We play real good after that, cept them Nebraska corn jerkoff niggers an big ole dumb white boys, they ain’t jus settin there observin the scene. They has got some tricks of they own-mainly like runnin all over us as if we was made of cardboard or somethin.
But they is still somewhat suprised that I can catch the ball, an after I catch it four or five more times, an the score is 28 to 21, they begin to put two fellers to chasin after me. However, that leave Gwinn, the end, with nobody much to chase him aroun, an he catch Snake’s pass an put us on the fifteen yard line. Weasel, the place kicker, get a field goal an the score now be 28 to 24.
On the sideline, Coach Bryant come up to me an say, “Forrest, you may be a shit-for-brains, but you has got to pull this thing out for us. I will personally see that you are made President of the United States or whatever else you want, if you can jus haul that football over the goal line one more time.” He pat me on the head then, like I was a dog, an back in the game I go.
The Snake, he get caught behin the line right at the first play, an the clock is runnin out fast. On the second play, he try to fake em out by handin me the ball, sted of thowin it, but bout two tons of Nebraska corn jackoff beef, black an white, fall on top of me right away. I lying there, flat on my back, thinkin what it must of been like when that netload of bananas fall on my daddy, an then I gone back in the huddle again.
“Forrest,” Snake says, “I gonna fake a pass to Gwinn, but I am gonna thow the ball to you, so I want you to run down there to the cornerback an then turn right an the ball be right there.” Snake’s eyes are wild as a tiger’s. I nod my head, an do as I am tole.
Sure enough, Snake heaves the ball into my hans an I be tearin toward the middle of the field with the goalposts straight ahead. But all of a sudden a giant man come flyin into me and slow me down, an then all the Nebraska corn jerkoff niggers an big ole dumb white boys in the world start grappin an gougin an stompin on me an I fall down. Damn! We ain’t got but a few yards to go fore winnin the game. When I git off my back, I see Snake got everbody line up already for the last play, on accounta we got no more time-outs. Soon as I git to my place, he calls for the snap an I run out, but he suddenly thowed the ball bout 20 feet over my head, outta bounds on purpose-to stop the clock I guess, which only has 2 or 3 seconts lef on it.
Unfortunately tho, Snake done got confused about things, I spose he’s thinkin it third down an we got one more play lef, but in fact it were forth down, an so we lose the ball an also, of course, we lose the game. It sound like somethin I woulda done.
Anyhow, it was extra sad for me, cause I kinda figgered Jenny Curran was probly watchin the game an maybe if I done got the ball and win the game, she try to forgive me for doin what I done to her. But that were not to be. Coach Bryant were mighty unhappy over what happen, but he suck it up an say, “Well, boys, there’s always nex year.”
Cept for me, that is. That was not to be either.
5
After the Orange Bowl, the Atheletic Department get my grades for the first term, an it ain’t long before Coach Bryant send for me to come to his office. When I get there, he lookin bleak.
“Forrest,” he say, “I can understan how you flunked remedial English, but it will mystify me to the end of my days how you managed to get an A in something called Intermediate Light, an then an F in phys-ed class-when you is jus been named the Most Valuable College Back in the Southeastern Conference!”
It was a long story that I did not want to bore Coach Bryant with, but why in hell do I need to know the distance between goalposts on a soccer field anyway? Well, Coach Bryant lookin at me with a terrible sad expression on his face. “Forrest,” he say, “I regret awfully havin to tell you this, but you is done flunked out of school, an there is nothin I can do.”
I jus stood there, twistin my hands, till it suddenly come to me what he is sayin-I ain’t gonna get to play no more football. I got to leave the University. Maybe I never see any of the other guys no more. Maybe I never see Jenny Curran no more either. I got to move outta my basement, an I won’t get to take Advanced Light nex term, like Professor Hooks have said I would. I didn’t realize it, but tears begun comin to my eyes. I ain’t sayin nothin. I jus standin there, head hangin down.
Then Coach, he stand up hissef, an come over to me an he put his arm aroun me.
He say, “Forrest, it okay, son. When you first come here, I expect somethin like this would happen. But I tole em then, I said, just give me that boy for one season-that is all I ask. Well, Forrest, we has had ourselfs one hell of a season. That is for sure. An it certainly weren’t your fault that Snake thowed the ball out of bounds on forth down….”
I look up then, an they is little tears in Coach’s eyes, too, an he is lookin at me real hard.
“Forrest,” he say, “there has never been nobody like you ever played ball at this school, an there won’t be never again. You was very fine.”
