beds. Then there is storms an hurricanes an, of course, your competition."
"Competition? Who is that?"
"All them other fellers out there tryin to catch oysters," he says. "They don't take kindly to somebody new comin in here. An they is a very rough bunch, which I suppose you know."
"Yeah, I kinda remember em that way," I says. It was too true. Them oystermen was not people to fool around with, at least back in the ole days.
"So how do I get started?" I ast.
"Ain't too hard," say Bubba's daddy. "Just get you a ole skiff an some oyster tongs. Don't even have to buy a outboard motor if you don't want to - you can get some oars an row, like they did when I was young."
"That's all?"
"Pretty much, I reckon. I can show you where most of the oyster beds are. Course, you'll have to get a license from the state. That's probly the most expensive part."
"You know where I can buy me a skiff?"
"Matter of fact," says Bubba's daddy, "I got one mysef you can use. It's tied up behind the house. All you'll have to do is find some oars. Mine done broke ten or fifteen years ago."
So that's what I done.
Well, it seemed to me pretty ironic, me bein in the oyster bidness, after ole Lieutenant Dan was all the time talkin about gettin some good oysters to eat. Man, I wish he could be here today. He'd be in hog's heaven!
I started out bright an early next mornin. The day before, I'd used the last of my army pay to buy the oars an get a oysterin license. I also bought a pair of coveralls an some baskets to put the oysters in. The sun was just comin up over the Mississippi Sound when I begun to row toward where Bubba's daddy tole me some oyster beds was. What he tole me was to row out to where I could see Buoy No. 6, line it up with a water tower on shore an with the tip of Petit Bois Island to the south. When I had done this, I was to work my way toward the Lake Aux Herbes, an that's where the oysters would be.
It took me about a hour to find Buoy No. 6, but it wadn't no time from then that I got on the oyster beds. By lunch I had tonged up four bushel baskets of oysters, which was my limit, an so I rowed back into shore.
They was a oyster processin plant in Bayou La Batre, an I carried my oysters there to be counted an sold. Time they tally everthin up, I done made forty-two dollars an sixteen cents, which struck me as a little low for upwards of four hundrit oysters they would turn around an sell in restaurants for a dollar apiece. Unfortunately, though, I wadn't in no position to argue.
I was walkin down the street to catch the bus back to Mobile, the forty-two dollars an sixteen cents still warm in my pocket, when half-a-dozen fellers come aroun the corner an block my way on the sidewalk.
"Kinda new around here, ain't you?" one big feller ast.
"Sort of," I said. "What's it to you?"
"We hear you out there tongin up our oysters," another guy says.
"Since when is they your oysters? I thought they was everbody's oysters in the water."
"Oh, yeah? Well, they is everybody's oysters - if you happen to be from here. We don't take kindly of people who try to barge in on our bidness."
"Well," I says, "my name is Forrest Gump. Used to own the Gump Srimp Company. So I'm kinda from here mysef."
"Oh, yeah? Well, my name's Miller. Smitty Miller. I remember your bidness. Fished us all out of srimp an put everybody out of work to boot."
"Look, Mister Miller," I says, "I don't want no trouble. I got a family to look after, an I just want to tong up a few oysters an be on my way."
"Issat so? Well, you look here, Gump. We gonna be keepin a eye on you. We hear you was hangin aroun with that ole coon thats son got kilt over in Vietnam."
"His name was Bubba. He was my friend."
"Yeah? Well, we don't mix with them people down here, Gump. You gonna hang aroun in this town, you better learn the rules."
"Who makes the rules?" I says.
"We do."
Well, that's how it went. Smitty ain't outright tole me to stop oysterin, but I got a feelin that