Anyway, Miss Hudgins says we got to go out an get me some new clothes that is "fittin for the president of one of Mr. Bozosky's divisions." We gone on over to a tailor shop called Mr. Squeegee's, an is greeted at the door by Mr. Squeegee hissef. He is a little short fat guy with a Hitler-lookin mustache an a bald head.
"Ah, Mr. Gump. I have been expecting you," he says.
Mr. Squeegee done showed me dozens of suits an jackets an pants an cloth patterns an materials - ties an even socks an underpants. Ever time I pick out somethin, Miss Hudgins says, "No, no - that won't do," an she picks out somethin else. Finally, Mr. Squeegee stands me in front of a mirror an begun to take my pants measurements.
"My, my, what a fine specimen you are!" he says.
"You got that right," Miss Hudgins chimes in.
"By the way, Mr. Gump, what side do you dress on?"
"Side of what?" I ast.
"Side, Mr. Gump. Do you dress to the left or the right?"
"Huh?" I says. "I guess it don't matter. I just put on my clothes, you know?"
"Well, er, Mr. Gump..."
"Just dress him for both sides," Miss Hudgins say. "A man like Mr. Gump looks like he can swing any way he wants."
"Right," says Mr. Squeegee.
Next day, Eddie picked me up in the limousine an I gone on down to the office. I had just got there when Ivan Bozosky came in an says, "In a little while, let's do lunch. I got somebody I want you to meet."
All the rest of the mornin I signed the papers Miss Hudgins brought in. I must of signed twenty or thirty, an even though I sort of glanced at what was in a few, I could not understand a word that was in them. After a hour or two, my stomach begun to growl, an I started thinkin about my mama's srimp Creole. Good ole Mama.
Pretty soon, Ivan come in an says it is time for lunch. A limo took us to a restaurant called The Four Seasons, an we is showed to a table where there is a tall skinny guy in a suit with a wolfish look on his face.
"Ah, Mr. Gump," Ivan Bozosky says, "I want you to meet a friend of mine."
The guy stands up an shook my hand.
Mike Mulligan is his name.
Mike Mulligan is apparently a stockbroker who Mr. Bozosky does some bidness with. Mike Mulligan deals in somethin he calls junk bonds, though what anybody would want with a bunch of junk is beyond me. Nevertheless, I get the impression that Mike Mulligan is some kind of big cheese.
After Ivan an Mike had done some chitchat, they get down to bidness with me.
"What will happen, Mr. Gump," says Ivan Bozosky, "is that Mike, here, is going to give you a call from time to time. He will tell you the name of a company, an when he does, I want you to write it down. He will spell the name out very carefully, so you will not make any mistakes. When you have done that, give the name of the company to Miss Hudgins. She will know what to do with it."
"Yeah?" I ast. "An what is that for?"
"The less you know, the better off you are, Gump," says Ivan. "Mr. Mulligan and I occasionally do each other favors. We trade secrets between us, you know what I mean?" At this, he gives me a big ole wink. There is somethin about all this I don't like, an I am about to say so, but then Ivan, he springs me the big news.
"Now, Gump, what I'm thinking is, you need a proper salary. You gotta have enough to keep your son in school and put yourself in the catbird seat financially, and I am thinking about, oh, let's say, two hundred and fifty thousand a year. How does that sound?"
Well, I was sorta dumbstruck. I mean, I have made a bit of money in my day; but that's a lot of bread for an idiot like me. An so I thought about all this for a few seconds, an then just nodded my head.
"Okay," says Ivan Bozosky. "It is a done deal, then." An Mr. Mike Mulligan, he be grinnin like a Cheshire cat.
Over the months, my executive duties went into full swing. I am signin papers like crazy - mergers, acquisitions, buy-outs, sell-outs, puts an calls. One day I come across Ivan Bozosky in the hallway, chucklin to hissef.
