"Yeah, who's that with you?"
"Her name's Wanda."
"You got a girl with you?"
"Sort of," I says.
"What you mean, sort of—you got some kind of transvestite there?"
"Nope. She's a polled Duroc hog, might win some prizes one day."
"Hog?" he says. "Greatgodamighty! I ain't had nothin to eat in a week."
I can see this might be a long trip.
Chapter Five
After a little bit on the train, the feller's candle burnt out, an after he coughs for a while, it seem like he has dozed off. An so we rode on in the dark with the wheels clackin an the boxcar swayin an rockin, an finally Wanda done put her head in my lap an gone to sleep. Me, though, I stayed up for a while, wonderin how in hell I am always gettin myself into these kinds of fixes. Everthin I touch, it seems, turns directly to shit. Literally.
Next mornin there is a faint little light comin in through the doors of the boxcar, an the feller in the corner begins to stir an starts coughin again.
"Hey," he says, "why don't you open the doors a little an get us some fresh air?"
I gone over an opened the door about a foot or so. We is passin by houses an some dingy ole buildins, an everthin is gray an cold, cept for a few little Christmas decorations on people's doors.
"Where we headed?" I ast.
"Near as I can figger, Washington, D.C.," the feller say.
"Hell, I been there," I says.
"That a fact."
"Yup, long time ago. I went to see the President."
"What of?"
"The United States."
"What, was there a parade or somethin?"
"Nah, it wadn't no parade. I went to his house."
"Yeah, I bet that pig of yours flew over it, too."
"Huh? Wanda don't fly."
"I know," he says.
I turned aroun to look at him, an there is somethin terribly familiar about the feller's eyes, though his face is covered with a black beard an he is wearin a ole hobo-lookin hat.
"Say," I ast, "what's your name, anyhow?"
"What's it to ya?"
"Well, you look sort of like somebody I knowed once, that's all."
"Yeah? Who?"
"A feller from the army. Way back in Vietnam."
"What'd you say your name was again?"
"Gump."
"Yeah? I knew a Gump one time. What's your first name?"
"Forrest."
"Oh, shit!" the feller says, an he thows his arms up over his face. "I might of known it!"
"Well, who in hell are you?" I ast.
"Goodgodamighty, Forrest, don't you recognize me?"
I crawled across the straw an got up real close to his face.
"Why, you're..."
"No, I reckon you don't. I wouldn't expect you to—I've kinda gone down recently," he says in between coughs.
"Lieutenant Dan!" I shouted, an grapped him by the shoulders. But when I looked into his eyes, they is a awful sort of milky white, like he can't see or somethin.
"Lieutenant Dan—what has happened to you?" I says. "Your eyes..."
"I'm mostly about half blind now, Forrest."
"But how?"
"Well, it's a lot of things," he says. An when I get a better look, it is really terrible. He is thin as a rail an dressed in rags. The little stumps where his legs was are pitiful lookin, an his teeth are bad.
"I suppose it's all that stuff from Vietnam catchin up with me," he says. "You know, it wasn't just my legs that was shot—it was all up in my chest an stomach, too. I reckon after a while it caught up with me. Say—what's that smell? Is that you? You smell like shit!"
"Yeah, I know," I says. "An it is a long story."
Well, Lieutenant Dan begun to cough again so hard I laid him down an gone over to my side of the boxcar, thinkin it might be my smell that was makin him do it. I just couldn't believe it! He looked like a ghost, an I am wonderin how he wound up in such sorry shape, especially after all the money he got from our srimpin bidness, but I figger there is time to ast about that later. In a little bit, he stop coughin an dozed off again, an I am settin there with Wanda, wonderin what is gonna happen to us all.
About a hour to two later, the train slowed down. Lieutenant Dan starts coughin again, so I reckon he is awake.
"All right, now, Forrest," he says, "we gotta get off of here before the train comes to a full stop, else they will call the police on us and put us in jail."
I looked out the crack in the doors, an we is comin into a big ole railroad yard with a bunch of rusty freight cars an junk an ole cabooses, an a lot of trash an garbage blowin in the cold wind.
"This is the Union Station," Dan says. "They have remodeled it just for us."
Just then, the train come to a stop an then begun to back up slowly.
"Okay, Forrest, now's our chance," Dan says. "Open that door and let's get out of here."
I thowed open the doors an jumped out. Ole Wanda is standin there with her snout pokin out of the boxcar, an I runned up beside her an grapped her by the ear an pulled her down. She let out a big "oink" when she hit the ground. Next, I runned up to where Dan was settin, right behin her in the boxcar door, an grapped him by the shoulders an set him down easy as I could. He was carryin his artificial legs with him, but they was pretty scuffed up an dirty.
"Let's crawl under that freight over there before the engine comes by an they see us," Dan says. So that's what we did. Finally we has arrived in our nation's capitol.
It is freezin cold an the wind is whippin up around us, an there are little snowflakes in the air.
"Forrest, I hate to tell you this, but I think you gotta get cleaned up before we go out an take in the sights," Dan says. "I saw a pretty big mud puddle back there, if you know what I mean."
So, while Dan strapped on his artificial legs, I gone over to the mud puddle an took off my clothes an got in an tried to rinse off as much pig shit as I could. Wadn't easy, cause it had mostly dried by now, specially in my hair, but somehow I did it, an after that, I washed my clothes an put em back on. It was not the most pleasant experience of my career. When I was finished Wanda took a turn hersef, figgerin, I spose, she was not gonna be outdone.
"Let's walk on up to the station," Dan says. "Least it's warm in there and you can dry out."
"What about Wanda?" I ast.
"I been thinkin about that," he says. "Here's what we do."
While I am takin my bath, Dan has found a ole piece of rope, an when Wanda got through with hers, he ties it around her neck for a leash. He has also picked up a long stick, an when he takes Wanda's leash in his hand an walks behin her with the stick, tappin it on the ground, damn if he don't look like a blind man on the street! Well, sort of, anyhow.
"We'll see how this works," he says. "You let me do the talking."
So we gone on into the Union Station, which is filled with all sorts of fancy-lookin people, most of who is lookin right at us.
I looked down on a empty bench an there is a copy of The Washington Post, all messed up, but somebody done turned to a page inside that says: IDIOT CAUSES NOXIOUS BLAST IN WEST VIRGINIA. I just couldn't help but read it:
Longtime Senator Robert Byrd of West Virginia said he has "seen some shit in his lifetime," but nothing to compare with the humiliating experience he underwent in the small mining village of Coalville yesterday.
Byrd, a staunch supporter of businesses small and large in his native state, was standing on a speakers' platform with a dozen other luminaries, including representatives of the U.S. Army and the federal EPA, when a terrible methane gas explosion tore through the town, covering everything and everyone in sight with an unsightly patina of swine manure.