The Grapes of Wrath | Page 6

goin'—get sick of it. Join ts is the only place you can pull up, an' when
you stop you got to buy somepin so you can sl ing the bull with the broad behind the
counter. So you get a cup of coffee and a pi ece pie. Kind of gives a guy a little rest."
He chewed his gum slowly and turned it with his tongue.
"Must be tough," said Joad with no emphasis.

The driver glanced quickly at him, looking for satire. "Well, it ain't no goddamn
cinch," he said testily. "Looks easy, jus' se ttin' here till you put in your eight or maybe
your ten or fourteen hours. But the road ge ts into a guy. He's got to do somepin. Some
sings an' some whistles. Company won't let us have no radio. A few takes a pint along,
but them kind don't stick long." He said the last smugly. "I don't never take a drink till
I'm through."
"Yeah?" Joad asked.
"Yeah! A guy got to get ahead. Why, I'm thinkin' of takin' one of them
correspondence school courses. Mechanical engineering. It's easy. Just study a few
easy lessons at home. I'm thinkin' of it. Then I won't drive no truck. Then I'll tell other
guys to drive trucks."
Joad took a pint of whisky from his side coat pocket. "Sure you won't have a snort?"
His voice was teasing.
"No, by God. I won't touch it. A guy can't drink liquor all the time and study like
I'm goin' to."
Joad uncorked the bottle, took two quick swallows, recorked it, and put \
it back in
his pocket. The spicy hot smell of the whisky filled the cab. "You're all wound up,"
said Joad. "What's the matter—got a girl?"
"Well, sure. But I want to get ahead anywa y. I been training my mind for a hell of a
long time."
The whisky seemed to loosen Joad up. He ro lled another cigarette and lighted it. "I
ain't got a hell of a lot further to go," he said.
The driver went on quickly, "I don't need no shot," he said. "I train my mind all the
time. I took a course in that two years ago." He patted the steering wheel with his right
hand. "Suppose I pass a guy on the road. I look at him an' after I'm past I try to
remember ever'thing about him, kind a clothe s an' shoes an' hat, an' how he walked an'
maybe how tall an' what weight an' any s cars, I do it pretty good. I can jus' make a
whole picture in my head. Sometimes I th ink I ought to take a course to be a
fingerprint expert. You'd be su'pri sed how much a guy can remember."
Joad took a quick drink from the flask. He dragged the last smoke from his raveling
cigarette and then, with callu sed thumb and forefinger, crushed out the glowing end.
He rubbed the butt to a pulp and put it out th e window, letting the breeze suck it from
his fingers. The big tires sang a high note on the pavement. Joad's dark quiet eyes
became amused as he stared along the road. The driver waited and glanced uneasily
over. At last Joad's long uppe r lip grinned up from his teeth and he chuckled silently,
his chest jerked with the chuckles. "You sure took a hell of a long time to get to it,
buddy."
The driver did not look over. "G et to what? How do you mean?"
Joad's lips stretched tight over his long t eeth for a moment, and he licked his lips
like a dog, two licks, one in each direction from the middle. His voice became harsh.
"You know what I mean. You give me a goin'- over when I first got in. I seen you." The
driver looked straight ahead, gripped the wheel so tightly that the pads of his palms
bulged, and the backs of his hands paled. Joad continued, "You know where I come
from." The driver was silent. "Don't you?" Joad insisted.
"Well—sure. That is—maybe. But it ain' t none of my business. I mind my own
yard. It ain't nothing to me." The words tumbled out now. "I don't stick my nose in

nobody's business." And suddenly he was silent and waiting. And his hands were still
white on the wheel. A grasshopper flipped th rough the window and lighted on top of
the instrument panel, where it sat and began to scrape its wings with its angled jumping
legs. Joad reached forward and crushed its hard skull-like head with his fingers, and he
let it into the