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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
9

   Here I am, halfway roun the world again, this time in Peking, China.
   The other people that play on the ping-pong team are real nice fellers what come from ever walk of life, an they is specially nice to me. The Chinamen is nice, too, an they is very different sorts of gooks from what I seen in Vietnam. First off, they is neat an clean an very polite. Second, they is not tryin to murder me.
   The American State Department have sent a feller with us who is there to tell us how to behave aroun the Chinamen, an of all I have met, he is the only one not so nice. In fact, he is a turd. Mister Wilkins is his name, an he have a little thin moustache and always carry a briefcase an worry about whether or not his shoes is shined an his pants is pressed or his shirt is clean. I bet in the mornin he get up an spit-shines his asshole.
   Mister Wilkins is always on my case. “Gump,” he say, “when a Chinaman bow to you, you gotta bow back. Gump, you gotta quit adjustin yoursef in public. Gump, what are them stains on your trousers? Gump, you have got the table manners of a hog.”
   In that last, maybe he is right. Them Chinamen eat with two little sticks an it is almost impossible to shovel any food in your mouth with em, an so a lot of it wind up on my clothes. No wonder you do not see a lot of fat Chinamen aroun. You would think they would of learnt to use a fork by now.
   Anyway, we is playin a whole lot of matches against the Chinamen an they has got some very good players. But we is holdin our own. At night they has almost always got somethin for us to do, such as go out for supper someplace, or listen to a concert. One night, we is all sposed to go out to a restaurant called the Peking Duck, an when I get down to the lobby of the hotel, Mister Wilkins say, “Gump, you has got to go back to your room an change that shirt. It look like you has been in a food fight or somethin.” He take me over to the hotel desk an get a Chinaman who speak English to write a little note for me, saying in Chinese that I am goin to the Peking Duck restaurant, an tell me to give it to the cab driver.
   “We are going ahead,” Mister Wilkins say. “You give the driver the note an he will take you there.” So I gone on back to my room an put on a new shirt.
   Anyhow, I find a cab in front of the hotel an get in, an he drive away. I be searchin for the note to give him, but by the time I figger out I must of lef it in my dirty shirt, we is long gone in the middle of town. The driver keep jabberin back at me, I reckon he’s axin me where I want to go, an I keep sayin, “Peking Duck, Peking Duck,” but he be thowin up his hans an givin me a tour of the city.
   All this go on for bout a hour, an let me tell you, I have seed some sights. Finally I tap him on the shoulder an when he turn aroun, I say, “Peking Duck,” an start to flap my arms like they is ducks’ wings. All of a sudden, the driver get a big ole smile, an he start noddin an drive off. Ever once in a wile he look back at me, an I start flappin my wings again. Bout a hour later, he stop an I look out the winder an damn if he ain’t took me to the airport!
   Well, by this time, it is gettin late, an I ain’t had no dinner or nothin, an I’m gettin bout starved, so we pass this restaurant an I tole the driver to let me out. I han him a wad of this gook money they give us, an he han me some back an away he go.
   I went in the restaurant an set down an I might as well of been on the moon. This lady come over an look at me real funny, an han me a menu, but it is in Chinese, so after a wile, I jus point to four or five different things an figger one of them has to be eatable. Actually, they was all pretty good. When I am thru, I paid up an went on out on the street an try to fine my way back to the hotel, but I be walkin for hours I guess, when they pick me up.
   Next thing I knowed, I has been thown in jail. They is a big ole Chinaman what speak English, an he is axin me all sorts of questions an offerin me cigarettes, jus like they did in them old movies. It were the nex afternoon before they finally got me out; Mister Wilkins come down to the jail an he is talkin for bout a hour, an they let me go.
   Mister Wilkins is hoppin mad. “Do you realize, Gump, that they think you are a spy?” he say. “Do you know what this can do to this whole effort? Are you crazy?”
   I started to tell him, “No, I is jus a idiot,” but I let it go. Anyhow, after that, Mister Wilkins buy a big balloon from a street vender an tied it on my shirt button, so he can tell where I is “at all times.” Also, from then on, he pinned a note on my lapel, sayin who I was an where I am stayin. It made me feel like a fool.

   One day they load us up in a bus an take us way out of town to a big river an they is a lot of Chinamen standin aroun lookin official an all, an the reason, we find out soon enough, is that the head Chinaman of them all, Chairman Mao, is there.
   Chairman Mao is a big ole fat Budda-lookin guy, an he has taken off his pajaymas an is in his swimming trunks an they says Chairman Mao at the age of eighty is gonna swim this river by hissef an they want us to watch him do it.
   Well, the Chairman, he wade on in an start swimming an folks is takin pichers an all them other Chinamen be chatterin away an lookin pleased. He is bout halfway cross the river, when he stop an raise his han an wave at us. Everbody wave back.
   Bout a minute later, he wave again, an everbody wave back.
   Not too long after that, Chairman Mao wave for a third time, an suddenly it begun to dawn on everbody that he is not waving, he is drownin!
   Well, the shit done hit the fan, an I finally understan what a “Chinese Fire Drill” is. People is jumpin in the water an boats is racin out from the other side of the river an everbody on shore is cryin an leapin up an down an smackin they palms against the side of they heads. I say, the hell with this, cause I saw where he went under, an I thowed off my shoes an into the river I went. I past all the Chinamen who was swimming out there an got to the place where Chairman Mao had gone under. The boat be circlin, an people lookin over the sides like they is gonna see somethin, which was kind of silly since the river is bout the same color as sewer water back home.
   Anyhow, I dived down three or four times an sure enough, I bumped into the ole bastid floatin aroun underwater. I haul him up an some Chinamen grapped him an thowed him in the boat an took off. Didn’t even bother to take me along, an so’s I have got to swim all the way back by mysef.
   When I get to the bank, all the people there be jumpin up an down an cryin an slappin me on the back, an they pick me up an carry me on they shoulders to the bus. But when we is on the road again, Mister Wilkins come up to me an be shakin his head. “You big dumb goof,” he say, “do you not realize that the best thing that could of happened for the United States was to let that sumbitch drown! You, Gump, is lost us the opportunity of a lifetime.”
   So I guess I done screwed up again. I dunno. I am still jus try in to do the right thing.

   We is about thru with the ping-pong games, an I have lost count of who is winnin or losin. But what has happen in the meanwhile is that on account of my pullin ole Chairman Mao out of the river, I has become sort of a national hero to the Chinamen.
   “Gump,” Mister Wilkins say, “your stupidity seems to have turned into an advantage. I have received a report that the Chinese envoy would like to start discussions bout the possibility of reopening foreign relations with us. Furthermore, the Chinese wish to thow you a big parade thru downtown Peking, an so I expect you to be on your good behavior.”
   They helt the parade two days later, an it were a sight to see. They was bout a billion Chinamen along the streets, an they was wavin an bowin an all when I went by. The thing was sposed to wind up at the Kumingtang, which is like the capitol of China, an I am sposed to get thanked by Chairman Mao personally.
   When we get there, the Chairman is all dried out an glad to see me. They has put on a big spread for lunch an I get to sit nex to the Chairman hissef. In the middle of the lunch, he lean over to me an say, “I have heard you was in Vietnam. May I ask what you think of the war?” An interpreter translate that for me, an I think about it for a moment or two, but then I figger, what the hell, if he didn’t want to know, he wouldn’t of axed, an so I say, “I think it’s a bunch of shit.”
   The interpreter translate that back to him, an Chairman Mao get a odd expression on his face, an look at me funny, but then his eyes light up an he break out with a big smile, an start shakin my han an noddin his head like one of them little dolls with a spring for a neck. People took pitchers of that, an afterward they was in the American newspapers. But I ain’t never tole nobody till now what I said to make him smile that way.

   The day we lef, we is goin out of the hotel an they is a big crowd watchin us leave an cheerin an clappin. I look over an they is this Chinese mama with a little boy on her shoulders, an I can see he is a real Mongolian idiot—eyes all crossed, tongue hangin out, droolin an babbling like them kinds of idiots do. Well, I can’t hep mysef. Mister Wilkins have ordered us not to never go up to any Chinamen without first gettin his permission, but I went on over there an I got me a couple of ping-pong balls in my pocket an I take one of em out an get a pen an put my X on it an give it to the little boy. Firs thing he does is put it in his mouth, but then, when that all straightened out, he reach out an grap my fingers with his han. An then he start to smile—great big ole grin—an all of a sudden I seen tears in his mama’s eyes, an she start chatterin, an our interpreter say to me that is the first time the little feller have ever smiled. They is things I could tell her, I guess, but we ain’t got time.
   Anyway, I start to walk away an the little boy done thowed the ping pong ball an bounce it off the back of my head. It were jus my luck that somebody got a photograph right at that moment, an, of course, it wound up in the newspapers. “Young Chinese Displays His Hatred of American Capitalists,” the caption said.
   Anyway, Mister Wilkins come up an drag me away an fore I know it, we is on the plane an flyin high. Last thing he says to me afore we land back in Washington is, “Well, Gump, I spose you know about the Chinese custom that if you save a Chinaman’s life, you is responsible for it forever.” He have a nasty little smile on his face, an he is settin next to me on the plane an they has just tole us not to get up an to fasten our seatbelts. Well, I jus look over at him an cut the biggest fart of my life. It soun somethin like a buzz saw. Mister Wilkins’ eyes bugged out an he say, “Argggg!” an start fannin the air an tryin to unloosen his seatbelt.
   A pretty stewardess come runnin up to see what all the commotion is about an Mister Wilkins is coughin an choakin an all of a sudden I done started fannin the air mysef an holdin my nose an pointin at Mister Wilkins, an shoutin, “Somebody open a winder,” an shit like that. Mister Wilkins, he get all red in the face an begin protestin an pointin back at me, but the stewardess, she jus smiled an gone on back to her seat. After he quit sputterin an all, Mister Wilkins start adjustin his collar an say to me under his breath, “Gump, that was a extremely crude thing to do.” But I jus grinned an looked straight ahead.

