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Chapter 20
Youdon’wantmetocrawllikeabeatbitch,withmybellyonthegroun’,doyou?»
«I’ma-prayin’.Yougottokeepclear,Tom.Thefambly’sbreakin’up.Yougottokeepclear.»
«I’lltry,Ma.Butwhenoneathemfatassesgetstoworkin’meover,Igotabigjobtryin’.Ifitwasthelaw,it’dbedifferent.Butburnin’thecampain’tthelaw.»
Thecarjoltedalong.Ahead,alittlerowofredlanternsstretchedacrossthehighway.
«Detour,Iguess,"Tomsaid.Heslowedthecarandstoppedit,andimmediatelyacrowdofmenswarmedaboutthetruck.Theywerearmedwithpickhandlesandshotguns.TheyworetrenchhelmetsandsomeAmericanLegioncaps.Onemanleanedinthewindow,andthewarmsmellofwhiskyprecededhim.
«Whereyouthinkyou’regoin’?»HethrustaredfaceneartoTom’sface.
Tomstiffened.Hishandcreptdowntothefloorandfeltforthejackhandle.Macaughthisarmandhelditpowerfully.Tomsaid,«Well—"andthenhisvoicetookonaservilewhine.«We’restrangershere,"hesaid.«Weheardaboutthey’sworkinaplacecalledTulare.»
«Well,goddamnit,you’regoin’thewrongway.Weain’tgonnahavenogoddamnOkiesinthistown.»
Tom’sshouldersandarmswererigid,andashiverwentthroughhim.Maclungtohisarm.Thefrontofthetruckwassurroundedbythearmedmen.Someofthem,tomakeamilitaryappearance,woretunicsandSamBrownebelts.
Tomwhined,«Whichwayisitat,mister?»
«Youturnrightaroundan’headnorth.An’don’tcomebacktillthecotton’sready.»
