Гроздья гнева
Chapter 15
GonnaleaveaquartereachforMae.Fifteencentsforpiean’coffeean’adimeforMae.An’theyain’ttryin’tomakeher,neither.
Sittingtogetheronthestools,spoonsstickingupoutofthecoffeemugs.Passingthetimeofday.AndAl,rubbingdownhisgriddle,listeningbutmakingnocomment.BingCrosby’svoicestops.Theturntabledropsdownandtherecordswingsintoitsplaceinthepile.Thepurplelightgoesoff.Thenickel,whichhascausedallthismechanismtowork,hascausedCrosbytosingandanorchestratoplaythisnickeldropsfrombetweenthecontactpointsintotheboxwheretheprofitsgo.Thenickel,unlikemostmoney,hasactuallydoneajobofwork,hasbeenphysicallyresponsibleforareaction.
Steamspurtsfromthevalveofthecoffeeurn.Thecompressoroftheicemachinechugssoftlyforatimeandthenstops.Theelectricfaninthecornerwavesitsheadslowlybackandforth,sweepingtheroomwithawarmbreeze.Onthehighway,on66,thecarswhizby.
"TheywasaMassachusettscarstoppedawhileago,"saidMae.
BigBillgraspedhiscuparoundthetopsothatthespoonstuckupbetweenhisfirstandsecondfingers.Hedrewinasnortofairwiththecoffee,tocoolit."Yououghttobeouton66.Carsfromalloverthecountry.Allheadin’west.Neverseensomanybefore.Suresomehoneysontheroad."
"Weseenawreckthismornin’,"hiscompanionsaid."Bigcar.BigCad’,aspecialjobandahoney,low,cream-color,specialjob.Hitatruck.Foldedtheradiatorrightbackintothedriver.
