So that's what we did. We gone down Fifth Avenue to see the shops an out to the Statue of Liberty an the top of the Empire State Buildin, where little Forrest says he wants to thow somethin off to see how long it takes to land on the ground. I did not let him do that, though. We gone up to Grant's Tomb an down to Broadway, where they was a man exposin himself, an in Central Park, but not for long, account of there was muggers present. We took the subway an come out near the Plaza Hotel, where we stopped in for a CokeCola. The bill come an it was twenty-five dollars.

"That's a bunch of shit," says little Forrest.

"I reckon I can afford it," I says, but he just shook his head an walk on out to the car. I can see he ain't havin such a good time, but what I'm gonna do about it? He don't want to see no plays, an the FAO Schwarz store bores him. I took him to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, an for a while, he seems interested in somethin looks like King Tut's tomb, but then he says it's all just a bunch of ole stuff, an we are on the street again.

I let him off at the apartment an gone back to the office. When Miss Hudgins brought me in another batch of papers to sign, I ast her what I oughta do.

"Well, maybe he'd like to see some famous people, you know?"

"Where I'm gonna find em?"

"Only place in town," she says, "Elaine's restaurant."

"What is that?" I ast.

"You gotta see it to believe it" was Miss Hudgins' answer.

So we went to Elaine's restaurant.

We go there at five o'clock sharp, account of that's the time most people have they supper, but Elaine's restaurant was deserted. It was not the sort of place I had expected; to say it is nothin fancy is a understatement. There was some waiters hangin around, an at the end of the bar was this big ole jolly-lookin lady doin paperwork. I figger her to be Elaine.

While little Forrest waited by the door, I gone over an introduced mysef, an tole her why I was there.

"Fine," Elaine says, "but you come a little early. Most folks don't start showin up here for another four or five hours."

"What? They eat someplace else an come in here later?" last.

"No, you dummy. They are all at cocktail parties or plays or openings or somethin. This is a late-night place."

"Well, you mind if we set down an have our food?"

"Go right ahead."

"Any idea which famous people will be showin up later?" I ast.

"It'll be the usual suspects, I guess. Barbra Streisand, Woody Allen, Kurt Vonnegut, George Plimpton, Lauren Bacall—who knows, maybe Paul Newman or Jack Nicholson's in town."

"They all come here?"

"Sometimes—but listen, there is one rule, and you can't violate it. There will be no goin over to these famous people's tables and disturbin them. No picture taking, no tape recording, no nothin. Now, you just sit right at that big round table. That's the 'family table,' an if any famous people come in that don't have other arrangements, I will put them there, an you can talk to them."

So that's what we did, little Forrest an me. We ate our supper an dessert an then a second dessert, but ain't but a handful of people have arrived at Elaine's. I could tell little Forrest was bored, but I figger this is my last chance to impress him with New York, an just about the time I see him squirmin to leave, the door opens an who should be comin in but Elizabeth Taylor.

After that, the place begun to fill up very fast. Bruce Willis an Donald Trump an Cher, the movie star. Sure enough, in comes George Plimpton with his friend, a Mister Spinelli, an the writer William Styron. Woody Allen arrives with a whole entourage, as does the writers Kurt Vonnegut an Norman Mailer an Robert Ludlum. They was all sorts of beautiful people, wearin expensive clothes an furs. I had read about some of them in the papers, an was tryin to explain who they was to little Forrest.

Unfortunately, all of them seem to have other plans, an are sittin with each other, an not with us. After a while, Elaine comes over an sets down, I guess so we do not feel too lonely.

"I guess it's a light night for bachelors," she says.

"Yup," I says. "But even if we can't talk to them, maybe you could tell us what they is talkin about with each other—just to give little Forrest an idea of what famous people talk about."

"Talk about?" says Elaine. "Well, the movie stars, they are talkin about themselves, I imagine."

"What about the writers?" I ast.

"Writers?" she says. "Huh. They are talkin about what they always talk about—baseball, money, and pieces of ass."

About this time the door open an a feller come in, an Elaine motions him over to the table to sit down.

"Mr. Gump, I want you to meet Tom Hanks," she says.

"Pleased to meet you," I say, an introduce him to little Forrest.

"I've seen you," little Forrest says, "on television."

"You an actor?" I ast.

"Sure am," Tom Hanks says. "What about you?"

So I tole him a little bit about my checkered career, an after he listened for a while, Tom Hanks says, "Well, Mr. Gump, you are sure a curious feller. Sounds like somebody ought to make a movie of your life's story."

"Nah," I says, "ain't nobody be interested in somethin stupid like that."

"You never know," says Tom Hanks. " 'Life is like a box of chocolates.' By the way, I just happen to have a box of chocolates right here—You wanna buy some?"

"Nah, I don't think so, I ain't big on chocolates—but thanks, anyhow."

Tom Hanks looks at me kinda funny. "Well, 'stupid is as stupid looks,' I always say." An at that, he gets up an goes to another table.

Next mornin, there is a serious disturbance at Ivan Bozosky's offices.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" shouts Miss Hudgins. "They have arrested Mr. Bozosky!"

"Who have?" I ast.

"The police," she hollered. "Who else arrests people! They have taken him to jail!"

"What'd he do?"

"Insider trading!" she yelled. "They have accused him of insider trading!"

"But I am the president of the insider trading division," I says. "How come they didn't arrest me?"

"It ain't too late for that, bigshot." The voice belonged to a big ole ugly-lookin detective who was standin in the doorway. Behind him was two cops in uniforms.

"You just come along peaceful, now, an there won't be any trouble."

I done what he tole me, but his last line was pure bullshit.

So I am thowed in jail again. I might of known all this couldn't last forever, but I didn't expect there would be such a big deal about it all. Not only have they arrested Ivan Bozosky, but they have thowed Mike Mulligan in jail, too, an various other folks in the bidness. Miss Hudgins is also locked up as a "material witness." They give me one phone call to make, so I phoned little Forrest at the Helmsley an tole him I would not be home for supper. I just could not bring mysef to say his daddy was in the jug again.

Anyhow, Ivan, he is in the ajoinin cell to mine, an to my surprise, he is lookin rather chipper.

"Well, Gump, I believe the time has come for you to do your trained bear act," he says.

"Yeah, what is that?"

"Just what you did for Colonel North—lie, cover up, take the blame."

"For who?"

"For me, you stupo! Why in hell do you think I made you president of my insider trading division? Because of your brains and good looks? To take the heat, in case of something like this, is why I hired you."

"Oh," I says. I might of knowed there was a catch.

Over the next few days, I am interrogated by about a hundrit cops an lawyers an investigators for all sorts of financial agencies. But I don't tell em nothin. I just kep my big mouth shut, which pissed em off royally, but ain't nothin they can do. They is so many of them, I can't tell which is representin me an Mr. Bozosky an Mike Mulligan, an who is against us. Don't matter. I am quiet as a clam.