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- Джон Стейнбек
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Ma
said
,
«
Come
on
,
roll
out
.
We
got
to
be
on
our
way
.
Day
’
s
not
far
off
.
»
She
raised
the
screechy
shade
of
the
lantern
and
lighted
the
wick
.
«
Come
on
,
all
of
you
.
»
The
floor
of
the
tent
squirmed
into
slow
action
.
Blankets
and
comforts
were
thrown
back
and
sleepy
eyes
squinted
blindly
at
the
light
.
Ma
slipped
on
her
dress
over
the
underclothes
she
wore
to
bed
.
«
We
got
no
coffee
,
"
she
said
.
«
I
got
a
few
biscuits
.
We
can
eat
’
em
on
the
road
.
Jus
’
get
up
now
,
an
’
we
’
ll
load
the
truck
.
Come
on
now
.
Don
’
t
make
no
noise
.
Don
’
wanta
wake
the
neighbors
.
»
It
was
a
few
moments
before
they
were
fully
aroused
.
«
Now
don
’
you
get
away
,
"
Ma
warned
the
children
.
The
family
dressed
.
The
men
pulled
down
the
tarpaulin
and
loaded
up
the
truck
.
«
Make
it
nice
an
’
flat
,
"
Ma
warned
them
.
They
piled
the
mattress
on
top
of
the
load
and
bound
the
tarpaulin
in
place
over
its
ridge
pole
.
«
Awright
,
Ma
,
"
said
Tom
.
«
She
’
s
ready
.
»
Ma
held
a
plate
of
cold
biscuits
in
her
hand
.
«
Awright
.
Here
.
Each
take
one
.
It
’
s
all
we
got
.
»
Ruthie
and
Winfield
grabbed
their
biscuits
and
climbed
up
on
the
load
.
They
coveted
themselves
with
a
blanket
and
went
back
to
sleep
,
still
holding
the
cold
hard
biscuits
in
their
hands
.
Tom
got
into
the
driver
’
s
seat
and
stepped
on
the
starter
.
It
buzzed
a
little
,
and
then
stopped
.
«
Goddamn
you
,
Al
!
»
Tom
cried
.
«
You
let
the
battery
run
down
.
»
Al
blustered
,
«
How
the
hell
was
I
gonna
keep
her
up
if
I
ain
’
t
got
gas
to
run
her
?
»
Tom
chuckled
suddenly
.
«
Well
,
I
don
’
know
how
,
but
it
’
s
your
fault
.
You
got
to
crank
her
.
»
«
I
tell
you
it
ain
’
t
my
fault
.
»
Tom
got
out
and
found
the
crank
under
the
seat
.
«
It
’
s
my
fault
,
"
he
said
.
