The Grapes of Wrath Page #13
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1940
- 129 min
- 656 Views
MA:
Your pa tol' me you didn't ought to
cross it if you're paroled. Says
they'll send you up again.
TOM:
Forget it, Ma. I got her figgered
out. Long as I keep outa trouble,
ain't nobody gonna say a thing. All
I gotta do is keep my nose clean.
MA:
(worriedly)
Maybe they got crimes in California
we don't know about. Crimes we don't
even know *is* crimes.
TOM:
(laughing)
Forget it, Ma. Jus' think about the
nice things out there. Think about
them grapes and oranges--an' ever'body
got work--
GRANMA:
(waking suddenly)
I gotta git out!
TOM:
First gas station, Granma--
GRANMA:
I gotta git *out*, I tell ya! I gotta
git *out*!
TOM:
(foot on brakes)
Awright! Awright!
As the truck slows to a stop a motorcycle cop approaches
after them. Looking back, Tom sees him bearing toward them.
He looks grimly at Ma.
TOM:
They shore don't waste no time!
(As Granma whines)
Take her out.
COP:
(astraddle his
motorcycle)
Save your strength, lady.
(to Tom)
Get goin', buddy. No campin' here.
TOM:
(relieved)
We ain't campin'. We jus' stoppin' a
minute--
COP:
Lissen, I heard that before--
GRANMA:
I tell ya I gotta git out!
The cop looks startled, puzzled, but Tom shrugs a disclaimer
for responsibility in that quarter.
TOM:
(mildly)
She's kinda ol'--
GRANMA:
(whimpering)
I tell ya--
COP:
Okay, okay!
GRANMA:
(triumphantly)
Puh-raise the Lawd for vittory!
As Ma helps Granma out the other side, Tom and the cop
exchange a glance and snother shrug at the foibles of women
and then look studiedly into space.
The scene dissolves to a MONTAGE: superimposed on the marker
of U.S. Highway 66 an assortment of roadside signs flashes
by:
Bar-B-Q, Joe's Eats, Dr. Pepper, Gas, Coca Cola, ThisHighway is Patrolled, End of 25 Mile Zone, Lucky Strikes,
Used Cars, Nutburger, Motel, Drive-Inn, Free Water, We Fix
Flats, etc.
A HAND-PAINTED SIGN reads: "CAMP 50¢." It is night. We hear
the sound of guitar music. In the CAMP GROUND a small wooden
house dominates the scene. There are no facilities; the
migrants simply pitch makeshift tents and park their jalopies
wherever there is a space. It is after supper and a dozen or
more men sit on the steps of the house listening to Connie
play a road song on a borrowed guitar. The music softens the
tired, drawn faces of the men and drives away some of their
shyness. In the dark, outside the circle of light from the
gasoline lantern on the porch, some of the women and children
sit and enjoy the luxury of this relative gaiety. The
proprietor sits tipped back in a straight chair on the porch.
We see the JOAD TENT. Behind their truck, a tarpaulin is
stretched over a rope from tree to tree. Granma lies asleep
on a quilt, stirring fitfully. Ma sits on the ground at her
head, fanning her with a piece of cardboard. Rosasharn lies
flat on her back, hands clasped under her head, looking up
at the stars. The music comes to them pleasantly.
ROSASHARN:
Ma... all this, will it hurt the
baby?
MA:
Now don't you go gettin' nimsy-mimsy.
ROSASHARN:
Sometimes I'm all jumpy inside.
MA:
Well, can't nobody get through nine
*months* without sorrow.
ROSASHARN:
But will it--hurt the baby?
MA:
They use' to be a sayin': A chile
born outa sorrow'll be a happy chile.
An' another:
Born outa too much joy'llbe a doleful boy. That's the way I
always heard it.
ROSASHARN:
You don't ever get scairt, do you,
Ma?
MA:
(thoughtfully)
Sometimes. A little. Only it ain't
scairt so much. It's just waitin'
an' wonderin'. But when sump'n happens
that I got to do sump'n--
(simply)
--I'll do it.
ROSASHARN:
Don't it ever scare you it won't be
nice in California like we think?
MA:
(quickly)
No. No, it don't. I can't do that. I
can't let m'self. All I can do is
see how soon they gonna wanta eat
again. They'd all get upset if I
done anymore 'n that. They all depen'
on me jus' thinkin' about that.
(After a pause)
That's my part--that an' keepin' the
fambly together.
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"The Grapes of Wrath" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_grapes_of_wrath_39>.
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