Ma filled the coffee pot from the bucket and set it on the stove, and she put on the frying pan, deep with fat, to get hot for the pones.
“What’s over you?” she said softly.
“I’m a-goin’ out,” Rose of Sharon said.
“Out where?”
“Goin’ out to pick cotton.”
“You can’t,” Ma said. “You’re too far along.”
“No, I ain’t.
An’ I’m a-goin’.”
Ma measured coffee into the water.
“Rosasharn, you wasn’t to the pancakes las’ night.”
The girl didn’t answer.
“What you wanta pick cotton for?” Still no answer. “Is it ’cause of Al an’ Aggie?” This time Ma looked closely at her daughter.
“Oh. Well, you don’ need to pick.”
“I’m goin’.”
“Awright, but don’ you strain yourself.”
“Git up, Pa!
Wake up, git up!”
Pa blinked and yawned.
“Ain’t slep’ out,” he moaned. “Musta been on to eleven o’clock when we went down.”
“Come on, git up, all a you, an’ wash.”
The inhabitants of the car came slowly to life, squirmed up out of the blankets, writhed into their clothes.
Ma sliced salt pork into her second frying pan.
“Git out an’ wash,” she commanded.
A light sprang up in the other end of the car. And there came the sound of the breaking of twigs from the Wainwright end.
“Mis’ Joad,” came the call. “We’re gettin’ ready.
We’ll be ready.”
Al grumbled,
“What we got to be up so early for?”
“It’s on’y twenty acres,” Ma said. “Got to get there.
Ain’t much cotton lef ’.
Got to be there ’fore she’s picked.” Ma rushed them dressed, rushed the breakfast into them. “Come on, drink your coffee,” she said. “Got to start.”
“We can’t pick no cotton in the dark, Ma.”
“We can be there when it gets light.”
“Maybe it’s wet.”
“Didn’ rain enough.
Come on now, drink your coffee.
Al, soon’s you’re through, better get the engine runnin’.”
She called,
“You near ready, Mis’ Wainwright?”
“Jus’ eatin’.
Be ready in a minute.”
Outside, the camp had come to life.
Fires burned in front of the tents.
The stovepipes from the boxcars spurted smoke.
Al tipped up his coffee and got a mouthful of grounds.
He went down the cat-walk spitting them out.
“We’re awready, Mis’ Wainwright,” Ma called.
She turned to Rose of Sharon.
She said, “You got to stay.”
The girl set her jaw.