Chapter 10

           Whenthetruckhadgone,loadedwithimplements,withheavytools,withbedsandsprings,witheverymovablethingthatmightbesold,Tomhungaroundtheplace.Hemoonedintothebarnshed,intotheemptystalls,andhewalkedintotheimplementleantoandkickedtherefusethatwasleft,turnedabrokenmowertoothwithhisfoot.Hevisitedplacesheremembered—theredbankwheretheswallowsnested,thewillowtreeoverthepigpen.Twoshoatsgruntedandsquirmedathimthroughthefence,blackpigs,sunningandcomfortable.Andthenhispilgrimagewasover,andhewenttositonthedoorstepwheretheshadewaslatelyfallen.BehindhimMamovedaboutinthekitchen,washingchildren’sclothesinabucket;andherstrongfreckledarmsdrippedsoapsudsfromtheelbows.Shestoppedherrubbingwhenhesatdown.Shelookedathimalongtime,andatthebackofhisheadwhenheturnedandstaredoutatthehotsunlight.Andthenshewentbacktoherrubbing.

           Shesaid,"Tom,IhopethingsisallrightinCalifornia."Heturnedandlookedather."Whatmakesyouthinktheyain’t?"heasked.

           "Well—nothing.Seemstoonice,kinda.Iseenthehan’billsfellaspassout,an’howmuchworktheyis,an’highwagesan’all;an’Iseeninthepaperhowtheywantfolkstocomean’pickgrapesan’orangesan’peaches.That’dbenicework,Tom,pickin’peaches.Eveniftheywouldn’tletyoueatnone,youcouldmaybesnitchalittlerattyonesometimes.An’it’dbeniceunderthetrees,workin’intheshade.I’mscaredofstuffsonice.