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- Джон Стейнбек
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- Гроздья гнева
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- Стр. 138/563
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The
great
car
squeals
and
pulls
to
a
stop
.
The
fat
worried
man
helps
his
wife
out
.
Mae
looks
at
and
past
them
as
they
enter
.
Al
looks
up
from
his
griddle
,
and
down
again
.
Mae
knows
.
They
’
ll
drink
a
five
-
cent
soda
and
crab
that
it
ain
’
t
cold
enough
.
The
woman
will
use
six
paper
napkins
and
drop
them
on
the
floor
.
The
man
will
choke
and
try
to
put
the
blame
on
Mae
.
The
woman
will
sniff
as
though
she
smelled
rotting
meat
and
they
will
go
out
again
and
tell
forever
afterward
that
the
people
in
the
West
are
sullen
.
And
Mae
,
when
she
is
alone
with
Al
,
has
a
name
for
them
.
She
calls
them
shitheels
.
Truck
drivers
.
That
’
s
the
stuff
.
Here
’
s
a
big
transport
comin
’
.
Hope
they
stop
;
take
away
the
taste
of
them
shitheels
.
When
I
worked
in
that
hotel
in
Albuquerque
,
Al
,
the
way
they
steal
—
ever
’
darn
thing
.
An
’
the
bigger
the
car
they
got
,
the
more
they
steal
—
towels
,
silver
,
soap
dishes
.
I
can
’
t
figger
it
.
And
Al
,
morosely
,
Where
ya
think
they
get
them
big
cars
and
stuff
?
Born
with
’
em
?
You
won
’
t
never
have
nothin
’
.
The
transport
truck
,
a
driver
and
relief
.
How
’
bout
stoppin
’
for
a
cup
a
Java
?
I
know
this
dump
.
How
’
s
the
schedule
?
Oh
,
we
’
re
ahead
.
Pull
up
,
then
.
They
’
s
a
ol
’
war
horse
in
here
that
’
s
a
kick
.
Good
Java
,
too
.