   They sent me back to Fort Dix after that, but instead of puttin me in the Steam Heat Company, I am tole they is lettin me out of the Army early. It don’t take but a day or so, an then I am gone. They give me some money for a ticket home, an I have got a few dollars mysef. Now I got to decide what to do.
   I know I ought to go on home an see my mama, cause she’s in the po house an all. I think maybe I ought to get started with the little srimp bidness, too, an begin to make somethin of my life, but all this time, in the back of my mind, I have been thinkin of Jenny Curran up at Harvard University. I got a bus to the train station, an all the way there I am tryin to figger what is the right thing to do. But when the time come to buy my ticket, I tole them I wanted to go to Boston. There are jus times when you can’t let the right thing stand in yo way.
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
10

   I did not have no address for Jenny cept a post office box, but I did have her letter with the name of the little place where she said she was playin with her band, The Cracked Eggs. It was called the Hodaddy Club. I tried to walk there from the train station, but I kep gettin lost, so I finally took a taxicab. It was in the afternoon an there was nobody in there but a couple of drunk guys an bout a half inch of beer on the floor from the night before. But they was a feller behin the bar say Jenny an them will be there bout nine o’clock. I axed if I can wait, an the guy say, “Sure,” so I set down for five or six hours an took a load off my feet. Directly, the place begun to fill up. They was mostly college-lookin kids but was dressed like geeks at a sideshow. Everbody wearin dirty blue jeans an tee shirts an all the guys had beards an wore glasses an all the girls have hair that look like a bird gonna fly out of it any secont. Presently the band come out on stage an start settin up. They is three or four fellers an they has got all this huge electric stuff, pluggin it in everwhere. It certainly is a far cry from what we done in the Student Union building back at the University. Also, I do not see Jenny Curran noplace.
   After they get the electric stuff set up, they start to play, an let me say this: them people was loud! All sorts of colored lights begin to flash an the music they is makin sound sort of like a jet airplane when it takin off. But the crowd lovin it an when they is done, everbody begin to cheer an yell. Then a light fall on a side of the stage an there she is—Jenny hersef!
   She is changed from the way I known her. First, she is got hair down to her ass, an is wearin sunglasses inside, at night! She is dressed in blue jeans an a shirt with so many spangles on it she look like a telephone switchboard. The band start up again an Jenny begun to sing. She has grapped hole of the microphone an is dancin all aroun the stage, jumpin up an down an wavin her arms an tossin her hair aroun. I am tryin to understan the words to the song, but the band is playin too loud for that, beatin on the drums, bangin on the piano, swattin them electric guitars till it seem like the roof gonna cave in. I am thinkin, what the hell is this?
   After a wile they take a break an so I got up an tried to get through a door that go backstage. But they is a feller standing there who say I cannot come in. When I go walkin back to my seat, I notice everbody is starin at my Army uniform. “That is some costume you has got on there,” somebody says, an somebody else say, “Far out!” an another one say, “Is he for real?”
   I am beginnin to feel like a idiot again, an so I gone on outside, thinkin maybe I can walk aroun an figger things out. I guess I must of walked for haf an hour or so, an when I get back to the place they is a long line of people waitin to get in. I go up to the front an try to splain to the guy that all my stuff is in there, but he say to go wait at the end of the line. I guess I stood there a hour or so, an listened to the music comin from inside, an I have to tell you, it sounded a little better when you got away from it like that.
   Anyway, after a wile, I got bored an went down a alley an roun to the back of the club. They was some little steps an I sat down there an watched the rats chasin each other in the garbage. I had my harmonica in my pocket, so’s to pass the time, I got it out an started to play a little. I could still hear the music from Jenny’s band, an after a wile I foun mysef bein able to play along with them, sort of usin the chromatic stop to get half out of key so it would fit in with what they was playin. I don’t know how long it was, but it didn’t take much afore I was able to make runs of my own, way up in C major, an to my suprise, it didn’t soun half bad when you was playin it—so long as you didn’t have to listen to it too.
   All of a sudden the door behin me bust open an there is Jenny standin there. I guess they had taken their break again, but I wadn’t payin no attention an had kep on playin.
   “Who is that out there?” she say.
   “It’s me,” I say, but it is dark in the alley an she stick her head out the door an say, “Who is playin that harmonica?”
   I stand up an I am kind of embarrassed on account of my clothes, but I say, “It’s me. Forrest.”
   “It is who? ” she say.
   “Forrest.”
   “Forrest? Forrest Gump! ” an suddenly she rush out the door an thowed hersef into my arms.

   Jenny an me, we set aroun backstage an caught up on things till she had to play her nex set. She had not exactly quit school, she had got thowed out when they foun her in a feller’s room one night. That was a thowin-out offense in them days. The banjo player had run off to Canada rather than go in the Army, an the little band had broke up. Jenny had gone out to California for a wile, an weared flowers in her hair, but she say them people is a bunch of freaks who is stoned all the time, an so she met this guy an come with him to Boston, an they had done some peace marches an all, but he turned out to be a fairy, so she split up with him, an took up with a real serious peace marcher who was in to makin bombs an stuff, an blowin up buildins. That didn’t work out neither, so she met up with this guy what teached at Harvard University, but it turned out he was married. Next, she went with a guy that had seemed real nice but one day he got both their asses arrested for shoplifting, an she decided it was time to pull hersef together.
   She fell in with The Cracked Eggs, an they started playin a new kind of music, an got real popular aroun Boston, an they was even gonna go to New York an make a tape for an album nex week. She say she is seein this guy that goes to Harvard University, an is a student in philosophy, but that after the show tonight, I can come home an stay with them. I am very disappointed that she has got hersef a boyfrien, but I don’t have noplace else to go, so that’s what I done.
   Rudolph is the boyfrien’s name. He is a little guy bout a hundrit pounds or so, an has hair like a dustmop an wears a lot of beads aroun his neck an is settin on the floor when we get to their apartment, meditatin like a guru.
   “Rudolph,” Jenny say, “this is Forrest. He is a friend of mine from home, an he is gonna be stayin with us a wile.”
   Rudolph don’t say nothin, but he wave his hand like the Pope when he is blessin somethin.
   Jenny ain’t got but one bed, but she made up a little pallet for me on the floor an that is where I slept. It wadn’t no worse than a lot of places I slept in the Army, an a damn sight better than some.
   Next mornin I get up an there is Rudolph still settin in the middle of the room meditatin. Jenny fixed me some breakfast an we lef ole Rudolph settin there an she took me on a tour of Cambridge. First thing she says is that I have got to get mysef some new clothes, on account of people up here does not understan an will think I am tryin to put them on. So we go to a surplus store an I get me some overalls an a lumber jacket an change into them right there an take my uniform in a paper bag.
   We is walkin aroun Harvard University, an who does Jenny run into but the married professor she used to date. She is still friends with him, even tho in private she like to refer to him as a “degenerate turd.” Doctor Quackenbush is his name.
   Anyway, he is all excited on account of he is beginnin to teach a new course next week that he thunk up all by hissef. It is called the “Role of the Idiot in World Literature.”
   I pipe up an say I think it sounds pretty interestin, an he say, “Well, Forrest, why don’t you sit in on the class? You might enjoy it.”
   Jenny look at both of us kind of funny-like, but she don’t say nothin. We gone on back to the apartment an Rudolph is still squattin on the floor by hissef. We was in the kitchen an I axed her real quiet if Rudolph could talk, an she say, yes, sooner or later.

   That afternoon Jenny took me to meet the other guys in the band an she tell them I play the harmonica like heaven itsef, an why don’t they let me set in with them at the club tonight. One of the guys axe me what I like to play best, an I say, “Dixie,” an he say he don’t believe he has heard what I say, an Jenny jump in an say, “It don’t matter, he will be fine once he’s got a ear for our stuff.”
   So that night I be playin with the band an everbody agree I am makin a good contribution an it is very enjoyable, gettin to set there an watch Jenny sing an thow hersef all over the stage.
   That nex Monday I have decided to go ahead an set in on Doctor Quackenbush’s class, “Role of the Idiot in World Literature.” The title alone is enough to make me feel sort of important.
   “Today,” Doctor Quackenbush says to the class, “we has a visitor who is gonna be auditing this course from time to time. Please welcome Mister Forrest Gump.” Everbody turn an look at me an I give a little wave, an then the class begin.
   “The idiot,” Doctor Quackenbush say, “has played an important role in history an literature for many years. I suppose you has all heard of the village idiot, who was usually some retarded individual livin in a village someplace. He was often the object of scorn an mockery. Later, it become the custom of nobility to have in their presence a court jester, a sort of person that would do things to amuse the royalty. In many instances, this individual was actually an idiot or a moron, in others, he was merely a clown or jokester….”
   He go on like this for a wile, an it begun to become apparent to me that idiots was not jus useless people, but was put here for a purpose, sort of like Dan had said, an the purpose is to make people laugh. At least that is somethin.
   “The object of having a fool for most writers,” Doctor Quackenbush say, “is to employ the device of double entendre, permittin them to let the fool make a fool of hissef, an at the same time allow the reader the revelation of the greater meaning of the foolishness. Occasionally, a great writer like Shakespeare would let the fool make an ass out of one of his principal characters, thereby providing a twist for the readers’ enlightenment.”
   At this point, I am becomin somewhat confused. But that is normal. Anyhow, Mister Quackenbush say that to demonstrate what he has been talkin about, we is gonna do a scene from the play, King Lear, where there is a fool an a madman in disguise an the king hissef is crazy. He tells this guy named Elmer Harrington III to play the part of Mad Tom o’Bedlam, an for this girl called Lucille to play The Fool. Another guy called Horace somebody was to be crazy ole King Lear. An then he say, “Forrest, why doesn’t you play the role of the Earl of Gloucester?”
   Mister Quackenbush say he will get a few stage props from the drama department, but he want us to get up our own costumes, just so the thing would be more “realistic.” How I got into this deal, I do not know, is what I am thinkin.

