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Chapter 22
Thesunshoveditsedgeoverthemountains.
Tomsaid,«Seemsfunny.I’veetyourfood,an’Iain’ttol’youmyname—noryouain’tmentionedyours.I’mTomJoad.»
Theoldermanlookedathim,andthenhesmiledalittle.«Youain’tbeenoutherelong?»
«Hell,no!Jus’acoupledays.»
«Iknowedit.Funny,yougitoutathehabitamentionin’yourname.They’ssogoddamnmany.Jistfellas.Well,sir—I’mTimothyWallace,an’thishere’smyboyWilkie.»
«Proudtoknowya,"Tomsaid.«Youbeenoutherelong?»
«Tenmonths,"Wilkiesaid.«Gothererightonthetailathefloodslas’year.Jesus!Wehadatime,atime!Goddamnnearstarve’todeath.»Theirfeetrattledontheoiledroad.Atruckloadofmenwentby,andeachmanwassunkintohimself.Eachmanbracedhimselfinthetruckbedandscowleddown.
«Goin’outfortheGasCompany,"Timothysaid.«Theygotanicejobofit.»
«Icouldoftookourtruck,"Tomsuggested.
«No.»Timothyleaneddownandpickedupagreenwalnut.Hetesteditwithhisthumbandthenshieditatablackbirdsittingonafencewire.Thebirdflewup,letthenutsailunderit,andthensettledbackonthewireandsmootheditsshiningblackfeatherswithitsbeak.
Tomasked,«Ain’tyougotnocar?»
BothWallacesweresilent,andTom,lookingattheirfaces,sawthattheywereashamed.
Wilkiesaid,«Placeweworkatison’yamileuptheroad.»
Timothysaidangrily,«No,weain’tgotnocar.Wesol’ourcar.Hadto.Runoutafood,runoutaever’thing.Couldn’gitnojob.
