The Grapes of Wrath Page #42

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TOM:

(after a moment,

figuring there is no

percentage in

continuing this

philosophical

discussion, pulls

out a flask, which

he extends)

Have a little snort?

CASY:

(holding the flask)

Course I'll say grace if somebody

sets out the food--

(shaking his head)

--but my heart ain't in it.

(He takes a long pull)

Nice drinkin' liquor.

TOM:

Ought to be. That's fact'ry liquor.

Cost me a buck.

CASY:

(handing back the

flask)

Been out travelin' around?

TOM:

Didn't you hear? It was in the papers.

CASY:

No, I never. What?

TOM:

I been in the penitentiary for four

years.

(He drinks)

CASY:

Excuse me for asking.

TOM:

I don't mind any more. I'd do what I

done again. I killed a guy at a dance.

We was drunk. He got a knife in me

and I laid him out with a shovel.

Knocked his head plumb to squash.

CASY:

And you ain't ashamed?

TOM:

(shaking his head)

He had a knife in me. That's why

they only gave me seven years. Got

out in four--parole.

CASY:

Ain't you seen your folks since then?

TOM:

(putting on his coat)

No, but I aim to before sundown.

Gettin' kind of excited about it,

too. Which way you going?

CASY:

(putting on his sneaker)

It don't matter. Ever since I lost

the sperit it looks like I just as

soon go one way as the other.

(Rising)

I'll go your way.

They pause at the edge of the shade, squint up at the sky,

and then move off.

The scene dissolves to the SURFACE OF A DIRT ROAD by daylight.

Leaves are scuttling across it. The top soil begins to fly

up. It is not a hard wind as yet, but it is steady and

persistent. Tom's and Casy's feet walk into sight.

TOM:

Maybe Ma'll have pork for supper. I

ain't had pork but four times in

four years--every Christmas.

CASY:

I'll be glad to see you pa. Last

time I seen him was at a baptizin',

an' he had one a the bigges' doses

of the Holy Sperit I ever seen. He

go to jumpin' over bushes, howlin'

like a dog-wolf in moon-time. Fin'ly

he picks hisself out a bush big as a

piana an' he let out a squawk an'

took a run at that bush. Well, sir,

he cleared her but he bust his leg

snap in two. They was a travellin'

dentist there and he set her, an' I

give her a prayin' over, but they

wasn't no more Holy Sperit in your

pa after that.

TOM:

(worriedly)

Lissen. This wind's fixin't to *do*

somepin'!

CASY:

Shore it is. It always is, this time

a year.

Tom, holding his cap on his head with his hand, looks up...

The TOPS OF THE TREES are bending before the wind. TOM AND

CASY continue walking.

CASY:

Is it fur?

TOM:

(still looking back)

Just around that next bend.

TOM AND CASY are almost being blown along and dust is rising

from the road.

CASY:

(lifting his voice

above the wind)

Your granma was a great one, too.

The third time she got religion she

go it so powerful she knocked down a

full-growed deacon with her fist.

TOM:

(pointing ahead)

That's our place.

The JOAD CABIN is an ancient, bleak, sway-backed building.

There is neither sign of life or habitation about it.

CASY:

(looking back)

And it ain't any too close, either!

We better run!

A DUST STORM, like a black wall, rises into the sky, moving

forward. TOM AND CASY are running, but looking back over

their shoulders as the DUST STORM nears. Dust rises from the

ground to join and thicken the black wall.

TOM AND CASY are seen racing down the road to the cabin, the

wind whipping up the dust. The two men smack open the door

and slam it shut after them. The screen begins to grow dark

as the storm sweeps over the land. It becomes black.

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