   Meantime, things is happenin with our band, The Cracked Eggs. A feller from New Yawk have flown up an listened to us an says he wants to get us in a recordin studio an make a tape of our music. All the fellers is excited, includin Jenny Curran, an me, of course. The feller from New Yawk, Mister Feeblestein is his name. He say if everthing go well, we could be the hottest thing since the invention of night baseball. Mister Feeblestein say all we got to do is sign a piece of paper an then start gettin rich.
   George, the guy who plays keyboard for us, has been teachin me a little bit of how to play it, an Mose, the drummer, is also lettin me beat on his drums some. It is kind of fun, learnin how to play all them things, an my harmonica too. Ever day I practice some, an ever night the band play at the Hodaddy Club.
   Then one afternoon I come home from class an there is Jenny settin by hersef on the couch. I axed her where is Rudolph, an she say he has “split.” I axed what for, an she say, “Cause he is a nogood bastid like all the rest,” an so I says, “Why don’t we go out an get ourselfs some supper an talk bout it?”
   Naturally, she does most of the talkin, an it is really jus a string of gripes bout men. She say we are “lazy, unresponsible, selfish, low-down lyin shits.” She is goin on that way for a wile an then she start to cry. I says, “Awe, Jenny, don’t do that. It ain’t nothin. That ole Rudolph didn’t look like the kinda feller for you no how, squattin on the floor like that an all.” An she say, “Yes, Forrest, probly you is right. I’d like to go home now.” An so we do.
   When we get home, Jenny begun takin off her clothes. She is down to her underpants, an I am jus settin on the couch tryin not to notice, but she come up an stand in front of me an she say, “Forrest, I want you to fuck me now.”
   You coulda knocked me over with a feather! I jus set there an gawked up at her. Then she set down nex to me an started foolin with my britches, an nex thing I knowed, she’d got off my shirt an was huggin an kissin me an all. At first, it was jus a little odd, her doin all that. Course I had dreamed bout it all along, but I had not expected it quite this way. But then, well I guess somethin come over me, an it didn’t matter what I’d expected, cause we was rollin aroun on the couch an had our clothes nearly off an then Jenny pulled down my undershorts an her eyes get big an she say, “Whooo—lookit what you got there!” an she grapped me jus like Miz French had that day, but Jenny never say nothin about me keepin my eyes closed, so I didn’t.
   Well, we done all sorts of things that afternoon that I never even dreamt of in my wildest imagination. Jenny shown me shit I never could of figgered out on my own—sidewise, crosswise, upside down, bottom-wise, lengthwise, dogwise, standin up, settin down, bendin over, leanin back, inside-out an outside-in—only way we didn’t try it was apart! We rolled all over the livin room an into the kitchen—stove in furniture, knocked shit over, pulled down drapes, mussed up the rug an even turned the tv set on by accident. Wound up doin it in the sink, but don’t axe me how. When we is finally finished, Jenny jus lie there a wile, an then she look at me an say, “Goddamn, Forrest, where is you been all my life?”
   “I been aroun,” I says.

   Naturally, things are a bit different between Jenny an me after that. We commenced to sleep in the same bed together, which was also kind of strange for me at first, but I sure got used to it. When we was doin our act at the Hodaddy Club, ever so often Jenny would pass by me an muss up my hair, or run her fingers down the back of my neck. All of a sudden things start to change for me—like my whole life jus begun, an I am the happiest feller in the world.
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Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
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Apple iPhone 6s
11

   The day arrived when we is to give our little play in Professor Quackenbush’s class at Harvard. The scene we is to do is when King Lear an his fool go out onto the heath, which is like a marsh or a field back home, an a big storm done blowed up an everbody run into a shack called a “hovel.”
   Inside the hovel there is a guy called Mad Tom o’Bedlam who is actually a character name of Edgar disguised up as a crazy person on account of being fucked over by his brother, who is a bastid. Also, the king is gone totally nuts by this time, an Edgar is playin a nut too, an the fool, of course, is actin like one. My part is to be the Earl of Gloucester, who is Edgar’s father, an sort of a straight man for them other stooges.
   Professor Quackenbush have rigged up a ole blanket or somethin to resemble a hovel an he has got some kind of wind machine to sound like a storm—big electric fan with clothespins holdin pieces of paper to the blades. Anyway, here come Elmer Harrington III as King Lear, dressed in a gunnysack an wearin a colander on his head. The girl they got to play the fool has foun a fool’s costume someplace, with a little cap that has bells tied to it, an them kinds of shoes that curl up in front like Arabs wear. The guy playin Tom o’Bedlam has foun hissef a Beatle wig an some clothes out of the garbage an has painted his face with dirt. They is takin it all very seriously.
   I am probly the best-lookin of the bunch, tho, cause Jenny done set down an sewed me up a costume out of a sheet an a pillow case that I am wearin like a diaper, an she has also made me a cape out of a tablecloth, just like Superman wears.
   Anyway, Professor Quackenbush start up his wind machine an say for us to begin at page twelve, where Mad Tom is tellin us his sad story.
   “Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes,” Tom say.
   An King Lear say, “What? Have his daughters brought him to this pass? Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?”
   An the fool say, “Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had all been shamed.”
   This shit go on for a wile, then the fool say, “This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.”
   In this, the fool is correct.
   Just bout this time, I am sposed to enter into the hovel carrying a torch, which Professor Quackenbush have borrowed from the drama department. The fool call out, “Look! Here come a walking fire!” an Professor Quackenbush light my torch an I go across the room into the hovel.
   “This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet,” Tom o’Bedlam say.
   “What’s he?” the king axes.
   An I say, “What are you there? Your names?”
   Mad Tom say he is jus “Po Tom, that eats the swimmin frawg, the toad, the tadpole and the newt…” an a bunch of other shit, an then I sposed to suddenly recognize the king, an say:
   “What! Hath your grace no better company?”
   An Mad Tom, he answer, “The prince of darkness is a gentleman—Modo he’s call’d, and Mahu.”
   The wind machine be blowin hard now, an I reckon Professor Quackenbush have not considered that I am six feet six inches tall when he built the hovel, cause the top of my torch is bumpin against the ceiling.
   Mad Tom, he is now sposed to say, “Poor Tom’s a-cold,” but instead, he say, “Watch that torch!”
   I look down at my book to see where that line come from, an Elmer Harrington III say to me, “Look out for that torch, you idiot!” an I say back to him, “For once in my life I am not the idiot—you is!” An then all of a sudden the roof to the hovel catch on fire an fall on Mad Tom’s Beatle wig an set it on fire too.
   “Turn off the goddamn wind machine!” somebody shout, but it is too late. Everthing burning up!
   Mad Tom is hollerin an yellin an King Lear take off his colander an jam it on Mad Tom’s head to put the fire out. People is jumpin aroun an choakin an coughin an cussin an the girl playin the fool gets hysterical an commence to shriek an cry, “We will all be kilt!” For a moment or two, it actually looks that way.
   I turn behin me, an damn if my cape ain’t caught on fire, an so I thowed open the winder an grapped the fool aroun her waist an out we leaped. It was only from the secont story winder, an they was a bunch of shrubs down there that broke our fall, but it was also lunchtime an hundrits of people was wanderin aroun the Yard. There we was, all a-fire an smolderin.
   Black smoke come pourin from up in the open winder of the class an all of a sudden there is Professor Quackenbush, leanin out an lookin aroun, shakin his fist, face all covered up with soot.
   “Gump, you fuckin idiot—you stupid asshole! You will pay for this!” he shoutin.
   The fool is grovelin aroun on the groun an bawlin an wringing her hans but she is okay—just singed up a bit—so I just took off—bounded across the Yard fast as I could run, cape still on fire, smoke trailin behin me. I didn’t stop till I got home, an when I get into the apartment, Jenny say, “Oh, Forrest, how was it? I bet you was wonderful!” Then she get a peculiar look on her face. “Say, do you smell somethin burnin?” she axes.
   “It is a long story,” I say.

