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Chapter 2
Herubbedthebutttoapulpandputitoutthewindow,lettingthebreezesuckitfromhisfingers.Thebigtiressangahighnoteonthepavement.Joad’sdarkquieteyesbecameamusedashestaredalongtheroad.Thedriverwaitedandglanceduneasilyover.AtlastJoad’slongupperlipgrinnedupfromhisteethandhechuckledsilently,hischestjerkedwiththechuckles.«Yousuretookahellofalongtimetogettoit,buddy.»
Thedriverdidnotlookover.«Gettowhat?Howdoyoumean?»Joad’slipsstretchedtightoverhislongteethforamoment,andhelickedhislipslikeadog,twolicks,oneineachdirectionfromthemiddle.Hisvoicebecameharsh.«YouknowwhatImean.Yougivemeagoin’-overwhenIfirstgotin.Iseenyou.»Thedriverlookedstraightahead,grippedthewheelsotightlythatthepadsofhispalmsbulged,andthebacksofhishandspaled.Joadcontinued,«YouknowwhereIcomefrom.»Thedriverwassilent.«Don’tyou?»Joadinsisted.
«Well—sure.Thatis—maybe.Butitain’tnoneofmybusiness.Imindmyownyard.Itain’tnothingtome.»Thewordstumbledoutnow.«Idon’tstickmynoseinnobody’sbusiness.»Andsuddenlyhewassilentandwaiting.Andhishandswerestillwhiteonthewheel.Agrasshopperflippedthroughthewindowandlightedontopoftheinstrumentpanel,whereitsatandbegantoscrapeitswingswithitsangledjumpinglegs.Joadreachedforwardandcrusheditshardskull-likeheadwithhisfingers,andheletitintothewindstreamoutthewindow.Joadchuckledagainwhilehebrushedthebitsofbrokeninsectfromhisfingertips.«Yougotmewrong,mister,"hesaid.«Iain’tkeepin’quietaboutit.SureIbeeninMcAlester.Beentherefouryears.SuretheseistheclothestheygivemewhenIcomeout.Idon’tgiveadamnwhoknowsit.An’I’mgoin’tomyoldman’splacesoIdon’thavetolietogetajob.»
