Гроздья гнева

           IknowedIwouldn’livetotheotherside,buthe’dbeacrostanyways.Buthewon’tgo.Hedon’know.Hethinksit’sgonnabeallright.Hedon’know."

           "Hesayshewon’tgo."

           "Iknow,"shesaid,"An’he’sstubborn.Iastyoutocometosayaprayer."

           "Iain’tapreacher,"hesaidsoftly."Myprayersain’tnogood."

           Shemoistenedherlips."Iwastherewhentheol’mandied.Yousaidonethen."

           "Itwasn’tnoprayer."

           "Itwasaprayer,"shesaid.

           "Itwasn’tnopreacher’sprayer."

           "Itwasagoodprayer.Iwantyoushouldsayoneforme."

           "Idon’knowwhattosay."

           Sheclosedhereyesforaminuteandthenopenedthemagain."Thensayonetoyourself.Don’tusenowordstoit.That’dbeawright."

           "IgotnoGod,"hesaid.

           "YougotaGod.Don’tmakenodifferenceifyoudon’knowwhathelookslike."Thepreacherbowedhishead.Shewatchedhimapprehensively.Andwhenheraisedhisheadagainshelookedrelieved."That’sgood,"shesaid."That’swhatIneeded.Somebodycloseenoughtopray."

           Heshookhisheadasthoughtoawakenhimself."Idon’understan’thishere,"hesaid.

           Andshereplied,"Yes—youknow,don’tyou?"

           "Iknow,"hesaid,"Iknow,butIdon’tunderstan’.Maybeyou’llres’afewdaysan’thencomeon."

           Sheshookherheadslowlyfromsidetoside."I’mjus’paincoveredwithskin.Iknowwhatitis,butIwon’ttellhim.He’dbetoosad.Hewouldn’knowwhattodoanyways.