   Anyhow, after that I did not attend the “Role of the Idiot in World Literature” no more, as I have seen quite enough. But ever night I an Jenny are playin with The Cracked Eggs an all day long we is makin love an takin walks an havin picnics on the banks of the Charles River an it is heaven. Jenny has written a nice tender song called “Do It to Me Hard an Fast,” in which I get to take bout a five-minute ride on my harmonica. It were a splendid spring an summer, an we went down to New Yawk an made the tapes for Mister Feeblestein an a few weeks later he call up to say we is gonna have a record album. Not too long after that, everbody be callin us up to play in their towns an we took the money we got from Mister Feeblestein an bought us a big bus with beds an shit in it an go on the road.
   Now there is somethin else durin that period that played a great role in my life. One night after we is finished the first set at the Hodaddy Club, Mose, the drummer for The Cracked Eggs, take me aside an say, “Forrest, you is a nice clean-cut feller an all, but they is somethin I want you to try that I think will make you play that harmonica better.”
   I axe what it is, an Mose say, “Here,” an he give me a little cigarette. I tell him I don’t smoke, but thanks, an Mose say, “It is not a regular cigarette, Forrest. It have got somethin in it to expand your horizons.”
   I tole Mose I ain’t sure I need my horizons expanded, but he sort of insisted. “At least try it,” he say, an I thought for a minute, an conclude that one cigarette ain’t gonna hurt none, an so I do.
   Well let me say this: my horizons indeed become expanded.
   Everthing seem to slow down an get rosy keen. That secont set we played that night was the best of my life, I seemed to hear all the notes a hundrit times as I was playin them, an Mose come up to me later an say, “Forrest, you think that’s good—use it when you’re screwin.”
   I did, an he was right bout that too. I used some of my money to buy me some of that stuff, an before you know it, I was doin it day in an day out. The only problem was, it kind of made me stupider after a wile. I just get up in the mornin an light up one of them joints, which is what they called them, an lie there all day till it was time to go an play. Jenny didn’t say nothin for a wile, cause she been known to take a puff or two hersef, but then one day she say to me, “Forrest, don’t you think you been doin too much of that shit?”
   “I dunno,” I says, “how much is too much?”
   An Jenny say, “As much as you are doin is too much.”
   But I didn’t want to stop. Somehow, it got rid of everthing I might be worried bout, tho there wadn’t too much of that at that time anyway. At night I’d go out between sets at the Hodaddy Club an set in the little alley an look up at the stars. If they weren’t any stars, I’d look up anyway, an one night Jenny come out an find me lookin up at the rain.
   “Forrest, you has got to quit this,” she say. “I am worried bout you, cause you ain’t doin nothin cept playin an lyin aroun all day. It ain’t healthy. I think you need to get away for a wile. We ain’t got no concerts booked after tomorrow down in Provincetown, so I think maybe we ought to go someplace an take a vacation. Go up to the mountains maybe.”
   I jus nod my head. I ain’t even sure I heard all she said.
   Well, the nex night in Provincetown, I find the backstage exit an go on outside to lite up a joint. I am settin there by mysef, mindin my business, when these two girls come up. One of them say, “Hey, ain’t you the harmonica player with The Cracked Eggs?”
   I nod yes, an she jus plop hersef down in my lap. The other girl is grinnin an squealin an suddenly she take off her blouse. An the other girl is tryin to unzip my pants an have her skirt pulled up an I am jus settin there blowed away. Suddenly the stage door open an Jenny call out, “Forrest, it is time to…” an she stop for a secont an then she say, “Awe shit,” an slam the door.
   I jumped up then, an the girl in my lap felled on the groun an the other one is cussin an all, but I went inside an there is Jenny leaned up against the wall cryin. I went up to her but she say, “Keep away from me, you shithead! You men is all alike, jus like dogs or somethin—you got no respect for anybody!”
   I ain’t never felt so bad. I don’t remember much bout that last set we played. Jenny went up to the front of the bus on the trip back an wouldn’t speak to me none at all. That night she slep on the sofa an the nex mornin she say maybe it is time for me to find my own place. An so I packed up my shit an left. My head hangin very low. Couldn’t explain it to her or nothin. Thowed out again.

   Jenny, she took off someplace after that. I axed aroun, but nobody knowed where she was. Mose say I can bunk with him till I find a place, but it is a terrible lonely time. Since we ain’t playin none for the moment, there ain’t nothin much to do, an I be thinkin maybe it’s time I go on back home an see my mama an maybe start up that little srimp bidness down where po ole Bubba used to live. Perhaps I is not cut out to be a rock an roll star. Perhaps, I think, I ain’t nothin but a bumblin idiot anyhow.
   But then one day Mose come back an he say he was over to a saloon on the corner watchin the tv news, an who should he see but Jenny Curran.
   She is down in Washington, he say, marchin in a big demonstration against the Vietnam War, an Mose say he wonderin why she botherin with that shit when she ought to be up here makin us money.
   I say I has got to go see her, an Mose say, “Well, see if you can bring her back.” He say he knows where she probly is stayin, on account of they is this group from Boston that has taken an apartment in Washington to demonstrate against the war.
   I packed up all my shit—everthin I own—an thanked Mose an then I am on my way. Whether I come back or not, I do not know.

   When I get down to Washington, everthin is a mess. They is police everwhere an people be shoutin in the streets an thowin things like in a riot. Police be bongin folks on the head what thow things, an the situation look like it be gettin out of han.
   I find the address of the place Jenny might be at, an go over there, but ain’t nobody home. I waited on the steps for most of the day, then, bout nine o’clock at night, a car pull up an some folks get out an there she is!
   I get up from the steps an walk towards her, but she turn away from me an run back to the car. Them other people, two guys an a girl, they didn’t know what to do, or who I was, but then one of them say, “Look, I wouldn’t fool with her right now—she is awful upset.” I axed why, an the feller take me aside an tell me this:
   Jenny has done jus got out of jail. She have been arrested the day before, an spent the night in the women’s jail, an this mornin, fore anybody could get her out, the people at the jail done said she might have lice or somethin in her hair cause it so long an all, an they had all her hair shaved off. Jenny is bald.
   Well, I reckon she don’t want me to see her this way, cause she has done got into the back seat of the car an is lyin down. So I crawled up on my hans an knees so I couldn’t see in the winder, an I say, “Jenny—it’s me, Forrest.”
   She don’t say nothing, so I start tellin her how sorry I am bout what’s happened. I tell her I ain’t gonna smoke no more dope, nor play in the band no more on account of all the bad temptations. An I say I’m sorry bout her hair. Then I crawled back to the steps where my shit is, an looked in my duffelbag an find a ole watch cap from the Army an crawled back to the car an stuck it on a stick an polked it thru the winder. She took it, an put it on, an come out of the car, an say, “Awe get up off the groun you big Bozo, an come into the house.”
   We set an talked for a wile, an them other people been smokin dope an drinkin beer, but I ain’t havin none. They is all discussin what they is gonna do tomorrow, which is that they is a big demonstration at the U.S. Capitol at which a bunch of Vietnam veterans is gonna take off they medals an thow them on the steps of the Capitol.
   An Jenny suddenly say, “Do you know Forrest here done won the Congressional Medal of Honor?” An everbody get completely quiet an be lookin at me, an then at each other, an one of them say, “Jesus Christ have just sent us a present!”
   Well, the next mornin, Jenny come into the livin room where I is sleepin on the sofa an say, “Forrest, I want you to go with us today, an I want you to wear your Army uniform.” When I axed why, she say, “Because you is gonna do somethin to stop all the sufferin over in Vietnam.” An so I get into my uniform, an Jenny come back after a wile with a bunch of chains she has bought at the hardware store, an say, “Forrest, wrap these aroun you.”
   I axed why again, but she say, “Just do it, you will find out later. You want to make me happy, doesn’t you?”
   An so off we went, me in my uniform an the chains an Jenny an the other folks. It is a bright clear day an when we get to the Capitol they is a mob there with tv cameras an all the police in the world. Everbody be chantin an hollerin an givin the finger to the police. After a wile, I seen some other guys in Army uniforms an they was bunched together an then, one by one, they commenced to walk as close as they can get to the steps of the Capitol an they took off they medals an thowed them. Some of the fellers was in wheelchairs an some was lame an some was missing arms an legs. Some of them jus tossed they medal on to the steps, but others really thowed them hard. Somebody tap me on the shoulder an say it is my turn now. I look back at Jenny an she nod, so I go on up there mysef.
   It get sort of quiet, then somebody on a bullhorn announce my name, an say I is gonna thow away the Congressional Medal of Honor as a token of my support for endin the Vietnam War. Everbody cheer an clap, an I can see the other medals lyin there on the steps. High above all this, up on the porch of the Capitol, is a little bunch of people standin aroun, couple of cops an some guys in suits. Well, I figger I gotta do the best I can, so I take off the medal an look at it for a secon, an I be rememberin Bubba an all, an Dan, an I dunno, somethin come over me, but I got to thow it, so I rare back an heave that medal hard as I can. Couple of seconts later, one of the guys on the porch that is wearin a suit, he jus keel over. Unfortunately, I done thowed the medal too far an knocked him in the head with it.
   All hell break loose then. Police be chargin into the crowd an people be shoutin all sorts of things an tear gas bust open an suddenly five or six police pounced on me an commence knockin me with they billy sticks. A bunch more police come runnin up an nex thing you know, I am handcuffed an thowed in a police wagon an hauled off to jail.

