The Grapes of Wrath | Page 5

Cat's all over hell now. Tear in and shove the croppers out.
How's your old man hold on?" His tongue and his jaws became busy with the
neglected gum, turned it and chewed it. With each opening of his mouth his tongue
could be seen flipping the gum over.
"Well, I ain't heard lately. I never was no hand to write, nor my old man neither."
He added quickly, "But the both of us can, if we want."
"Been doing a job?" Again the secret investigating casualness. He looked out over
the fields, at the shimmering air, and gather ing his gum into his cheek, out of the way,
he spat out the window.
"Sure have," said the hitch-hiker.
"Thought so. I seen your hands. Been swingin' a pick or an ax or a sledge. That
shines up your hands. I notice all st uff like that. Take a pride in it."
The hitch-hiker stared at him. The tr uck tires sang on the road. "Like to know
anything else? I'll tell you. You ain't got to guess."
"Now don't get sore. I wasn't gettin' nosy."
"I'll tell you anything. I ain't hidin' nothin'."

"Now don't get sore. I just like to notice things. Makes the time pass."
"I'll tell you anything. Name's Joad, Tom Jo ad. Old man is ol' Tom Joad." His eyes
rested broodingly on the driver.
"Don't get sore. I didn't mean nothin'."
"I don't mean nothin' neither," said Joad. "I 'm just tryin' to get along without shovin'
nobody around." He stopped and looked out at th e dry fields, at the starved tree clumps
hanging uneasily in the heated distance. From his side pocket he brought out his
tobacco and papers. He rolled his cigarette down between his knees, where the wind
could not get at it.
The driver chewed as rhythmically, as t houghtfully, as a cow. He waited to let the
whole emphasis of the preceding passage disa ppear and be forgotten. At last, when the
air seemed neutral again, he said, "A guy that never been a truck skinner don't know
nothin' what it's like. Owners don't want us to pick up nobody. So we got to set here an'
just skin her along 'less we want to take a chance of gettin' fired like I just done with
you."
"'Preciate it," said Joad.
"I've knew guys that done screwy things while they're drivin' trucks. I remember a
guy use' to make up poetry. It passed the tim e." He looked over secretly to see whether
Joad was interested or amazed. Joad was si lent, looking into the distance ahead, along
the road, along the white road that waved ge ntly, like a ground swell. The driver went
on at last, "I remember a piece of poetry this here guy wrote down. It was about him
an' a couple of other guys goin' all over the wo rld drinkin' and raisin' hell and screwin'
around. I wisht I could remember how that pi ece went. This guy had words in it that
Jesus H. Christ wouldn't know what they mean t. Part was like this: 'An' there we spied
a nigger, with a trigger that was bigger than a elephant's proboscis or the whanger of a
whale.' That proboscis is a nos e-like. With a elephant it's his trunk. Guy showed me a
dictionary. Carried that dicti onary all over hell with him. He'd look in it while he's
pulled up gettin' his pie an' coffee." He stopped, feeling lonely in the long speech. His
secret eyes turned on his passenger. Joad rema ined silent. Nervously the driver tried to
force him into participation. "Ever know a guy that said big words like that?"
"Preacher," said Joad.
"Well, it makes you mad to hear a guy use bi g words. 'Course with a preacher it's all
right because nobody would fool around with a preacher anyway. But this \
guy was
funny. You didn't give a damn when he said a big word 'cause he just done it for ducks.
He wasn't puttin' on no dog." The driver was reassured. He knew at least that Joad was
listening. He swung the great truck viciously around a bend and the tires shrilled. "Like
I was sayin'," he continued, "guy that driv es a truck does screwy things. He got to.
He'd go nuts just settin' here an' the road sneakin' under the wheels. Fella says once
that truck skinners eats all the time—all the time in hamburger joints along the road."
"Sure seem to live there," Joad agreed.
"Sure they stop, but it ain't to eat. They ain't hardly ever hungry. They're just
goddamn sick of