Гроздья гнева
Chapter 4
An’Igotthinkin’aboutmybunk,an’Iwonderwhatthestir-bugIgotforacellmateisdoin’.Mean’someguyshadastrangbandgoin’.Goodone.Guysaidweoughttogoontheradio.An’thismornin’Ididn’tknowwhattimetogetup.Jus’laidtherewaitin’forthebelltogooff."
Casychuckled."Fellacangetsohemissesthenoiseofasawmill."
Theyellowing,dusty,afternoonlightputagoldencolorontheland.Thecornstalkslookedgolden.Aflightofswallowsswoopedoverheadtowardsomewaterhole.TheturtleinJoad’scoatbegananewcampaignofescape.Joadcreasedthevisorofhiscap.Itwasgettingthelongprotrudingcurveofacrow’sbeaknow."GuessI’llmoseyalong,"hesaid."Ihatetohitthesun,butitain’tsobadnow."
Casypulledhimselftogether."Iain’tseenol’Tominabug’sage,"hesaid."Iwasgonnalookinonhimanyways.IbrangJesustoyourfolksforalongtime,an’Inevertookupacollectionnornothin’butabitetoeat."
"Comealong,"saidJoad."Pa’llbegladtoseeyou.Healwayssaidyougottoolongapeckerforapreacher."Hepickeduphiscoatrollandtighteneditsnuglyabouthisshoesandturtle.
Casygatheredinhiscanvassneakersandshovedhisbarefeetintothem."Iain’tgotyourconfidence,"hesaid."I’malwaysscaredthere’swireorglassunderthedust.Idon’tknownothin’Ihatesomuchasacuttoe."