   I am in jail all night long, an in the mornin they come an take me in front of the judge. I has been there before.
   Somebody tell the judge that I is accused of “assault with a dangerous weapon—a medal—an resistin arrest,” an so on an han him a sheet of paper. “Mister Gump,” the judge say, “do you realize that you have conked the Clerk of the U.S. Senate on the head with your medal?”
   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.”
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
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.
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Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
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Apple iPhone 6s
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.
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
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.
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
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.”
   I axed him what was that, an he say, “Oh, you know, old sport, beads and trinkets, perhaps a mirror or two—a portable radio and maybe a box of good Cuban cigars—and a case or two of booze.”
   So this is the kind of deal we is in.
   Anyhow, the months go by, an we is harvesting the last cotton crop of the season. Big Sam has done just bout finished the river barge that is to take us thru pygmy country to the town, an the night before we is to leave, they hold a big hoedown to celebrate everthin an also ward off evil spirits.
   All the tribe be settin aroun the fire chantin “boola-boola” and beatin on they drums. They has also drug out that big cauldron an got it on the fire steamin an boilin, but Big Sam say it is only a “symbolic gesture.”
   We is settin there playin chess, an let me tell you this—I am so excited I am bout to bust! Just let us get near a town or city, an we is long gone. Ole Sue knows the deal too, cause he’s settin over there with a big grin on his face, ticklin hissef under the arms.
   We has played one or two games of chess an is bout to finish another, when I suddenly look down, an damned if Big Sam ain’t got me in check. He is smilin so big, all I can see in the dark is his teeth, an I figger I had better get outta this situation quick.
   Only problem is, I can’t. Wile I’ve been assin aroun countin my chickens afore they’re hatched, I have put mysef in a impossible position on the chessboard. They ain’t no way out.
   I studied that thing for a wile, my frown lit up plain as day from the fire’s reflection off Big Sam’s smilin teeth, an then I says, “Ah, look here—I got to go pee.” Big Sam nod, still grinnin, an I’ll tell you this, it was the first time I can remember when sayin somethin like that got me out of trouble instead of in it.

   I went on back behin the hovel an took a pee, but then instead of goin back to the chess game, I went in an got ole Sue an splained to him what the deal was. Then I snuck up on Grurck’s hut an whispered for Major Fritch. She come out, an I tole her too, an say we’d better get our butts outta here afore we is all parboiled or somethin.
   Well, we all decided to make a break for it. Grurck, he say he’s comin with us on account of he’s in love with Major Fritch—or however he expressed it. Anyway, the four of us started creepin out of the village an we got down to the edge of the river an was just bout to get in one of the native canoes, when all of a sudden I look up an standin there over me is Big Sam with about a thousan of his natives, lookin mean an disappointed.
   “Come now, old sport,” he say, “did you really think you could outsmart this old devil?” An I tell him, “Oh, we was jus goin for a canoe ride in the moonlite—you know what I mean?”
   “Yeah,” he say, he knowed what I meant, an then his men grapped us up an haul us back to the village under armed guard. The cookin cauldron is bubblin an steamin to beat the band an they has got us tied to stakes in the groun an the outlook is somethin less than rosy.
   “Well, old sport,” Big Sam say, “this is a unfortunate turn of events indeed. But look at it this way, you will at least be able to console yourself by the knowledge that you have fed a hungry mouth or two. And also, I must tell you this—you are without a doubt the best chess player I have ever encountered, and I was the chess champion of Yale for three of the four years I was there.
   “As for you, madam,” Big Sam say to Major Fritch, “I am sorry to have to bring your little affaire d’amour with old Grurck here to an end, but you know how it is.”
   “No I don’t know how it is, you despicable savage,” Major Fritch say. “Where do you get off, anyway? You oughta be ashamed of yoursef!”
   “Perhaps we can serve you an Grurck on the same platter,” Big Sam chuckled, “a little light an dark meat—myself, I’ll take a thigh, or possibly a breast—now that would be a nice touch.”
   “You vile, unspeakable ass!” say Major Fritch.
   “Whatever,” Big Sam says. “And now, let the feast begin!”
   They begun untyin us an a bunch of them jiggaboos hauled us towards the cookin pot. They lifted up po ole Sue first, cause Big Sam say he will make good “stock,” an they was holdin him above the cauldron about to thow him in, when lo an behole, a arrow come out of noplace an strike one of the fellers hoistin up Sue. The feller fall down an Sue drop on top of him. Then more arrows come rainin down on us from the edge of the jungle, an everbody is in a panic.
   “It is the pygmies!” shout Big Sam. “Get to your arms!” an everbody run to get they spears an knives.
   Since we ain’t got no spears or knives, Major Fritch, me an Sue an Grurck start runnin down towards the river again, but we ain’t no more than ten feet down the path when all of a sudden we is snatched up feet first by some kind of snares set in the trees.
   We is hangin there, upside down like bats, an all the blood rushin to our heads, when this little guy come out of the brush an he be laughin an gigglin at us all trussed up. All sorts of savage sounds are comin from the village, but after a wile, everthing quiet down. Then a bunch of other pygmies come an cut us down an tie our hans an feet an lead us back to the village.
   It is a sight! They has captured Big Sam an all his natives an has them tied up han an foot too. Look like they is bout to thow them into the boilin pot.
   “Well, old sport,” Big Sam say, “seems like you were saved in the nick of time, doesn’t it?”
   I nod my head, but I ain’t sure if we isn’t jus out of the fryin pan an into the fire.
   “Tell you what,” says Big Sam, “looks like it’s all over for me an my fellers, but maybe you have a chance. If you can get to that harmonica of yours an play a little tune or two, it might save your life. The king of the pygmies is crazy for American music.”
   “Thanks,” I say.
   “Don’t mention it, old sport,” Big Sam say. They lifted him up high an was holdin him over the boilin cauldron, an suddenly he call out to me, “Knight to bishop three—then rook ten to king seven—that’s how I beat you!”
   They was a big splash, and then all Big Sam’s trussed-up natives begun chantin “boola-boola” again. Things are lookin down for us all.
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
16

   After they done finished cookin big Sam’s tribe, an shrinkin they heads, the pygmies slung us between long poles an carried us off like pigs into the jungle.
   “What do you spose they intend to do with us?” Major Fritch call out to me.
   “I don’t know, an I don’t give a shit,” I call back, an that were about the truth. I’m tired of all this crappola. A man can take jus so much.
   Anyhow, after about a day or so we come to the village of the pygmies, an as you might expec, they has got a bunch of little tiny huts in a clearin in the jungle. They truck us up to a hut in the center of the clearin where there is a bunch of pygmies standin aroun—an one little ole feller with a long white beard an no teeth settin up in a high chair like a baby. I figger him to be the king of the pygmies.
   They tumped us out onto the groun an untied us, an we stood up an dusted ourselfs off an the king of the pygmies commence jabberin some gibberish an then he get down from his chair an go straight up to Sue an kick him in the balls.
   “How come he done that?” I axed Grurck, who had learnt to speak some English wile he was livin with Major Fritch.
   “Him want to know if ape is boy or girl,” Grurck say.
   I figger there must be a nicer way to find that out, but I ain’t sayin nothin.
   Then the king, he come up to me an start talkin some of that gibberish—pygmalion, or whatever it is—an I’m preparing to get kicked in the balls too, but Grurck say, “Him want to know why you livin with them awful cannibals.”
   “Tell him it weren’t exactly our idea,” Major Fritch pipe up an say.
   “I got a idea,” I says. “Tell him we is American musicians.”
   Grurck say this to the king an he be peerin at us real hard, an then he axe Grurck somethin.
   “What’s he say?” Major Fritch want to know.
   “Him axe what the ape plays,” say Grurck.
   “Tell him the ape plays the spears,” I say, an Grurck do that, an then the king of the pygmies announce he want to hear us perform.
   I get out my harmonica an start playin a little tune—”De Camptown Races.” King of the pygmies listen for a minute, then he start clappin his hans an doin what look to be a clog dance.
   After I’m finished, he say he wants to know what Major Fritch an Grurck plays, an I tell Grurck to say Major Fritch plays the knives an that Grurck don’t play nothin—he is the manager.
   King of the pygmies look sort of puzzled an say he ain’t never heard of anybody playin knives or spears before, but he tell his men to give Sue some spears an Major Fritch some knives an let’s see what sort of music we come up with.
   Soon as we get the spears an knives, I say, “Okay—now!” an ole Sue conk the king of the pygmies over the head with his spear an Major Fritch threatened a couple of pygmies with her knives an we run off into the jungle with the pygmies in hot pursuit.

   The pygmies be thowin all sorts of rocks an shit at us from behin, an shootin they bows an arrows an darts from blowguns an such. Suddenly we come out on the bank of a river an ain’t no place to go, an the pygmies are catchin up fast. We is bout to jump into the river an swim for it, when suddenly from the opposite side of the river a rifle shot ring out.
   The pygmies are right on top of us, but another rifle shot ring out an they turn tail an run back into the jungle. We be lookin across the river an lo an behole on the other bank they is a couple of fellers wearin bush jackets an them white pith helmets like you used to see in Ramar of the Jungle. They step into a canoe an be paddlin towards us, an as they get closer, I seen one of them is got NASA stamped on his pith helmet. We is finally rescued.
   When the canoe reach our shore, the guy with NASA stamped on his helmet get out an come up to us. He go right up to ole Sue an stick out his han an say, “Mister Gump, I presume?”
   “Where the fuck has you assholes been?” hollared Major Fritch. “We been stranded in the jungle nearly four goddamn years!”
   “Sorry bout that, ma’am,” the feller say, “but we has got our priorities, too, you know.”
   Anyway, we is at last saved from a fate worse than death, an they loaded us up in the canoe an started paddlin us downriver. One of the fellers say, “Well folks, civilization is just aroun the corner. I reckon you’ll all be able to sell your stories to a magazine an make a fortune.”
   “Stop the canoe!” Major Fritch suddenly call out.
   The fellers look at one another, but they paddle the canoe over to the bank.
   “I have made a decision,” Major Fritch say. “For the first time in my life, I have found a man that truly understands me, an I am not going to let him go. For nearly four years, Grurck an I have lived happily in this land, an I have decided to stay here with him. We will go off in the jungle an make a new life for ourselfs, an raise a family an live happily ever after.”
   “But this man is a cannibal,” one of the fellers say.
   “Eat your heart out, buster,” says Major Fritch, an she an Grurck get out of the canoe an start back into the jungle again, han in han. Jus before they disappeared, Major Fritch turn aroun an give Sue an me a little wave, an then off they go.
   I looked back to the end of the canoe, an ole Sue is settin there twistin his fingers.
   “Wait a minute,” I says to the fellers. I go back an set down on the seat nex to Sue an say, “What you thinkin bout?”
   Sue ain’t sayin nothin, but they is a little bitty tear in his eye, an I knowed then what was bout to happen. He grapped me aroun the shoulders in a big hug, an then leaped out of the boat an ran up a tree on the shore. Last we seen of him, he is swingin away thru the jungle on a vine.
   The feller from NASA be shakin his head. “Well, what about you, numbnuts? You gonna follow your friends there into Bonzoland?”
   I looked after them for a minute, then I said, “Uh, uh,” an set back down in the canoe. Wile they was paddlin us away, don’t you believe I didn’t think bout it for a moment. But I jus couldn’t do it. I reckon I got other weenies to roast.

