Гроздья гнева
Chapter 23
I’mtryin’forabreak,an’he’dscowlmeantillIgether,an’thenhe’dsettlebackeasy,an’he’dnod.«Play,"he’dsay.«Playnice.»It’sagoodbox.Seehowtheheadiswore.They’smanyamillionsongsworedownthatwoodan’scoopedherout.Somedayshe’llcaveinlikeaegg.Butyoucan’tpatchhernorworryhernowayorshe’lllosetone.Playherintheevening,an’they’saharmonicaplayerinthenex’tent.Makesitprettynicetogether.
Thefiddleisrare,hardtolearn.Nofrets,noteacher.Jes’listentoaol’manan’trytopickitup.Won’ttellhowtodouble.Saysit’sasecret.ButIwatched.Here’showhedoneit.Shrillasawind,thefiddle,quickandnervousandshrill.Sheain’tmuchofafiddle.Givetwodollarsforher.Fellasaysthey’sfiddlesfourhundredyearsold,andtheygitmellowlikewhisky.Saysthey’llcostfifty-sixtythousan’dollars.Idon’tknow.Soun’slikealie.Harshol’bastard,ain’tshe?Wantadance?I’llrubupthebowwithplentyrosin.Man!Thenshe’llsquawk.Hearheramile.
Thesethreeintheevening,harmonicaandfiddleandguitar.Playingareelandtappingoutthetune,andthebigdeepstringsoftheguitarbeatinglikeaheart,andtheharmonica’ssharpchordsandtheskirlandsquealofthefiddle.Peoplehavetomoveclose.Theycan’thelpit.«ChickenReel»now,andthefeettapandayoungleanbucktakesthreequicksteps,andhisarmshanglimp.
