The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck [105]
“What’s he gonna do?’’
“I dunno. He’s too mad to figger. An’ we couldn’ wait. On’y had eighty-five dollars to go on. We couldn’ set an’ cut it up, but we et it up anyways. Didn’ go a hunderd mile when a tooth in the rear end bust, an’ cost thirty dollars to get her fix’, an’ then we got to get a tire, an’ then a spark plug cracked, an’ Sairy got sick. Had ta stop ten days. An’ now the goddamn car is bust again, an’ money’s gettin’ low. I dunno when we’ll ever get to California. ’F I could on’y fix a car, but I don’ know nothin’ about ’em.’’
Al asked importantly, “What’s the matter?’’
“Well, she jus’ won’t run. Starts an’ farts an’ stops. In a minute she’ll start again, an’ then ’fore you can git her goin’, she peters out again.’’
“Runs a minute an’ then dies?’’
“Yes, sir. An’ I can’t keep her a-goin’ no matter how much gas I give her. Got worse an’ worse, an’ now I cain’t get her a-movin’ a-tall.’’
Al was very proud and very mature, then. “I think you got a plugged gas line. I’ll blow her out for ya.’’
And Pa was proud too. “He’s a good hand with a car,’’ Pa said.
“Well, I’ll sure thank ya for a han’. I sure will. Makes a fella kinda feel—like a little kid, when he can’t fix nothin’. When we get to California I aim to get me a nice car. Maybe she won’t break down.’’
Pa said, “When we get there. Gettin’ there’s the trouble.’’
“Oh, but she’s worth it,’’ said Wilson. “Why, I seen han’bills how they need folks to pick fruit, an’ good wages. Why, jus’ think how it’s gonna be, under them shady trees a-pickin’ fruit an’ takin’ a bite ever’ once in a while. Why, hell, they don’t care how much you eat ’cause they got so much. An’ with them good wages, maybe a fella can get hisself a little piece a land an’ work out for extra cash. Why, hell, in a couple years I bet a fella could have a place of his own.’’
Pa said, “We seen them han’bills. I got one right here.’’ He took out his purse and from it took a folded orange handbill. In black type it said, “Pea Pickers Wanted in California. Good Wages All Season. 800 Pickers Wanted.’’
Wilson looked at it curiously. “Why, that’s the one I seen. The very same one. You s’pose—maybe they got all eight hunderd awready?’’
Pa said, “This is jus’ one little part a California. Why, that’s the secon’ biggest State we got. S’pose they did get all them eight hunderd. They’s plenty places else. I rather pick fruit anyways. Like you says, under them trees an’ pickin’ fruit—why, even the kids’d like to do that.’’
Suddenly Al got up and walked to the Wilsons’ touring car. He looked in for a moment and then came back and sat down.
“You can’t fix her tonight,’’ Wilson said.
“I know. I’ll get to her in the morning.’’
Tom had watched his young brother carefully. “I was thinkin’ somepin like that myself,’’ he said.
Noah asked, “What you two fellas talkin’ about?’’
Tom and Al were silent, each waiting for the other. “You tell ’em,’’ Al said finally.
“Well, maybe it’s no good, an’ maybe it ain’t the same thing Al’s thinking. Here she is, anyways. We got a overload, but Mr. an’ Mis’ Wilson ain’t. If some of us folks could ride with them an’ take some a their light stuff in the truck, we wouldn’t break no springs an’ we could git up hills. An’ me an’ Al both knows about a car, so we could keep that car a-rollin’. We’d keep together on the road an’ it’d be good for ever’body.’’
Wilson jumped up. “Why, sure. Why, we’d be proud. We certain’y would. You hear that, Sairy?’’
“It’s a nice thing,’’ said Sairy. “Wouldn’ be a burden on you folks?’’
“No, by God,’’ said Pa. “Wouldn’t be no burden at all. You’d be helpin’ us.’’
Wilson settled back uneasily. “Well, I dunno.’’
“What