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Chapter 20
An’somesaysifwesetinoneplacewe’dgetorganized.Idon’knowwhy.Ion’yknowwegetrodeallthetime.Youwait,you’llsee.»
«Weain’tnobums,"Tominsisted.«We’relookin’forwork.We’lltakeanykindawork.»
Theyoungmanpausedinfittingthebracetothevalveslot.HelookedinamazementatTom.«Lookin’forwork?»hesaid.«Soyou’relookin’forwork.Whatyathinkever’bodyelseislookin’for?Di’monds?WhatyouthinkIworemyassdowntoanublookin’for?»Hetwistedthebracebackandforth.
Tomlookedaboutatthegrimytents,thejunkequipment,attheoldcars,thelumpymattressesoutinthesun,attheblackenedcansonfire-blackenedholeswherethepeoplecooked.Heaskedquietly,«Ain’ttheynowork?»
«Idon’know.Mus’be.Ain’tnocroprightherenow.Grapestopicklater,an’cottontopicklater.We’rea-movin’on,soon’sIgettheseherevalvesgroun’.Mean’mywifean’mykids.Weheardtheywasworkupnorth.We’reshovin’north,uparoun’Salinas.»
TomsawUncleJohnandPaandthepreacherhoistingthetarpaulinonthetentpolesandMaonherkneesinside,brushingoffthemattressesontheground.Acircleofquietchildrenstoodtowatchthenewfamilygetsettled,quietchildrenwithbarefeetanddirtyfaces.Tomsaid,«Backhomesomefellascomethroughwithhan’bills—orangeones.Saystheyneedlotsapeopleoutheretoworkthecrops.»
Theyoungmanlaughed.
