The Grapes of Wrath | Page 7

wind stream out the window. Jo ad chuckled again while he brushed the
bits of broken insect from his fingertips. "Y ou got me wrong, mister," he said. "I ain't
keepin' quiet about it. Sure I been in McAlester. Been there four years. Sure t\
hese is
the clothes they give me when I come out . I don't give a damn who knows it. An' I'm
goin' to my old man's place so I don't have to lie to get a job."
The driver said, "Well—that ain't none of my business. I ain't a nosy guy."
"The hell you ain't," said Joad. "That big old nose of yours been stickin' out eight
miles ahead of your face. You had that big nose goin' over me like a sheep in a
vegetable patch."
The driver's face tightened. "You got me all wrong—" he began weakly.
Joad laughed at him. "You been a good guy. You give me a lift. Well, hell! I done
time. So what! You want to know what I done time for, don't you?"
"That ain't none of my affair."
"Nothin' ain't none of your affair except ski nnin' this here bull-bitch along, an' that's
the least thing you work at. Now look. See that road up ahead?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I get off there. Sure, I know you're wettin' your pants to know what I done. I
ain't a guy to let you down." The high hum of the motor dulled and the song of the tires
dropped in pitch. Joad got out his pint and took another short drink. The truck drifted
to a stop where a dirt road opened at right angles to the highway. Joad \
got out and
stood beside the cab window. The vertical ex haust pipe puttered up its barely visible
blue smoke. Joad leaned toward the driver. "Homicide," he said quickly. "That's a big
word—means I killed a guy. Seven years. I' m sprung in four for keepin' my nose
clean."
The driver's eyes slipped over Joad's face to memorize it. "I never asked you nothin'
about it," he said. "I mind my own yard."
"You can tell about it in every joint from here to Texola." He smiled. "So long,
fella. You been a good guy. But look, when you been in stir a little while, you can
smell a question comin' from hell to break fast. You telegraphed yours the first time
you opened your trap." He spatted the metal door with the palm of his hand. "Thanks
for the lift," he said. "So l ong." He turned away and walked into the dirt road.
For a moment the driver stared after him, and then he called, "Luck!" Joad waved
his hand without looking around. Then the motor roared up and the gears clicked and
the great red truck rolled heavily away.
3
THE CONCRETE HIGHWAY was edged with a mat of tangled, broken, dry grass,
and the grass heads were heavy with oat bear ds to catch on a dog's coat, and foxtails to
tangle in a horse's fetlocks, and clover burrs to fasten in sheep's wool; sleeping life
waiting to be spread and dispersed, every seed armed with an appliance of dispersal,

twisting darts and parachutes for the wind, little spears and balls of tiny thorns, and all
waiting for animals and for the wind, for a ma n's trouser cuff or the hem of a woman's
skirt, all passive but armed with appliances of activity, still, but each possessed of the
anlage of movement.
The sun lay on the grass and warmed it, and in the shade under the grass the insects
moved, ants and ant lions to set traps for them, grasshoppers to jump into the air and
flick their yellow wings for a second, so w bugs like little armadillos, plodding
restlessly on many tender feet. And over the grass at the roadside a land turtle crawled,
turning aside for nothing, dragging his high-do med shell over the grass: His hard legs
and yellow-nailed feet threshed slowly th rough the grass, not really walking, but
boosting and dragging his shell along. The barley beards slid off his shell, and the
clover burrs fell on him and rolled to the ground. His horny beak was partly open, and
his fierce, humorous eyes, under brows like fing ernails, stared straight ahead. He came
over the grass leaving a beaten trail behind him, and the hill, which was the highway
embankment, reared up ahead of him. For a moment he stopped, his head held high.
He blinked and looked up and dow n. At last he started to climb the embankment. Front
clawed feet reached forward but did not t