   They flown me back to America an tole me on the way how there was to be a big welcome home reception for me, but seems like I have heard that before.
   Sure enough tho, soon as we landed in Washington bout a million people was on han, cheerin an clappin an actin like they is glad to see me. They drove me into town in the back seat of a big ole black car an said they was takin me to the White House to see the President. Yep, I been there before too.
   Well, when we get to the White House, I’m expectin to see the same ole President what fed me breakfast an let me watch “The Beverly Hillbillies,” but they is got a new President now—feller with his hair all slicked back, puffy little cheeks an a nose look like Pinocchio’s.
   “Tell me now,” this President say, “did you have an exciting trip?”
   A feller in a suit standin next to the President lean over an whisper somethin to him, an suddenly the President say, “Oh, ah, accually what I meant was, how great it is that you have escaped from your ordeal in the jungle.”
   The feller in the suit whisper somethin else to the President, an he say to me, “Er, now what about your companion?”
   “Sue?” I say.
   “Was that her name?” Now he be lookin at a little card in his han. “Says here it was a Major Janet Fritch, and that even as you were being rescued she was dragged off into the jungle by a cannibal.”
   “Where it say that?” I axed.
   “Right here,” the President say.
   “That’s not so,” I says.
   “Are you suggesting I am a liar?” say the President.
   “I’m jus sayin it ain’t so,” I says.
   “Now look here,” say the President, “I am your commander in chief. I am not a crook. I do not lie!”
   “I am very sorry,” I says, “but it ain’t the truth bout Major Fritch. You jus take that off a card, but—”
   “Tape!” the President shout.
   “Huh?” I says.
   “No, no,” says the feller in the suit. “He said ‘take’–not ‘tape’—Mister President.”
   “TAPE!” scream the President. “I told you never to mention that word in my presence again! You are all a bunch of disloyal Communist swines.” The President be poundin hissef on the knee with his fist.
   “None of you understand. I don’t know anything bout anything! I never heard of anything! And if I did, I either forgot it, or it is top secret!”
   “But Mister President,” say the feller in the suit, “he didn’t say it. He only said—”
   “Now you are calling me a liar!” he say. “You’re fired!”
   “But you can’t fire me,” the feller say. “I am the Vice President.”
   “Well, pardon me for saying so,” says the President, “but you are never going to make President if you go aroun calling your commander in chief a liar.”
   “No, I guess you’re right,” say the Vice President. “I beg your pardon.”
   “No, I beg yours,” the President say.
   “Whatever,” say the Vice President, kinda fiddlin with hissef. “If you will all excuse me now, I have to go pee.”
   “That’s the first sensible idea I have heard all day,” say the President. Then he turn to me an axe, “Say, aren’t you the same fellow that played ping-pong and saved the life of old Chairman Mao?”
   I says, “Yup,” an the President say, “Well what did you want to do a thing like that for?”
   An I says, “Cause he was drownin,” an the President say, “You should have held him under, instead of saving him. Anyway, it’s history now, because the son of a bitch died while you were away in the jungle.”
   “You got a tv set?” I axed.
   The President look at me kind of funny. “Yeah, I have one, but I don’t watch it much these days. Too much bad news.”
   “You ever watch ‘The Beverly Hillbillies’?” I say.
   “It’s not on yet,” he say.
   “What is?” I axed.
   “ ‘To Tell the Truth’—but you don’t want to look at that—it’s a bunch of shit.” Then he say, “Look here, I have a meeting to go to, why don’t I walk you to the door?” When we get outside on the porch, an the President say in a very low voice, “Listen, you want to buy a watch?”
   I say, “Huh?” an he step over close to me an shove up the sleeve on his suit an lo an behole he must of had twenty or thirty wristwatches aroun his arm.
   “I ain’t got no money,” I says.
   The President, he roll down his sleeve an pat me on the back. “Well, you come back when you do and we’ll work something out, okay?”
   He shook my han an a bunch of photographers come up an start takin our picher an then I’m gone. But I’ll say this, that President seem like a nice feller after all.

   Anyhow, I’m wonderin what they gonna do with me now, but I don’t have to wonder long.
   It took bout a day or so for things to quiet down, an they had put me up in a hotel, but then a couple of fellers come in one afternoon an say, “Listen here, Gump, the free ride’s over. The government ain’t payin for none of this anymore—you’re on your own now.”
   “Well, okay,” I say, “but how bout givin me a little travelin money to get home on. I’m kinda light right now.”
   “Forget it, Gump,” they say. “You is lucky not to be in jail for conkin the Clerk of the Senate on the head with that medal. We done you a favor to get you off that rap—but we is washin our hans of your ass as of right now.”
   So I had to leave the hotel. Since I ain’t got no things to pack, it wadn’t hard, an I just went out on the street. I walked a wile, down past the White House where the President live, an to my suprise they is a whole bunch of people out front got on rubber masks of the President’s face an they is carryin some kind of signs. I figger he must be pleased to be so popular with everbody.
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
17

   Even tho they said they wouldn’t give me no money, one of the fellers did loan me a dollar before I lef the hotel. First chance I got, I phoned home to the po house where my mama was stayin to let her know I’m okay. But one of them nuns says, “We ain’t got no Mrs. Gump here no longer.”
   When I axed where she was, the nun say, “Dunno—she done run off with some protestant.” I thanked her an hanged up the phone. In a way, I’m sort of relieved. At least mama done run off with somebody, an ain’t in the po house no more. I figger I got to find her, but to tell the truth, I ain’t in no big hurry, cause sure as it’s gonna rain, she’ll be bawlin an hollerin an fussin at me on account of I lef home.
   It did rain. Rained cats an dogs an I foun me a awnin to stand under till some guy come out an run me off. I was soakin wet an cold an walkin past some government buildin in Washington when I seen a big ole plastic garbage bag settin in the middle of the sidewalk. Just as I get close to it, the bag commenced to move a little bit, like there is somethin in there!
   I stopped an went up to the bag an nudged it a little with my toe. Suddenly the bag jump bout four feet back an a voice come out from under it, say, “Git the fuck away from me!”
   “Who is that in there?” I axed, an the voice say back, “This is my grate—you go find your own.”
   “What you talkin bout?” I say.
   “My grate,” the voice say. “Git off my grate!”
   “What grate?” I axed.
   All of a sudden the bag lift up a little an a feller’s head peek out, squintin up at me like I’m some kinda idiot.
   “You new in town or somethin?” the feller says.
   “Sort of,” I answered. “I’m jus tryin to get outta the rain.”
   The feller under the bag is pretty sorry-lookin, half bald-headed, ain’t shaved in months, eyes all red an bloodshot an most of his teeth gone.
   “Well,” he say, “in that case I reckon it okay for a little wile—here.” He reach up an han me another garbage bag, all folded up.
   “What I’m sposed to do with this?” I axed.
   “Open it up an git under it, you damn fool—you said you wanted to git outta the rain.” An then he pull his bag back down over hissef.
   Well, I did what he said, an to tell you the truth, it wadn’t so bad, really. They was some hot air comin up outta the grate an it make the bag all warm an cozy inside an kep off the rain. We be squattin side-by-side on the grate with the bags over us an after a wile the feller says over to me, “What’s your name anyway?”
   “Forrest,” I says.
   “Yeah? I knew a guy named Forrest once. Longtime ago.”
   “What’s your name?” I axed.
   “Dan,” he say.
   “Dan? Dan?–hey, wait a minute,” I says. I thowed off my garbage bag an went an lifted up the bag off the feller an it was him! Ain’t got no legs, an he is settin on a little wood cart with roller-skate wheels on the bottom. Must of aged twenty years, an I could hardly recognize him. But it was him. It was ole Lieutenant Dan!

