The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck [234]
“Feel bad?’’ Uncle John asked.
“Yeah! Feel bad all a time. Wisht I could set still in a nice place. Wisht we was home an’ never come. Connie wouldn’ a went away if we was home. He would a studied up an’ got someplace.’’ Neither Al nor Uncle John answered her. They were embarrassed about Connie.
At the white painted gate to the ranch a guard came to the side of the truck. “Goin’ out for good?’’
“Yeah,’’ said Al. “Goin’ north. Got a job.’’
The guard turned his flashlight on the truck, turned it up into the tent. Ma and Pa looked stonily down into the glare. “O.K.” The guard swung the gate open. The truck turned left and moved toward 101, the great north-south highway.
“Know where we’re a-goin’?’’ Uncle John asked.
“No,’’ said Al. “Jus’ goin’, an’ gettin’ goddamn sick of it.’’
“I ain’t so tur’ble far from my time,’’ Rose of Sharon said threateningly. “They better be a nice place for me.’’
The night air was cold with the first sting of frost. Beside the road the leaves were beginning to drop from the fruit trees. On the load, Ma sat with her back against the truck side, and Pa sat opposite, facing her.
Ma called, “You all right, Tom?’’
His muffled voice came back, “Kinda tight in here. We all through the ranch?’’
“You be careful,’’ said Ma. “Might git stopped.’’
Tom lifted up one side of his cave. In the dimness of the truck the pots jangled. “I can pull her down quick,’’ he said. “ ’Sides, I don’ like gettin’ trapped in here.’’ He rested up on his elbow. “By God, she’s gettin’ cold, ain’t she?’’
“They’s clouds up,’’ said Pa. “Fellas says it’s gonna be an early winter.’’
“Squirrels a-buildin’ high, or grass seeds?’’ Tom asked. “By God, you can tell weather from anythin’. I bet you could find a fella could tell weather from a old pair of underdrawers.’’
“I dunno,’’ Pa said. “Seems like it’s gittin’ on winter to me. Fella’d have to live here a long time to know.’’
“Which way we a-goin’?’’ Tom asked.
“I dunno. Al, he turned off lef’. Seems like he’s goin’ back the way we come.’’
Tom said, “I can’t figger what’s best. Seems like if we get on the main highway they’ll be more cops. With my face this-a-way, they’d pick me right up. Maybe we oughta keep to back roads.’’
Ma said, “Hammer on the back. Get Al to stop.’’
Tom pounded the front board with his fist; the truck pulled to a stop on the side of the road. Al got out and walked to the back. Ruthie and Winfield peeked out from under their blanket.
“What ya want?’’ Al demanded.
Ma said, “We got to figger what to do. Maybe we better keep on the back roads. Tom says so.’’
“It’s my face,’’ Tom added. “Anybody’d know. Any cop’d know me.’’
“Well, which way you wanta go? I figgered north. We been south.’’
“Yeah,’’ said Tom, “but keep on back roads.’’
Al asked, “How ’bout pullin’ off an’ catchin’ some sleep, goin’ on tomorra? ’’
Ma said quickly, “Not yet. Le’s get some distance fust.’’
“O.K.” Al got back in his seat and drove on.
Ruthie and Winfield covered up their heads again. Ma called, “Is Winfiel’ all right?’’
“Sure, he’s awright,’’ Ruthie said. “He been sleepin’.’’
Ma leaned back against the truck side. “Gives ya a funny feelin’ to be hunted like. I’m gittin’ mean.’’
“Ever’body’s gittin’ mean,’’ said Pa. “Ever’body. You seen that fight today. Fella changes. Down that gov’ment camp we wasn’ mean.’’
Al turned right on a graveled road, and the yellow lights shuddered over the ground. The fruit trees were gone now, and cotton plants took their place. They drove on for twenty miles through the cotton, turning, angling on the country roads. The road paralleled a bushy creek and turned over a concrete bridge and followed the stream on the other side. And then, on the edge of the creek the lights showed a long line of red boxcars, wheelless; and a big sign on the edge of the road said, “Cotton Pickers Wanted.’’ Al slowed down. Tom peered between the side-bars of the truck. A quarter of a mile past the boxcars Tom hammered on the car again. Al stopped beside the road and got out again.
“Now what ya want?’’
“Shut off the engine an’ climb up here,’’ Tom said.