Гроздья гнева
Chapter 30
Onslightlyhighergroundtwocarswerestartedandtheirlightson.Theyflounderedinthemudanddugtheirwheelsdownuntilfinallythedriverscutoffthemotorsandsatstill,lookingintotheheadlightbeams.Andtherainwhippedwhitestreaksthroughthelights.Alwentslowlyaroundthetruck,reachedin,andturnedofftheignition.
WhenPareachedthecat-walk,hefoundthelowerendfloating.Hesteppeditdownintothemud,underwater.«Thinkyacanmakeitawright,John?»heasked.
«I’llbeawright.Jus’goon.»
Pacautiouslyclimbedthecat-walkandsqueezedhimselfinthenarrowopening.Thetwolampswereturnedlow.MasatonthemattressbesideRoseofSharon,andMafannedherstillfacewithapieceofcardboard.Mrs.Wainwrightpokeddrybrushintothestove,andadanksmokeedgedoutaroundthelidsandfilledthecarwithasmellofburningtissue.MalookedupatPawhenheentered,andthenquicklydown.
«How—isshe?»Paasked.
Madidnotlookupathimagain.«Awright,Ithink.Sleepin’.»
Theairwasfetidandclosewiththesmellofthebirth.UncleJohnclamberedinandheldhimselfuprightagainstthesideofthecar.Mrs.WainwrightleftherworkandcametoPa.Shepulledhimbytheelbowtowardthecornerofthecar.Shepickedupalanternandhelditoveranappleboxinthecorner.Onanewspaperlayablueshriveledlittlemummy.
«Neverbreathed,"saidMrs.Wainwrightsoftly.«Neverwasalive.»
UncleJohnturnedandshuffledtiredlydownthecartothedarkend.
