The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck [224]
“Use’ ta be a preacher,’’ said Tom. “Did he tell that?’’
“Sure, he told.’’
Casy grinned. “Well, sir,’’ he went on, “I begin gettin’ at things. Some a them fellas in the tank was drunks, but mostly they was there ’cause they stole stuff; an’ mostly it was stuff they needed an’ couldn’ get no other way. Ya see?’’ he asked.
“No,’’ said Tom.
“Well, they was nice fellas, ya see. What made ’em bad was they needed stuff. An’ I begin to see, then. It’s need that makes all the trouble. I ain’t got it worked out. Well, one day they give us some beans that was sour. One fella started yellin’, an’ nothin’ happened. He yelled his head off. Trusty come along an’ looked in an’ went on. Then another fella yelled. Well, sir, then we all got yellin’. And we all got on the same tone, an’ I tell ya, it jus’ seemed like that tank bulged an’ give and swelled up. By God! Then somepin happened! They come a-runnin’, and they give us some other stuff to eat—give it to us. Ya see?’’
“No,’’ said Tom.
Casy put his chin down on his hands. “Maybe I can’t tell you,’’ he said. “Maybe you got to find out. Where’s your cap?’’
“I come out without it.’’
“How’s your sister?’’
“Hell, she’s big as a cow. I bet she got twins. Gonna need wheels under her stomach. Got to holdin’ it with her han’s, now. You ain’ tol’ me what’s goin’ on.’’
The wizened man said, “We struck. This here’s a strike.’’
“Well, fi’ cents a box ain’t much, but a fella can eat.’’
“Fi’ cents?’’ the wizened man cried. “Fi’ cents! They payin’ you fi’ cents?’’
“Sure. We made a buck an’ a half.’’
A heavy silence fell in the tent. Casy stared out the entrance, into the dark night. “Lookie, Tom,’’ he said at last. “We come to work there. They says it’s gonna be fi’ cents. They was a hell of a lot of us. We got there an’ they says they’re payin’ two an’ a half cents. A fella can’t even eat on that, an’ if he got kids— So we says we won’t take it. So they druv us off. An’ all the cops in the worl’ come down on us. Now they’re payin’ you five. When they bust this here strike—ya think they’ll pay five?’’
“I dunno,’’ Tom said. “Payin’ five now.’’
“Lookie,’’ said Casy. “We tried to camp together, an’ they druv us like pigs. Scattered us. Beat the hell outa fellas. Druv us like pigs. They run you in like pigs, too. We can’t las’ much longer. Some people ain’t et for two days. You goin’ back tonight?’’
“Aim to,’’ said Tom.
“Well—tell the folks in there how it is, Tom. Tell ’em they’re starvin’ us an’ stabbin’ theirself in the back. ’Cause sure as cowflops she’ll drop to two an’ a half jus’ as soon as they clear us out.’’
“I’ll tell ’em,’’ said Tom. “I don’ know how. Never seen so many guys with guns. Don’ know if they’ll even let a fella talk. An’ folks don’ pass no time of day. They jus’ hang down their heads an’ won’t even give a fella a howdy.’’
“Try an’ tell ’em, Tom. They’ll get two an’ a half, jus’ the minute we’re gone. You know what two an’ a half is—that’s one ton of peaches picked an’ carried for a dollar.’’ He dropped his head. “No—you can’t do it. You can’t get your food for that. Can’t eat for that.’’
“I’ll try to get to tell the folks.’’
“How’s your ma?’’
“Purty good. She liked that gov’ment camp. Baths an’ hot water.’’
“Yeah—I heard.’’
“It was pretty nice there. Couldn’ find no work, though. Had a leave.’’
“I’d like to go to one,’’ said Casy. “Like to see it. Fella says they ain’t no cops.’’
“Folks is their own cops.’’
Casy looked up excitedly. “An’ was they any trouble? Fightin’, stealin’, drinkin’?’’
“No,’’ said Tom.
“Well, if a fella went bad—what then? What’d they do?’’
“Put ’im outa the camp.’’
“But they wasn’ many?’’
“Hell, no,’’ said Tom. “We was there a month, an’ on’y one.’’
Casy’s eyes shone with excitement. He turned to the other men. “Ya see?’’ he cried. “I tol’ you. Cops cause more trouble than they stop. Look, Tom. Try an’ get the folks in there to come on out. They can do it in a couple days. Them peaches is ripe. Tell ’em.’’
“They won’t,’’ said Tom. “They’re a-gettin’