"Well, sure, but..."

"I just want you to know that I loved you, and also, Forrest, you are very fine."

"Hey," I says, but when I looked up, they was just the big ole bell buoy rockin back an forth in the mist. Nothin else. An so I rowed on back to shore.

So I gone back into the processin plant that afternoon. Most everbody else has went home now, an I sort of wandered around by mysef, feelin a little bit alone. In a few offices I could see lights on, people workin late, so's we could have a successful bidness.

They was one little room in the plant that I liked. It was where we kept the pearls. It wadn't no bigger than a closet, but inside, with some tools an other stuff, we kept a bucket. Actually, it was the workers that kept the bucket, an in the bucket was the pearls.

They weren't much as pearls go. Japanese oysters got all the nice pearls, but ever so often our shuckers will find a ole pearl or so, usually kinda funny-shaped or ugly-colored, but by the end of the year, they would usually be enough pearls that was usable for us to sell em an get enough cash for a beer bust for the shuckin an floor crews, so that's what we did.

But when I gone by the pearl closet, I heard a odd sound comin from it, an when I opened the door, there was Sergeant Kranz, settin on a stool, an when I looked at him, settin under a twenty-watt bulb, I could see his eyes was red.

"Why, Sergeant, what's wrong?" I ast.

"Nothin" was what he said.

"Sergeant Kranz. I have known you for many years. I ain't never seen you cryin before."

"Yeah, well, you won't again, neither. Besides, I ain't cryin."

"Uh-huh. Well, I am the head of this here operation, an it is my bidness to know what's wrong with my people."

"Since when have I become 'your people,' Gump?" he says.

"Since the day I met you, Sergeant." An we kind of stared at each other for a moment, an then I seen big ole tears begun to roll down his cheeks.

"Well, damn, Gump," he says, "I just guess I'm too ole for this shit."

"What you mean, Sergeant Kranz?"

"It was that Smitty, an his crew," he says.

"What happened?"

"I gone down to check on our boats, an he come after me with his gang. An when I was checkin the lines on our skiffs, he begun to pee in one of my boats, an when I said somethin, he an the others grapped me an begun beatin me with dead mullets..."

"They done what!"

"An Smitty, he called me a nigger. First time anybody ever done that to my face."

"Issat so?" I ast.

"You heard what I said, Gump. Wadn't nothin I could do—Hell, I'm fifty-nine years old. How I'm gonna defend mysef against eight or ten big ole white boys, ain't half my age?"

"Well, Sergeant..."

"Well, my ass. I never thought I'd see the day I wouldn't of fought them. But it wouldn't of done no good. I'd of just got beat up—an that wouldn't of mattered, either, cause of what he called me—except you tole me not to get into any shit with Smitty an his bunch. I would of tried, but it wouldn't of done no good."

"You look here, Sergeant Kranz. That don't matter now. You just stay here till I get back, you hear. An that's a order."

"I don't take orders from privates, Gump."

"Well, you'll take this one," I says.

An so I gone on down to see about this Smitty bidness.

All my life I have tried to do the right thing, the only way I saw it. An my mama always tole me the right thing is not to start pickin fights with folks, especially account of I am so big an dumb. But sometimes, you cannot let the right thing stand in your way.

It was a long walk down the street in Bayou La Batre to where the docks is, an so I spose Smitty an his people seen me comin, cause when I got there, they is all lined up, an Smitty is standin in front of the bunch.

Also, I din't notice it, but a lot of the folks from our Gump & Company oyster plant has follered me down there, an the ones that can, are lookin unhappy, like they mean bidness, too.

I gone up to Smitty an ast him what happened with Sergeant Kranz.

"Ain't nothin to you, Gump," he says. "We was just havin some fun."

"You call a gang of you beatin a fifty-nine-year-ole man with dead mullets fun?"

"Hell, Gump, he ain't nothin but a ole nigger. Whatsittoyou?"

An so I showed him.

First I grapped him by the jacket an lifted him off the ground. Then I thowed him into a pile of seagull shit that had been collectin on the dock. An wiped his nose in it.

Then I turned him around an kicked his big ass over the dock into one of his own oyster boats. An when he landed in it on his back, I unzipped my pants an peed on him from the wharf above.

"You ever fool with one of my people again," I tole him, "you will wish you had been brought up as a vegetable or somethin." It was probly not the wittiest thing I could of thought of to say, but at the moment I was not feelin witty.

Just about then somethin hit me in the arm. One of Smitty's men has got a board with nails in it, an let me say this: It hurt. But I was not in no mood to be screwed with. So I grapped him, too, an they happened to be a big ole ice machine nearby, an I stuffed him into it, headfirst. Another guy come at me with a tire tool, but I seized him by the hair an begun swingin him around an around until I let him go, like a discus or somethin, an last time I looked, he was headin for Cuba or maybe Jamaica. All them other goons, after seein this, they backed off.

All I says was "Remember what you seen here. You don't want it to happen to you." An that was it.

It was gettin dark by now, an all the folks from Gump & Company was cheerin, an also booin Smitty an his collection of turds. In the dimness I got a glance of Sergeant Kranz standin there, noddin his head. I give him a wink an he give me the thumbs-up sign. We has been friends for a long time, me an Sergeant Kranz, an I think we understand one another.

About this time, I feel a tuggin at my sleeve. It is little Forrest, who is lookin at the blood on my arm from where the goon hit me with the board full of nails.

"You arright, Dad?" he ast.

"Huh?"

"I said you arright, Dad; you are bleedin."

"What you call me?"

"I love you, Dad" was what he said. An that was enough for me. Yessir.

Yessir.

An so that's how it ends, more or less. After the crowd drifted away I walked on down to the bayou where they is a point that looks out over the bay an the Mississippi Sound an then on out into the Gulf beyond it, an if you could, you could see clear down to Mexico, or South America. But it was still a little misty that evenin, an so I went an set down on a ole park bench, an little Forrest come an set beside me. We didn't say nothin, cause I think it had been about all said, but it got me to thinkin what a lucky feller I am. I got me a job, a son proud an tall, an I had me some friends in my day, too. I couldn't help but remember em all. Ole Bubba, an Jenny, an my mama, an Dan, an Sue, is gone now, but probly not too far, cause ever time I hear a big ole foghorn on the water, or a bell from a bell buoy, I think of them; they is out there someplace. An there is little Forrest, an Jenny's mama, an Sergeant Kranz, an all the rest, still here. An I ain't forgot what Jenny said about Gretchen, neither. An so, in a way, I am the luckiest feller in the world.

They is just one more thing to tell, an that is when they decided to make a movie of my life's story. That is unusual, even for me. Somebody got wind of the fact that I am a idiot who has made good, an in these days it is what they call a "man bites dog" sort of story.

So one day these Hollywood producers come an inform me I am gonna be in the motion pitchers. Well, a lot of you know the rest. They done made the show, an everbody all over the world went to see it. Mr. Tom Hanks that I met in New York that night, he played my part in the movie—an was pretty good, too.