Гроздья гнева
Chapter 2
«No,"saidthewaitress,andshelovinglyfingeredthelumpunderherear.
Outside,theseatedmanstoodupandlookedoverthecowlofthetruckandwatchedtherestaurantforamoment.Thenhesettledbackontherunningboard,pulledasackoftobaccoandabookofpapersfromhissidepocket.Herolledhiscigaretteslowlyandperfectly,studiedit,smoothedit.Atlasthelighteditandpushedtheburningmatchintothedustathisfeet.Thesuncutintotheshadeofthetruckasnoonapproached.
Intherestaurantthetruckdriverpaidhisbillandputhistwonickels’changeinaslotmachine.Thewhirlingcylindersgavehimnoscore.«Theyfix’emsoyoucan’twinnothing,"hesaidtothewaitress.
Andshereplied,«Guytookthejackpotnottwohoursago.Three-eightyhegot.Howsoonyougonnabebackby?»Heheldthescreendooralittleopen.«Week-tendays,"hesaid.«GottomakearuntoTulsa,an’InevergetbacksoonasIthink.»Shesaidcrossly,«Don’tletthefliesin.Eithergooutorcomein.»
«Solong,"hesaid,andpushedhiswayout.Thescreendoorbangedbehindhim.Hestoodinthesun,peelingthewrapperfromapieceofgum.Hewasaheavyman,broadintheshoulders,thickinthestomach.Hisfacewasredandhisblueeyeslongandslittedfromhavingsquintedalwaysatsharplight.Heworearmytrousersandhighlacedboots.Holdingthestickofguminfrontofhislipshecalledthroughthescreen,«Well,don’tdonothingyoudon’twantmetohearabout.»Thewaitresswasturnedtowardamirroronthebackwall.Shegruntedareply.Thetruckdrivergnaweddownthestickofgumslowly,openinghisjawsandlipswidewitheachbite.Heshapedtheguminhismouth,rolleditunderhistonguewhilehewalkedtothebigredtruck.