Then Coach go over an stand lookin out the winder, an he say, “Good luck, boy-now git your big dumb ass outta here.”
An so I had to leave the University.
I gone back an pack up my shit in the basement. Bubba come down an he done brought two beers an give one to me. I ain’t never drank a beer, but I can see how a feller could acquire a taste for it.
Bubba walk with me outside the Ape Dorm, an lo an behole, who should be standin there but the entire football team.
They is very quiet, an Snake, he come up an shake my han an say, “Forrest, I am very sorry about that pass, okay?” An I says, “Sure Snake, okay.” An then they all come up, one by one, an shake my han, even ole Curtis, who is wearin a body brace from his neck down on accounta bashin down one door too many in the Ape Dorm.
Bubba say he’d hep me carry my shit down to the bus depot, but I say I’d rather go alone. “Keep in touch,” he say. Anyhow, on the way to the bus station, I pass by the Student Union store, but it ain’t Friday night, an Jenny Curran’s band is not playin, so I say, the hell with it, an catch the bus on home.
It was late at night when the bus got to Mobile. I had not tole my mama what had happened, cause I knew she’d be upset, so I walk on home, but they is a light on up in her room an when I get inside, they she is, crying and bawling jus like I remember. What had happen, she tell me, is that the United States Army has already heard bout me not makin my grades, an that very day a notice done come for me to report to the U.S. Army Induction Center. If I had known then what I know now, I would never had done it.
My mama take me down there a few days later. She has packed me a box lunch in case I get hungry on the way to wherever we is going. They is about a hundrit guys standin aroun an four or five busses waiting. A big ole sergeant be hollerin an yellin at everbody, an Mama goes up to him an says, “I don’t see how you can take my boy-cause he’s a idiot,” but the sergeant jus look back at her an say, “Well, lady, what do you think all these other people is? Einsteins?” an he gone on back to hollerin an yellin. Pretty soon he yell at me, too, an I git on the bus an away we went.
Ever since I lef the nut school people been shoutin at me-Coach Fellers, Coach Bryant an the goons, an now the people in the Army. But let me say this: them people in the Army yell longer an louder an nastier than anybody else. They is never happy. An furthermore, they do not complain that you is dumb or stupid like coaches do-they is more interested in your private parts or bowel movements, an so always precede they yellin with somethin like “dickhead” or “asshole.” Sometimes I wonder if Curtis had been in the Army before he went to play football.
Anyhow, after about a hundrit hours on the bus we get to Fort Benning, Georgia, an all I’m thinkin is 35 to 3, the score when we whupped them Georgia Dogs. The conditions in the barracks is actually a little better than they was in the Ape Dorm, but the food is not-it is terrible, altho there is a lot of it.
Other than that, it was just doin what they tole us an gettin yelled at in the months to come. They taught us to shoot guns, thow hand grenades an crawl aroun on our bellies. When we wadn’t doin that we was either runnin someplace or cleanin toilets an things. The one thing I remember from Fort Benning is that they didn’t seem to be nobody much smarter than I was, which was certainly a relief.
Not too long after I arrive, I get put on KP, on account of I have accidentally shot a hole in the water tower when we was down at the rifle range. When I get to the kitchen, it seems the cook is took sick or somethin, an somebody point to me an say, “Gump, you is gonna be the cook today.”
“What I’m gonna cook?” I axed. “I ain’t never cooked before.”
“Who cares,” somebody say. “This ain’t the Sans Souci, y’know.”
“Why don’t you make a stew?” somebody else say. “It’s easier.”
“What of?” I axed.
“Look in the icebox an the pantry,” the feller say. “Just thow in everthin you see an boil it up.”
“What if it don’t taste good?” I axed.
“Who gives a shit. You ever eat anythin around here that did?”
In this, he is correct.
Well, I commenced to get everthin I could from the iceboxes an the pantry. They was cans of tomatos an beans an peaches an bacon an rice an bags of flour an sacks of potatoes an I don’t know what all else. I gathered it all together an say to one of the guys, “What I’m gonna cook it in?”
“They is some pots in the closet,” he say, but when I looked in the closet, they is jus small pots, an certainly not large enough to cook a stew for two hundrit men in the company.
“Why don’t you axe the lieutenant?” somebody say.
“He’s out in the field on maneuvers,” come the reply.
“I don’t know,” say one feller, “but when them guys get back here today, they gonna be damn hungry, so you better think of somethin.”
