Gump and Co - By Winston Groom Page 0,15

about to get out of hand when, without no warnin, the door to the mirror room bust open an they is a little man standin there wearin a suit an tie an steel-rimmed glasses, kinda look like a Nazi German.

"Alice," he shouts, "I think I have got it figured out! If we put some steel-wool shavings into the formula, it will make it quit tasting like turpentine!"

"Jesus God, Alfred!" Mrs. Hopewell hollers. "What are you doing home this time of day!" She done bolted upright an was tryin to pull the towel up around hersef to look decent.

"My researchers," the feller says, "have found the solution!"

"Solution! Solution to what?" Mrs. Hopewell asts.

"The 'New Coke,' " he says. The feller strides into the room, actin like I'm not even there. "I think we got a way to get people to drink it."

"Oh, for godssake, Alfred. Who would want to drink that crap anyhow?" Mrs. Hopewell looks like she's about to burst into tears. She ain't got but that one towel, an she is tryin to cover hersef up, bottom an top, with it. Ain't workin too good, an so she is grappin for her nighty, which is on the floor, but ever time she graps for it, the towel falls off. I am tryin to look away again, but the mirrors won't give me no other view.

About this time, Alfred, I guess was his name, noticed me.

"Are you the masseuse?" he ast.

"Sort of," I says.

"That your CokeCola?"

"Yup."

"You're drinking it?"

"Uh huh."

"No shit?"

I nodded. I didn't exactly know what to say, account of it is his new invention.

"And it don't taste awful?" His eyes got big as biscuits.

"Not now," I says. "I fixed it."

"Fixed it? How?"

"I put some stuff in it from the kitchen."

"Let me see that," he says. He took the glass an helt it up to the light an examined it, sort of like a person will examine somethin nasty in a laboratory jar. Then he drunk a little sip of it an got a kind of squinty look in his eyes. He look at me, then at Mrs. Hopewell, then he slugged down a big ole swallow.

"My God!" he says. "This shit ain't half bad!"

He drunk some more an get a real amazed look on his face, like he was seein a vision or somethin.

"You fixed this!" he shouts. "How in hell did you fix it?"

"I done put a few things from that pantry in it," I says.

"You! The masseuse?"

"He's not exactly a masseuse," Mrs. Hopewell says.

"He's not? Then what is he?"

"I'm a encyclopedia salesman," I says.

"Encyclopedias - Huh?" Alfred says. "Then what are you doing here? With my wife?"

"It is kind of a long story," I tole him.

"Well, it doesn't matter," he says. "We'll get to that later. What I want to know now is what in hell did you do to this CokeCola? Tell me! My God, tell me!"

"I dunno, exactly," I says. "It was like, well, it didn't taste so good at first, an I thought it could have stood some doctorin up, you know?"

"Didn't taste good! Why, you moron, it tasted like shit! Don't you think I know that? And you have made it at least drinkable! Do you have any idea what something like this is worth? Millions! Billions! C'mon now, try to remember. What was it, er - What's your name, anyhow?"

"Gump," I says. "Forrest Gump."

"Yes, Gump - well, c'mon now, Gump - let's go real slow through exactly what you did to this stuff. Show me what you put in it."

So that's what I did, except I couldn't remember everthin. I got out some of the little bottles an jars an stuff an tried to do it again, but I never could seem to get it quite right again. We tried an tried again, maybe fifty times, until it was way past midnight, but each time ole Alfred spit the stuff out in the sink an says it ain't like the first batch. Meantime, Mrs. Hopewell is about on her twentieth gin an orange juice.

"You fools," she says once. "There ain't no way to make that crap any good. Why don't we all go lay down in the bed an see what happens?"

"Shut up, Alice," Alfred says. "Don't you see this is the opportunity of a lifetime!"

"Opportunity of a lifetime is what I just suggested," says Mrs. Hopewell, an she goes back out in the mirror room an starts beatin on the gong. Finally, Alfred leans up against the icebox an puts his