The Grapes of Wrath Page #37
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1940
- 129 min
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AL:
(shaking his head)
Not like me!
A fat woman thrusts her head out of the tent.
WOMAN:
You git right along! This here girl's
spoke for. She's gonna be married,
an' her man's a-comin' for her.
Shrugging, Al winks at the girl and moves on, stepping and
moving his shoulders and snapping his fingers in time to the
music, a very gay fellow indeed. The blonde girl's eyes follow
him. Then she turns and glances cautiously toward the tent.
ON THE DANCE FLOOR, we see Ma and Rosasharn as Tom enters
and stands between them. This is during a pause between dances
and only a few couples stand on the floor waiting for the
music to begin again. We also see the three men very casually
looking around--but no more casual looking than Wilkie,
standing just behind them, idly whistling.
TOM:
(grinning)
She's gettin' prettier, Ma.
MA:
(as Rosasharn hides
her face)
Girl with a baby *always* gets
prettier.
The music starts again, once more the dancers move onto the
dance floor. The three men exchange a glance and step casually
to the edge of the dancing space, one in the lead. They survey
the scene, but for the moment make no further move. The
atmosphere is tense.
TOM:
(softly)
Excuse me, Ma.
(He moves quietly out
of the scene, toward
the three men)
AL, taking the blonde girl's hand, steps onto the dance floor.
Encircling her waist, they begin to dance. They are a smooth,
rhythmic couple who move as one being.
AL:
Well, you said anybody can waltz...
How'm *I* doin'?
BLONDE GIRL:
Don't hold me so tight.
AL:
(tongue-in-cheek)
Why, I ain't hardly touchin' you!
BLONDE GIRL:
(squirming)
You're *ticklin' me!*
AL:
(grabbing her still
closer)
That comes from not holdin' you tight
*enough.*
BLONDE GIRL:
(complaining but loving
it)
Now I can't breathe.
At this moment the leader of the three men (the other two
directly behind him) enters the scene.
LEADER:
I'll dance with this girl.
AL:
(angrily)
You an' who else?
Behind the three men a solid wall of migrants are closing in
quietly, Tom and Wilkie in the middle.
LEADER:
Don't gimme no argament--
(A shrill whistle
sounds in the distance)
--you little--
His fist goes back, his left hand reaches for Al's collar.
At the same instant Tom grabs him, Wilkie claps his hand
over the leader's mouth, at least fifteen other men have
similarly collard the other two invaders, and they are all
lifted bodily. There is not a sound as the three men, held
in iron grips, are whisked from the dance floor and into the
crowd.
Two touring cars have stopped in front of the closed GATE
and the deputies have drawn guns.
DRIVER:
Open up! We hear you got a riot.
CARETAKER:
Riot? I don't see no riot. Who're
you?
DRIVER:
Deputy sheriffs.
CARETAKER:
Got a warrant?
DRIVER:
We don't need a warrant if it's a
riot.
CARETAKER:
Well, I don't know what you gonna do
about it, because I don't hear no
riot an' I don't see no riot, an'
what's more I don't believe they
*is* no riot.
(Waving toward the
dance floor)
Look for yourself.
As the deputies, puzzled and uncertain, look toward the DANCE
FLOOR, we see the music, the dancing, the gaiety continuing
as if nothing had happened.
WITHIN THE JOAD TENT at night, several hours later: the tent
is black, Tom strikes a match. From a piece of wood on the
ground or floor he selects one from several cigarette butts
and lights it. While he is doing so, he lifts his head
suddenly, and listens.
In the CAMP STREET we catch sight of legs walking, the ground
lighted from a flashlight. Two pairs of the legs wear state
policemen's leather leggings. The third pair are the
caretaker's. They stop behind a car. The flashlight plays on
the license plate. One of the state cops leans down to copy
the license number in a booklet. Then they move on.
TOM has lifted the edge of the tent a trifle, enough to see
out by flattening his head on the floor. The LEGS are now
seen at the Joad jalopy. The light is on the license plate.
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"The Grapes of Wrath" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_grapes_of_wrath_39>.
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