“What about this?” I axed. They was an enormous iron thing bout six feet high an five feet aroun settin in the corner.
“That? That’s the goddamn steam boiler. You can’t cook nothin in there.”
“How come,” I say.
“Well, I dunno. I jus wouldn do it if I was you.”
“It’s hot. It’s got water in it,” I says.
“Do what you want,” somebody say, “we got other shit to do.”
An so I used the steam boiler. I opened all the cans an peeled all the potatoes an thowed in whatever meat I could find an onions an carrots an poured in ten or twenty bottles of catsup an mustard an all. After bout a hour, you could begin to smell the stew cookin.
“How’s the dinner comin?” somebody axed after a wile.
“I’ll go taste it,” I say.
I unfastened the lid to the boiler an there it was, you could see all the shit bubblin an boilin up, an ever so often a onion or a potato woud come to the top an float aroun.
“Let me taste it,” a feller axed. He took a tin cup an dip out some stew.
“Say, this shit ain’t near done yet,” he says. “You better turn up the heat. Them fellers’ll be here any minute.”
So I turned up the heat on the boiler an sure enough, the company begun comin in from the field. You could hear them in the barracks takin showers an gettin dressed for the evenin meal, an it weren’t long afterward that they begun arrivin in the mess hall.
But the stew still wadnt ready. I tasted it again an some things was still raw. Out in the mess hall they begun a kind of disgruntled mumblin that soon turned to chantin an so I turned the boiler up again.
After a haf hour or so, they was beatin on the tables with they knives an forks like in a prison riot, an I knowed I had to do somethin fast, so I turned the boiler up high as it could go.
I’m settin there watchin it, so nervous I didn’t know what to do, when all of a sudden the first sergeant come bustin thru the door.
“What in hell is goin on here?” he axed. “Where is these men’s food?”
“It is almost ready, Sergeant,” I say, an jus about then, the boiler commenced to rumble an shake. Steam begun to come out of the sides an one of the legs on the boiler tore loose from the floor.
“What is that?” the sergeant axed. “Is you cookin somethin in that boiler! ”
“That is the supper,” I says, an the sergeant got this real amazed look on his face, an a secont later, he got a real frightened look, like you might get jus before an automobile wreck, an then the boiler blew up.
I am not exactly sure what happened nex. I do remember that it blowed the roof off the mess hall an blowed all the winders out an the doors too.
It blowed the dishwasher guy right thru a wall, an the guy what was stackin plates jus took off up in the air, sort of like Rocket Man.
Sergeant an me, we is miraculously spared somehow, like they say will happen when you are so close to a han grenade that you aren’t hurt by it. But somehow it blowed both our clothes off, cept for the big chef’s hat I was wearin at the time. An it blowed stew all over us, so’s we looked like-well, I don’t know what we looked like-but man, it was strange.
Incredibly, it didn’t do nothin to all them guys settin out there in the mess hall neither. Jus lef em settin at they tables, covered with stew, actin kinda shell-shocked or somethin-but it sure did shut their asses up about when they food is gonna be ready.
Suddenly the company commander come runnin into the buildin.
“What was that!” he shouted. “What happen?” He look at the two of us, an then holler, “Sergeant Kranz, is that you?”
“Gump-Boiler-Stew!” the sergeant say, an then he kind of git holt of hissef an grapped a meat cleaver off the wall.
“Gump-Boiler-Stew!” he scream, an come after me with the cleaver. I done run out the door, an he be chasin me all over the parade grounds, an even thru the Officer’s Club an the Motorpool. I outrunned him tho, cause that is my specialty, but let me say this: they ain’t no question in my mind that I am up the creek for sure.
One night, the next fall, the phone rung in the barracks an it was Bubba. He say they done dropped his atheletic scholarship cause his foot broke worst than they thought, an so he’s leavin school too. But he axed if I can git off to come up to Birmingham to watch the University play them geeks from Mississippi. But I am confined to quarters that Saturday, as I have been ever weekend since the stew blowed up and that’s nearly a year. Anyway, I cannot do it, so I listen to the game on the radio while I’m scrubbin out the latrine.
The score is very close at the end of the third quarter, an Snake is having hissef a big day. It is 38 to 37 our way, but the geeks from Mississippi score a touchdown with only one minute to go. Suddenly, its forth down an no more time-outs for us. I prayin silently that Snake don’t do what he done at the Orange Bowl, which is to thow the ball out of bounds on fourth down an lose the game again, but that is exactly what he done.
