John Steinbeck Fullscreen Grapes of Wrath (1939)

Pause

“Pa, if they go, I’m a-goin’ too.”

Pa looked startled.

“You can’t, Al.

The truck—We ain’t fit to drive that truck.”

“I don’ care.

Me an’ Aggie got to stick together.”

“Now you wait,” Pa said. “Come on over here.” Wainwright and Al got to their feet and approached the door. “See?”

Pa said, pointing. “Jus’ a bank from there an’ down to there.” He looked at his stick.

The water swirled about it now, and crept up the bank.

“Be a lot a work, an’ then she might come over anyways,” Wainwright protested.

“Well, we ain’t doin’ nothin’, might’s well be workin’.

We ain’t gonna find us no nice place to live like this.

Come on, now.

Le’s go talk to the other fellas.

We can do her if ever’body helps.”

Al said,

“If Aggie goes, I’m a-goin’ too.”

Pa said,

“Look, Al, if them fellas won’t dig, then we’ll all hafta go.

Come on, le’s go talk to ’em.”

They hunched their shoulders and ran down the cat-walk to the next car and up the walk into its open door.

Ma was at the stove, feeding a few sticks to the feeble flame.

Ruthie crowded close beside her.

“I’m hungry,” Ruthie whined.

“No, you ain’t,” Ma said. “You had good mush.”

“Wisht I had a box a Cracker Jack.

There ain’t nothin’ to do.

Ain’t no fun.”

“They’ll be fun,” Ma said. “You jus’ wait.

Be fun purty soon.

Git a house an’ a place, purty soon.”

“Wisht we had a dog,” Ruthie said.

“We’ll have a dog; have a cat, too.”

“Yella cat?”

“Don’t bother me,” Ma begged. “Don’t go plaguin’ me now, Ruthie.

Rosasharn’s sick.

Jus’ you be a good girl a little while.

They’ll be fun.”

Ruthie wandered, complaining, away.

From the mattress where Rose of Sharon lay covered up there came a quick sharp cry, cut off in the middle.

Ma whirled and went to her.

Rose of Sharon was holding her breath and her eyes were filled with terror.

“What is it?” Ma cried.

The girl expelled her breath and caught it again.

Suddenly Ma put her hand under the covers. Then she stood up. “Mis’ Wainwright,” she called. “Oh, Mis’ Wainwright!”

The fat little woman came down the car.

“Want me?”

“Look!” Ma pointed at Rose of Sharon’s face.

Her teeth were clamped on her lower lip and her forehead was wet with perspiration, and the shining terror was in her eyes.

“I think it’s come,” Ma said. “It’s early.”