   After he had got out of the Army hospital, Dan went back to Connecticut to try to get back his ole job teachin history. But they wadn’t no history job available, so they made him teach math. He hated math, an besides, the math class was on the secont floor of the school an he had a hell of a time makin it up the stairs with no legs an all. Also, his wife done run off with a tv producer that lived in New Yawk an she sued him for divorce on grounds of “incompatibility.”
   He took to drinkin an lost his job an jus didn’t do nothin for a wile. Thieves robbed his house of everthin he had an the artificial legs they had give him at the VA hospital were the wrong size. After a few years, he said, he jus “give up,” an took to livin like a bum. There’s a little money ever month from his disability pension, but most of the time he jus give it away to the other bums.
   “I dunno, Forrest,” he say, “I guess I’m jus waitin to die or somethin.”
   Dan han me a few bucks an say to go aroun the corner an git us a couple of bottles of Red Dagger wine. I jus got one bottle tho, an used the money for mine to git one of them ready-made sambwiches, cause I ain’t had nothin to eat all day.
   “Well, old pal,” Dan say after he has polished off half his wine, “tell me what you been doin since I saw you last.”
   So I did. I tole him about goin to China an playin ping-pong, an findin Jenny Curran again, an playin in The Cracked Eggs band an the peace demonstration where I thowed my medal away an got put in jail.
   “Yeah, I remember that one all right. I think I was still here in the hospital. I thought bout going down there mysef, but I guess I wouldn’t have thowed my medals away. Look here,” he say. He unbutton his jacket an inside, on his shirt, is all his medals—Purple Heart, Silver Star—must of been ten or twelve of them.
   “They remind me of somethin,” he said. “I’m not quite sure what—the war, of course, but that’s jus a part of it. I have suffered a loss, Forrest, far greater than my legs. It’s my spirit, my soul, if you will. There is only a blank there now—medals where my soul used to be.”
   “But what about the ‘natural laws’ that’s in charge of everthin?” I axe him. “What about the ‘scheme of things’ that we has all got to fit ourself into?”
   “Fuck all that,” he say. “It was just a bunch of philosophic bullshit.”
   “But ever since you tole it to me, that’s what I been goin by. I been lettin the ‘tide’ carry me an tryin to do my best. Do the right thing.”
   “Well, maybe it works for you, Forrest. I thought it was working for me too—but look at me. Just look at me,” he say. “What good am I? I’m a goddamn legless freak. A bum. A drunkard. A thirty-five-year-old vagrant.”
   “It could be worse,” I says.
   “Oh yeah? How?” he say, an I reckon he got me there, so I finished tellin him bout mysef—gettin thowed in the loony bin an then bein shot up in the rocket an landin down with the cannibals an bout ole Sue an Major Fritch an the pygmies.
   “Well my God, Forrest my boy, you sure as hell have had some adventures,” Dan say. “So how come you are sittin here with me on the grates under a garbage bag?”
   “I dunno,” I says, “but I ain’t plannin to stay here long.”
   “What you got in mind then?”
   “Soon as this rain stops,” I say, “I’m gonna get off my big fat butt an go lookin for Jenny Curran.”
   “Where is she?”
   “Dunno that either,” I says, “but I’ll find out.”
   “Sounds like you might need some help,” he say.
   I look over at Dan an his eyes is gleamin from behin his beard. Somethin is tellin me he is the one needs some hep, but that’s okay with me.

   Ole Dan an me, we went to a mission flophouse that night on account of it didn’t stop rainin, an Dan, he paid them fifty cents apiece for our suppers an a quarter for our beds. You could of got supper free for settin an listenin to a sermon or somesuch, but Dan say he’d sleep out in the rain afore wastin our precious time hearin a Bible-thumper give us his view of the world.
   Next mornin Dan loaned me a dollar an I foun a pay phone an called up to Boston to ole Mose, that used to be the drummer for The Cracked Eggs. Sure enough, he still there in his place, an is damn suprised to hear from me.
   “Forrest—I don’t believe it!” Mose say. “We had given your ass up for lost!”
   The Cracked Eggs, he says, have broken up. All the money that Mister Feeblestein have promised them is eaten up by expenses or somethin, an after the secont record they didn’t get no more contracts. Mose say people is listenin to a new kind of music now—Rollin Stoned’s or the Iggles or somethin—an most of the fellers in The Cracked Eggs is gone someplace an foun real jobs.
   Jenny, Mose say, is not been heard of in a long wile. After she had gone down to Washington for the peace demonstration where I was arrested, she went back with The Cracked Eggs for a few months, but Mose say somethin in her jus wadn’t the same. One time he say, she broke up cryin on the stage an they had to play a instrumental to get thru the set. Then she started drinkin vodka an showin up late for performances an they was bout to speak to her bout it when she jus done up an quit.
   Mose say he personally feel her behavior has somethin to do with me, but she never would talk bout it. She moved out of Boston a couple of weeks later, sayin she was goin to Chicago, an that is the last he seen of her in nearly five years.
   I axed if he knew any way for me to reach her, an he say maybe he have a ole number she give him jus before she lef. He leave the phone an come back a few minutes later an give the number to me. Other than that, he say, “I ain’t got a clue.”
   I tole him to take care, an if I ever get up to Boston I will look him up.
   “You still playin your harmonica?” Mose axed.
   “Yeah, sometimes,” I say.

   I went an borrowed another dollar from Dan an called the number in Chicago.
   “Jenny Curran—Jenny?” a guy’s voice say. “Oh, yeah—I remember her. Nice little piece of ass. Been a long time.”
   “You know where she’s at?”
   “Indianapolis is where she say she was goin when she lef here. Who knows? Got herself a job at Temperer.”
   “At what?”
   “Temperer—the tire factory. You know, they make tires—for cars.”
   I thank the guy an went back an tole Dan.
   “Well,” he say, “I never been to Indianapolis. Heard it’s nice there in the fall.”

   We started tryin to thumb a ride out of Washington, but didn’t have no luck to speak of. A guy gave us a ride to the city limits on the back of a brick truck, but after that, nobody didn’t want to pick us up. I guess we was too funny-lookin or somethin—Dan settin on his little roller dolly an my big ole ass standin nex to him. Anyhow, Dan say why don’t we take a bus, cause he’s got enough money for that. To tell you the truth, I felt bad about takin his money, but somehow I figgered that he wanted to go, and it would be good to get him outta Washington too.
   An so we caught a bus to Indianapolis an I put Dan in the seat nex to me an stowed his little cart in the shelf up above. All the way there he be sluggin down Red Dagger wine an sayin what a shitty place the world is to live in. Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. I’m just a idiot anyhow.
   The bus left us off in the middle of Indianapolis an Dan an me is standin on the street tryin to figger out what to do nex when a policeman come up an say, “Ain’t no loiterin on the street,” an so we moved on. Dan axed a feller where is the Temperer Tire Company an it is way outside of town so we started headin in that direction. After a wile there ain’t no sidewalks an Dan can’t push his little cart along, so I picked him up under one arm and the cart under the other an we kep on goin.
   Bout noon, we seed a big sign say “Temperer Tires,” an figger this be the place. Dan say he will wait outside an I go on in an they is a woman at the desk an I axed if I could see Jenny Curran. Woman look at a list an say Jenny is workin in “re-treads,” but ain’t nobody allowed to go there cept’n if they works in the plant. Well, I’m just standin there, tryin to decide what to do, an the woman say, “Look, honey, they is bout to get a lunch break in a minute or so, why don’t you go roun to the side of the buildin. Probly she’ll come out,” so that’s what I did.
   They was a lot of folks come out an then, all by hersef, I seen Jenny walk thru a door an go over to a little spot under a tree an pull a sambwich out of a paper bag. I went over an sort of creeped behin her, an she’s settin on the groun, an I says, “That shore look like a tasty sambwich.” She didn’t even look up. She kep starin right ahead, an say, “Forrest, it has to be you.”
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Zodijak Gemini
Pol Muškarac
Poruke Odustao od brojanja
Zastava 44°49′N - 20°29′E
mob
Apple iPhone 6s
18

   Well, let me tell you—that were the happiest reunion of my life. Jenny is cryin an huggin me an I’m doin the same an everbody else in re-treads is standin there wonderin what is goin on. Jenny say she is off work in bout three hours, an for me an Dan to go over to this little tavern across the street an have a beer or somethin an wait for her. Then she will take us to her place.
   We go to the tavern an Dan is drinkin some Ripple wine on account of they got no Red Dagger, but he say Ripple is better anyhow cause it got a nicer “bouquet.”
   Bunch of other fellers is in there too, playin darts an drinkin an arm rasslin each other at a table. One big ole guy seem to be the bes arm rassler of the tavern, an ever once in a wile some feller would come up an try to beat him but couldn’t. They be bettin on it too, five an ten dollars a whack.
   After a little bit, Dan whisper over to me, “Forrest, you think you could beat that big bozo over there at arm rasslin?” An I say I dunno, an Dan say, “Well, here’s five bucks, cause I’m bettin you can.”
   So I go up an say to the feller, “Would you mine if I set down an arm rassle with you?”
   He look up at me, smilin, an say, “Long as you got money, you is welcome to try.”
   So I set down an we grapped each other’s hans an somebody say, “Go!” an the rassle is on. Other feller be gruntin an strainin like a dog tryin to shit a peach seed, but in about ten secons I had smushed his arm down on the table an whipped him at arm rasslin. All the other fellers had come gatherin aroun the table an were goin “oooh” an “ahh” an I could hear ole Dan shoutin an cheerin.
   Well, the other feller ain’t none too happy but he paid me five dollars an got up from the table.
   “My elbow slipped,” he say, “but nex time you come back here I want to have a go at you again, hear?” I nodded an went back to the table Dan was at an give him the money.
   “Forrest,” he say, “we may have foun a easy way to make ourselfs some bread.” I axed Dan if I could have a quarter to git me a pickled egg from the jar on the counter, an he han me a dollar an say, “You git anything you want, Forrest. We is now got a way to earn a livelyhood.”

