Гроздья гнева

           "Well,look,Tom.Igotsixdollars.Youan’mecouldgetacouplepintsan’godowntheline.Nobodydon’tknowIgotthatsixbucks.Christ,wecouldhaveahellofatimeforourselves."

           "Keepyajack,"Tomsaid."Whenwegetouttothecoastyouan’me’lltakeheran’we’llraisehell.Maybewhenwe’reworkin’—"Heturnedintheseat."Ididn’thinkyouwasafellatogodowntheline.Ifiggeredyouwastalkin’’emoutofit."

           "Well,hell,Idon’tknownobodyhere.IfI’mgonnaridearoun’much,I’mgonnagetmarried.I’mgonnahavemeahellofatimewhenwegettoCalifornia."

           "Hopeso,"saidTom.

           "Youain’tsureanothin’nomore."

           "No,Iain’tsureanothin’."

           "Whenyakilledthatfella—did—didyaeverdreamaboutitoranything?Diditworryya?"

           "No."

           "Well,didn’yaneverthinkaboutit?"

           "Sure.Iwassorry’causehewasdead."

           "Yadidn’ttakenoblametoyourself?"

           "No.Idonemytime,an’Idonemyowntime."

           "Wasit—awfulbad—there?"

           Tomsaidnervously,"Look,Al.Idonemytime,an’nowit’sdone.

           Idon’wannadoitoveran’over.There’stheriverupahead,an’there’sthetown.Let’sjus’tryan’getacon-rodan’thehellwiththeres’ofit."

           "Ma’sawfulpartialtoyou,"saidAl."Shemournedwhenyouwasgone.Doneitalltoherself.Kindacryin’downinsideofherthroat.Wecouldtellwhatshewasthinkin’about,though."

           Tompulledhiscapdownlowoverhiseyes."Nowlookhere,Al."