"Well, Gump," he says, "this is the kind of day I like. We done bought out five airlines. I changed the names of two of them, and shut the other three down flat. Them sombitchin passengers ain't gonna know what the hell is happenin to em! They get their asses strapped into a city-block-long steel cylinder an shot up in the air at six hundred miles an hour, an when they come down, they ain't even on the same airline as they was when they left!"
"I reckon they will be surprised," I says.
"Not half as much as those turkeys that was flyin on the ones I shut down!" Ivan chuckles. "We sent out orders by radio for the pilots to land immediately, wherever the nearest field is, an let the bastids off, then and there. There's gonna be assholes thinkin they're headed for Paris, gonna be put off cold in Thule, Greenland. Or those who booked in for LA, they gonna wind up in Montana or Wisconsin or someplace!"
"Ain't they gonna be mad?" I ast.
"Screw em," says Ivan, wavin his hands. "That's what it's all about, Gump! Base capitalism! The old fuckeroo! We gotta consolidate, fire people, get folks scared, an then, when they ain't lookin, get our hands in their pockets. That's what the deal is, my boy!"
An so it went, me signin papers an Ivan an Mike Mulligan buyin an sellin. Meantime, I was gettin my taste of the high life in New York City. I gone to Broadway plays an private clubs an charity benefits at Tavern on the Green. Seems like nobody don't cook at home in New York, but go out to restaurants ever night an eat mysterious-lookin food that cost as much as a new suit of clothes. But I guess it don't matter to me, account of I am makin so much money. Miss Hudgins, she is my "escort" at these affairs. She says Ivan Bozosky wants me to keep a "high profile," an indeed this is so. Ever week I am mentioned in the newspaper gossip columns, an many times they run my picture, too. Miss Hudgins says there are three newspapers in New York - the "smart people's paper," the "dumb people's paper," an the "stupid people's paper." But, Miss Hudgins say, everbody who is anybody reads all three, account of they want to see if they are in there.
One night we had got through with a big charity dance an Miss Hudgins was gonna drop me off at the Helmsley Palace before Eddie took her home. But this time, she say she'd like to come up to my suite "for a nightcap." I am wonderin why, but it is not nice to say no to a lady, so we went on up.
Soon as we get inside, Miss Hudgins turns on the hi-fi, goes over to the bar, an makes a drink. Straight scotch. Then she kicks off her shoes an plops down on the sofa in a reclinin pose.
"Why don't you kiss me," she asts.
I gone over an give her a peck on the cheek, but she graps me an hauls me down on top of her.
"Here, Forrest, I want you to sniff this." With one hand, she dumps a little white powder from a vial out on her thumbnail.
"Why?" I ast.
"Cause it'll make you feel good. It'll make you feel powerful."
"Why I need to feel that?"
"Just do it," she says. "Just this one time. If you don't like it, you don't have to do it again."
I didn't much want to, but it seemed harmless enough, you know? Wadn't but a little bit of white powder. An so I done it. Made me sneeze.
"I've waited a long time for this, Forrest," she says. "I want you."
"Ah, well," I says, "I thought we had a sort of workin relationship, you know?"
"Yeah, well, it's time you get to working!" she pants, an begun to undo my tie an grap at me with her hands.
Well, I didn't know what I was sposed to do. I mean, I had always heard it was a mistake to git involved with persons you work with - "Do not foul your own nest" was what Lieutenant Dan used to say - but at this point, I am truly confused. Miss Hudgins was certainly a beautiful woman, an I had not been with a woman, beautiful or otherwise, in a long time... an after all, you are not sposed to say no to a lady... an so I done made all the excuses I could think of in the time allowed, an the next thing I knowed, Miss Hudgins an I was in bed.
After it was over, she smoked a cigarette an thowed on her clothes an left, an I was there alone. She had lit the fire in the fireplace an the logs was flickerin low an orange, an I was not feelin good, like I reckon I was sposed to, but sort of lonely an scared, an wonderin where my life is headed up in New York City. An as I am lyin there, starin at the fire, lo an behole, there suddenly appeared Jenny's face in the flames.