fritch axed.
“Cotton, my dear woman, cotton! King of cash crops! The plant that built an empire in your own country some years ago.”
“You expectin us to grow cotton!” Major Fritch squawked.
“You bet your sweet ass I do, sister,” Big Sam say.
15
Well, here we is, Plantin Cotton. Acres an acres an acres of it. All up an down the whole creation. If they is anythin sure in my life, it is that if we ever get our asses outta here, I don’t never want to be no cotton farmer.
Several things done happened after that first day in the jungle with Big Sam an the cannibals. First, Major Fritch an me has convinced Big Sam not to make us give po ole Sue to his tribe to eat. We has persuaded him that Sue would be of a lot more use heppin us plant the cotton than he would be as a meal. An so ever day there is ole Sue out there with us, wear-in a big straw hat an carryin a gunnysack, plantin cotton.
Also, bout the third or forth week we was there, Big Sam come into our hovel an say, “Look here, Forrest old boy, do you play chess?”
An I says, “No.”
An he say, “Well, you’re a Harvard man, you might like to learn.”
An I nod my head, an that’s how I learnt to play chess.
Ever evenin when we is thru work in the cotton fields, Big Sam’d get out his chess set an we’d set aroun the fire an play till late at night. He showed me all the moves, an for the first few days he taught me strategy. But after that, he quit doin it cause I beat him a game or two.
After a wile, the games get longer. Sometime they last for several days, as Big Sam can not make up his mind where to move to. He’d sit an study them chessmen an then he’d do somethin with one of them, but I always managed to beat him. Sometimes he’d get real angry with hissef, an pound on his foot with a stick or butt his head against a rock or somethin.
“For a Harvard man, you is a pretty good chess player,” he’d say, or he’d say, “See here, Forrest—why did you make that last move?” I wouldn’t say nothin, or jus shrug my shoulders, an that woud send Big Sam into a rage.
One day he say, “You know, Forrest, I am surely glad you have come here, so I can have somebody to play chess with, an I am glad I have saved you from that cooking pot. Only thing is, I really would like to win jus one chess game from you.”
At that, Big Sam be lickin his chops, an it didn’t take no idiot to figger out that if I let him win jus one game, he was gonna be satisfied, an have me for his supper, then an there. Kinda kep me on my toes, if you know what I mean.
Meantime, a very strange thing has happened with Major Fritch.
One day she is walkin back from the cotton fields with Sue an me, when a big ole black arm poke out from a clump of bushes an beckon her over. Me an Sue stopped, an Major Fritch walk over to the clump of bushes an say, “Who’s that in there?” All of a sudden, the big ole arm reached out an grapped a holt of Major Fritch an snatched her into the bush. Sue an me looked at each other an then run over to where she was. Sue got there first an I was about to leap into the bushes mysef, when Sue stop me. He start shakin his head an wavin me away, an we walked off a little bit an waited. They was all sorts of souns comin from in there, an the bushes is shakin like crazy. I finally figgered out what was goin on, but from the soun of Major Fritch’s voice, it didn’t appear she was in no danger or nothin, so Sue an me went on back to the village.
Bout a hour later, here come Major Fritch an this great big ole feller who is grinnin ear-to-ear. She has got him by the han, leadin him along. She bring him into the hovel an say to me, “Forrest, I want you to meet Grurck,” an she lead him forward.
“Hi,” I say. I had seen this feller aroun the village before. Grurck be grinnin an noddin an I nodded back. Sue, he be scratchin his balls.
“Grurck done axed me to move in with him,” she say, “an I think I will, since it is sort of crowded in here for the three of us, wouldn’t you say?”
I nod my head.
“Forrest. You wouldn’t tell nobody bout this, would you?” Major Fritch axed.
Now who in hell was she thinkin I would tell, is what I want to know? But I just shook my head, an Major Fritch got her shit an went off with Grurck to his place. An that’s the way it was.
The days an months an finally the years come an go, an ever day me an Sue an Major Fritch be workin in the cotton fields, an I am beginnin to feel like Uncle Remus or somebody. At night, after I finish wuppin Big Sam at chess, I go into the hovel with ole Sue an we set aroun for a wile. It has got to where Sue an me can sort of talk to each other, gruntin an makin faces an wavin our hans. After a long time I am able to piece together his life story, an it turn out to be bout as sorry as mine.