   After work, Jenny come over to the tavern an take us to her place. She is livin in a little apartment not too far from the Temperer Tire Company an has got it all fixed up nice with things like stuffed animals an strings of colored beads hangin from the bedroom door. We went out to a grocery an bought some chicken an Jenny cooked supper for Dan an me an I tole her all that had happened since I seen her last.
   Mostly, she is curious about Major Fritch, but when I say she run off with a cannibal, Jenny seemed more relaxed bout it. She say life has not exactly been a bowl of cherries for her either durin the past few years.
   After she lef The Cracked Eggs, Jenny done gone to Chicago with this girl she met in the peace movement. They had demonstrated in the streets an got thowed in jail a bunch of times an Jenny say she is finally gettin tired of havin to appear in court an besides, she is concerned that she is developin a long police record.
   Anyhow, she is livin in this house with about fifteen people an she says they is not exactly her type of persons. Didn’t wear no underwear or nothin, an nobody flushed the toilets. She an this guy decided to take an apartment together, cause he didn’t like where they was livin neither, but that didn’t work out.
   “You know, Forrest,” she say, “I even tried to fall in love with him, but I jus couldn’t because I was thinkin of you.”
   She had wrote to her mama an axed her to get in touch with my mama to try an find out where I was bein kept, but her mama write her back sayin our house done burnt up an my mama is now livin in the po house, but by the time the letter get to Jenny, Mama done already run off with the protestant.
   Anyhow, Jenny said she didn’t have no money an so she heard they is hirin people at the tire company an she come down to Indianapolis to get a job. Bout that time she seen on the television that I am bout to be launched into space, but they is no time for her to get down to Houston. She say she watched, “with horror,” as my spaceship crashed, an she give me up for dead. Ever since, she jus been puttin in her time makin re-treads.
   I took her an hole her in my arms an we stayed like that for a wile. Dan rolled hissef into the bathroom, say he’s got to take a pee. When he’s in there, Jenny axe how he gonna do that, an don’t he need hep? an I say, “No, I seen him do it before. He can manage.”
   She shake her head an say, “This is where the Vietnam War have got us.”
   There ain’t much disputin that either. It is a sad an sorry spectacle when a no-legged man have got to pee in his hat an then dump it over into the toilet.

   The three of us settle into Jenny’s little apartment after that. Jenny fixed up Dan a place in a corner of the livin room with a little mattress an she kep a jar on the bathroom floor so he wouldn’t have to use his hat. Ever mornin she’d go off to the tire company an Dan an me would set aroun the house an talk an then go down to the little tavern near where Jenny worked to wait till she got off.
   First week we started doin that, the guy I beat arm rasslin wanted a chance to git back his five bucks an I gave it to him. He tried two or three times more an in the end lost bout twenty-five dollars an after that he didn’t come back no more. But they was always some other feller wanted to try his luck an after a month or two they was guys comin from all over town an from other little towns too. Dan an me, we is pullin in bout a hundrit fifty or two hundrit dollars a week, which weren’t bad, let me tell you. An the owner of the tavern, he is sayin he gonna hole a national contest, an git the tv there an everthing. But before that happen, another thing come along that changed my life for sure.
   One day a feller come into the tavern that was wearin a white suit an a Hiwaian shirt an a lot of gold jewelry aroun his neck. He set up at the bar wile I was finishin off some guy at arm rasslin an then he come an set down at our table.
   “Name’s Mike,” he say, “an I have heard bout you.”
   Dan axed what has he heard, an Mike say, “That this feller here is the strongest man in the world.”
   “What of it?” Dan says, an the feller say, “I think I got a idea how you can make a hell of a lot more money than this nickel an dime shit you’re doin here.”
   “How’s that?” Dan say.
   “Rasslin,” says Mike, “but not this piss-ant stuff—I mean the real thing. In a ring with hundrits of thousands of payin customers.”
   “Rasslin who?” Dan axed.
   “Whoever,” says Mike. “They is a circuit of professional rasslers—The Masked Marvel, The Incredible Hulk, Georgeous George, Filthy McSwine—you name em. The top guys make a hundrit, two hundrit thousand dollars a year. We’s start your boy here off slow. Teach him some of the holds, show him the ropes. Why, I bet in no time he’d be a big star—make everybody a pile of money.”
   Dan look at me, say, “What you think, Forrest?”
   “I dunno,” I says. “I was kinda thinkin bout goin back home an startin a little srimp bidness.”
   “Shrimp!” says Mike. “Why boy, you can make fifty times more money doing this than shrimpin! Don’t have to do it all your life—just a few years, then you’ll have something to fall back on, money in the bank, a nest egg.”
   “Maybe I ought to axe Jenny,” I say.
   “Look,” Mike say, “I come here to offer you a chance of a lifetime. You don’t want it, jus say so, an I’ll be on my way.”
   “No, no,” Dan say. Then he turn to me. “Listen, Forrest, some of what this feller say make sense. I mean, how else you gonna earn enough money to start a srimp bidness?”
   “Tell you what,” Mike say, “you can even take your buddy here with you. He can be your manager. Anytime you want to quit, you’re free to do it. What do you say?”
   I thought bout it for a minute or so. Sounded pretty good, but usually they is some catch. Nevertheless, I open my big mouth an say the fatal word: “Yes.”

   Well, that’s how I become a professional rassler. Mike had his office in a gymnasium in downtown Indianapolis an ever day me an Dan would catch the bus down there so’s I could get taught the proper way to rassle.
   In a nutshell, it was this: nobody is sposed to get hurt, but it sposed to look like they do.
   They be teachin me all sorts of things—half-nelsons, the airplane spin, the Boston crab, the pile driver, hammerlocks an all such as that. Also, they taught Dan how to yell an scream at the referee, so as to cause the greatest commotion.
   Jenny is not too keen on the rasslin bidness on account of she say I might git hurt, an when I say nobody gits hurt cause it’s all put-on, she say, “Then what’s the point of it?” It is a good question that I cannot rightly answer, but I am lookin foward to makin us some money anyhow.
   One day they is tryin to show me somethin called “the belly flop,” where I is sposed to go flyin thru the air to lan on top of somebody but at the last minute he rolls away. But somehow, I keep screwin it up, an two or three times I lan right on the feller afore he gits a chance to move out the way. Finally Mike come up into the ring an say, “Jesus, Forrest—you some kind of idiot or somethin! You could hurt somebody that way, a big ole moose like you!”
   An I says, “Yep—I am a idiot,” an Mike say, “What you mean?” an then Dan, he say for Mike to come over to him for a secont an he splain somethin to him, an Mike say, “Good God! Is you kiddin?” an Dan shake his head. Mike look at me an shrug his shoulders an say, “Well, I guess it takes all kinds.”
   Anyway, bout a hour later Mike come runnin out of his office up to the ring where Dan an me is.
   “I’ve got it!” he shoutin.
   “Got what?” Dan axed.
   “His name! We have to give Forrest a name to rassle under. It just came to me what it is.”
   “What might that be?” Dan say.
   “The Dunce!” says Mike. “We will dress him up in diapers an put a big ole dunce cap on his head. The crowd will love it!”
   Dan think for a minute. “I dunno,” he says, “I don’t much like it. Sounds like you are tryin to make a fool out of him.”
   “It’s only for the crowd,” Mike say. “He has to have a gimmick of some sort. All the big stars do it. What could be better than The Dunce!”
   “How about callin him The Spaceman?” say Dan. “That would be appropriate. He could wear a plastic helmet and some antennas.”
   “They already got somebody called The Spaceman,” Mike says.
   “I still don’t like it,” Dan say. He looks at me, an axed, “What you think, Forrest?”
   “I don’t really give a shit,” I says.

   Well, that was the way it was. After all them months of trainin I am finally bout to make my debut as a rassler. Mike come in to the gym the day before the big match an he has a box with my diaper an a big ole black dunce cap. He say to be back at the gym at noon tomorrow so he can drive us to my first rasslin match which is in Muncie.
   That night when Jenny get home I gone into the bathroom an put on the diaper an the dunce cap an come out into the livin room. Dan is settin on his little platform cart watchin tv an Jenny is readin a book. Both of them look up when I walk thru the door.
   “Forrest, what on earth?” Jenny says.
   “It’s his costume,” say Dan.
   “It makes you look like a fool,” she say.
   “Look at it this way,” Dan says. “It’s like he is in a play or somethin.”
   “He still looks like a fool,” says Jenny. “I can’t believe it! You’d let them dress him up like that an go out in public?”
   “It’s only to make money,” Dan say. “They got one guy called ‘The Vegetable’ that wears turnip greens for a jockstrap an puts a hollowed-out watermelon over his head with little eyes cut out for him to see thru. Another guy calls himself ‘The Fairy,’ an has wings on his back an carries a wand. Sumbitch probly weighs three hundred pounds—you oughta see him.”
   “I don’t care what the rest of them do,” Jenny says, “I don’t like this one bit. Forrest, you go an get out of that outfit.”
   I gone on back to the bathroom an took off the costume. Maybe Jenny is right, I’m thinkin—but a feller’s got to make a livin. Anyhow, it ain’t near as bad as the guy I got to rassle tomorrow night in Muncie. He calls hissef “The Turd,” an dresses in a big ole body stockin that is painted to look like a piece of shit. Lord knows what he gonna smell like.
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