Home > Penetrating Interviews > Gump’s Reflections

Gump’s Reflections

By Shane Tibbs

My father often reflects. I discourage this activity. He can’t handle it. It’s not his fault but the “inevitable reverberation of some childhood trauma echoing through [my] vast body,” which are his words not mine. Nevertheless.

He told me my mother is dying.

I said:

“Ok Papa that’s fine with me. And anyway I hold no grip over the reality of bodily expiration.”

He said:

“My boy, my piglet, my little one.”

And trailed off.

We drank about 14 beers apiece and wondered aloud how it’s only black kids on the bus these days. You’ve probably never heard the ‘n’ word so many times between people. The chicken guy was there. He’ll sign off.

Later they found him in a tree.

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