When he was jus a little bitty ape, Sue’s mama an poppa was walkin in the jungle one day when these guys come along an thowed a net over them, an drug them off. He managed to get on with an aunt an uncle till they kicked him out for eatin too much, an then he was on his own.
He was okay, jus swingin in the trees an eatin bananas till one day he got curious bout what is goin on in the rest of the world, an he swang hissef thru tree after tree till he come on a village near the edge of the jungle. He is thirsty an come down an set by a stream to drink some water when this feller come by paddlin a canoe. Sue ain’t never seen a canoe, so he set there watchin it an the feller paddle over to him. He think the feller want to give him a ride, but instead, the feller conked Sue over the head with his oar an hog-tied him an nex thing he knew, he was sold to some guy that put him in a exhibit in Paris.
There was this other orangutang in the exhibit, name of Doris, what was one of the finest-looking apes he had ever seed, an after a wile, they fell in love. The guy that had the exhibit took them aroun the world, an everplace he’d go, the main attraction was to put Doris an Sue together in a cage so’s everbody could watch them screw—that was the kind of exhibit it was. Anyway, it was kinda embarrassin for ole Sue, but it were the only chance they had.
Then one time they was on exhibit in Japan, an some guy come up to the feller running the show an offer to buy Doris. So off she went, Sue knowed not where, an he was by hissef.
That caused a definate change in Sue’s attitude. He got grouchy, an when they put him on display, he took to growlin an snarlin an finally he begun takin a shit an then flingin the shit thru the cage bars all over them people what had paid their good money to see what an orangutang acts like.
After a wile of this, the exhibit feller got fed up an sold Sue to the NASA people an that’s how come he wind up here. I know how he feels a little, cause he’s still lonesome for Doris, an I’m still lonesome for Jenny Curran, an ain’t a day go by I ain’t wonderin what’s become of her. But here we both is, stuck out in the middle of nowhere.
The cotton farmin adventure of Big Sam’s is beyon anyone’s wildest dreams. We has sowed an harvested bale after bale, an they is storin it in big grass shacks built up off the groun. Finally one day, Big Sam say they is fixin to construct a big boat—a barge—to load up the cotton an fight our way thru pygmy country down to where we can sell the cotton an make a fortune.
“I have got it all figured out,” Big Sam says. “First we auction off the cotton and get our money. Then we will use it to buy the kinds of things my people need.”
Several things done happened after that first day in the jungle with Big Sam an the cannibals. First, Major Fritch an me has convinced Big Sam not to make us give po ole Sue to his tribe to eat. We has persuaded him that Sue would be of a lot more use heppin us plant the cotton than he would be as a meal. An so ever day there is ole Sue out there with us, wear-in a big straw hat an carryin a gunnysack, plantin cotton.
Also, bout the third or forth week we was there, Big Sam come into our hovel an say, “Look here, Forrest old boy, do you play chess?”
An I says, “No.”
An he say, “Well, you’re a Harvard man, you might like to learn.”
An I nod my head, an that’s how I learnt to play chess.
Ever evenin when we is thru work in the cotton fields, Big Sam’d get out his chess set an we’d set aroun the fire an play till late at night. He showed me all the moves, an for the first few days he taught me strategy. But after that, he quit doin it cause I beat him a game or two.
After a wile, the games get longer. Sometime they last for several days, as Big Sam can not make up his mind where to move to. He’d sit an study them chessmen an then he’d do somethin with one of them, but I always managed to beat him. Sometimes he’d get real angry with hissef, an pound on his foot with a stick or butt his head against a rock or somethin.
“For a Harvard man, you is a pretty good chess player,” he’d say, or he’d say, “See here, Forrest—why did you make that last move?” I wouldn’t say nothin, or jus shrug my shoulders, an that woud send Big Sam into a rage.
One day he say, “You know, Forrest, I am surely glad you have come here, so I can have somebody to play chess with, an I am glad I have saved you from that cooking pot. Only thing is, I really would like to win jus one chess game from you.”
At that, Big Sam be lickin his chops, an it didn’t take no idiot to figger out that if I let him win jus one game, he was gonna be satisfied, an have me for his supper, then an there. Kinda kep me on my toes, if you know what I mean.
Meantime, a very strange thing has happened with Major Fritch.
