Гроздья гнева

           Thebackseatwaspilednearlytotheceilingwithsacks,withpotsandpans,andontheverytop,rightupagainsttheceiling,twoboysrode.Onthetopofthecar,amattressandafoldedtent;tentpolestiedalongtherunningboard.Thecarpulleduptothegaspumps.Adark-haired,hatchet-facedmangotslowlyout.Andthetwoboyssliddownfromtheloadandhittheground.

           Maewalkedaroundthecounterandstoodinthedoor.Themanwasdressedingraywooltrousersandablueshirt,darkbluewithsweatonthebackandunderthearms.Theboysinoverallsandnothingelse,raggedpatchedoveralls.Theirhairwaslight,anditstoodupevenlyallovertheirheads,forithadbeenroached.Theirfaceswerestreakedwithdust.Theywentdirectlytothemudpuddleunderthehoseanddugtheirtoesintothemud.

           Themanasked,"Canwegitsomewater,ma’am?"

           AlookofannoyancecrossedMae’sface."Sure,goahead."Shesaidsoftlyoverhershoulder,"I’llkeepmyeyeonthehose."Shewatchedwhilethemanslowlyunscrewedtheradiatorcapandranthehosein.

           Awomaninthecar,aflaxen-hairedwoman,said,"Seeifyoucan’tgitithere."

           Themanturnedoffthehoseandscrewedonthecapagain.Thelittleboystookthehosefromhimandtheyupendeditanddrankthirstily.Themantookoffhisdark,stainedhatandstoodwithacurioushumilityinfrontofthescreen."Couldyouseeyourwaytosellusaloafofbread,ma’am?"

           Maesaid,"Thisain’tagrocerystore.Wegotbreadtomakesan’widges."

           "Iknow,ma’am."