One day she is walkin back from the cotton fields with Sue an me, when a big ole black arm poke out from a clump of bushes an beckon her over. Me an Sue stopped, an Major Fritch walk over to the clump of bushes an say, “Who’s that in there?” All of a sudden, the big ole arm reached out an grapped a holt of Major Fritch an snatched her into the bush. Sue an me looked at each other an then run over to where she was. Sue got there first an I was about to leap into the bushes mysef, when Sue stop me. He start shakin his head an wavin me away, an we walked off a little bit an waited. They was all sorts of souns comin from in there, an the bushes is shakin like crazy. I finally figgered out what was goin on, but from the soun of Major Fritch’s voice, it didn’t appear she was in no danger or nothin, so Sue an me went on back to the village.
Bout a hour later, here come Major Fritch an this great big ole feller who is grinnin ear-to-ear. She has got him by the han, leadin him along. She bring him into the hovel an say to me, “Forrest, I want you to meet Grurck,” an she lead him forward.
“Hi,” I say. I had seen this feller aroun the village before. Grurck be grinnin an noddin an I nodded back. Sue, he be scratchin his balls.
“Grurck done axed me to move in with him,” she say, “an I think I will, since it is sort of crowded in here for the three of us, wouldn’t you say?”
I nod my head.
“Forrest. You wouldn’t tell nobody bout this, would you?” Major Fritch axed.
Now who in hell was she thinkin I would tell, is what I want to know? But I just shook my head, an Major Fritch got her shit an went off with Grurck to his place. An that’s the way it was.
The days an months an finally the years come an go, an ever day me an Sue an Major Fritch be workin in the cotton fields, an I am beginnin to feel like Uncle Remus or somebody. At night, after I finish wuppin Big Sam at chess, I go into the hovel with ole Sue an we set aroun for a wile. It has got to where Sue an me can sort of talk to each other, gruntin an makin faces an wavin our hans. After a long time I am able to piece together his life story, an it turn out to be bout as sorry as mine.
When he was jus a little bitty ape, Sue’s mama an poppa was walkin in the jungle one day when these guys come along an thowed a net over them, an drug them off. He managed to get on with an aunt an uncle till they kicked him out for eatin too much, an then he was on his own.
He was okay, jus swingin in the trees an eatin bananas till one day he got curious bout what is goin on in the rest of the world, an he swang hissef thru tree after tree till he come on a village near the edge of the jungle. He is thirsty an come down an set by a stream to drink some water when this feller come by paddlin a canoe. Sue ain’t never seen a canoe, so he set there watchin it an the feller paddle over to him. He think the feller want to give him a ride, but instead, the feller conked Sue over the head with his oar an hog-tied him an nex thing he knew, he was sold to some guy that put him in a exhibit in Paris.
There was this other orangutang in the exhibit, name of Doris, what was one of the finest-looking apes he had ever seed, an after a wile, they fell in love. The guy that had the exhibit took them aroun the world, an everplace he’d go, the main attraction was to put Doris an Sue together in a cage so’s everbody could watch them screw—that was the kind of exhibit it was. Anyway, it was kinda embarrassin for ole Sue, but it were the only chance they had.
Then one time they was on exhibit in Japan, an some guy come up to the feller running the show an offer to buy Doris. So off she went, Sue knowed not where, an he was by hissef.
That caused a definate change in Sue’s attitude. He got grouchy, an when they put him on display, he took to growlin an snarlin an finally he begun takin a shit an then flingin the shit thru the cage bars all over them people what had paid their good money to see what an orangutang acts like.
After a wile of this, the exhibit feller got fed up an sold Sue to the NASA people an that’s how come he wind up here. I know how he feels a little, cause he’s still lonesome for Doris, an I’m still lonesome for Jenny Curran, an ain’t a day go by I ain’t wonderin what’s become of her. But here we both is, stuck out in the middle of nowhere.
The cotton farmin adventure of Big Sam’s is beyon anyone’s wildest dreams. We has sowed an harvested bale after bale, an they is storin it in big grass shacks built up off the groun. Finally one day, Big Sam say they is fixin to construct a big boat—a barge—to load up the cotton an fight our way thru pygmy country down to where we can sell the cotton an make a fortune.
“I have got it all figured out,” Big Sam says. “First we auction off the cotton and get our money. Then we will use it to buy the kinds of things my people need.”