The Grapes of Wrath Page #47

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GRANMA:

(in a feeble bleat)

Puh-raise the Lawd for vittory!

GRAMPA:

(expanding)

Maybe I get me a whole *washtub*

fulla them grapes and jest sit in

'em and scrooge around till they was

gone!

(Sighing)

I shore would like to do that!

RUTHIE AND WINFIELD are snickering. Ruthie has smeared her

face with mush. She pulls Winfield around to see.

RUTHIE:

(whispering)

Look. I'm Grampa!

She begins to slobber in mimicry. Winfield snickers. At that

instant Ma enters, unobserved, and without a word give Ruthie

a fine wallop. Nobody else pays any attention to the slap as

Ma, a bucket in her hand, moves on toward the door. We see

her now in the BACKYARD, first at the door, then moving toward

the well. She stops dead still, her eyes gazing outward.

TOM is looking at the household goods piled around the yard,

to be taken to California. Casy is in the background. Then

Tom looks up and see Ma (out of the scene). His face softens.

He moves toward her.

MA:

(softly--her eyes

closed)

Thank God. Oh thank God.

(In sudden terror as

he approaches)

Tommy, you didn't *bust* out, didya?

You ain't got to hide, have you?

TOM:

No, Ma. I'm paroled. I got my papers.

With a sigh and a smile, and her eyes full of wonder, she

feels his arm. Her fingers touch his cheek, as if she were

blind. Swelling with emotion, Tom bites his lip to control

himself.

MA:

I was so scared we was goin' away

without you--and we'd never see each

other again.

TOM:

I'd a found you, Ma.

CASY, with great politeness, turns his back to the scene and

keeps well away from it.

TOM now looks around at the dusty furniture piled around the

yard.

TOM:

Muley tol' me what happened, Ma. Are

we goin' to California true?

MA:

We *got* to, Tommy. But that's gonna

be awright. I seen the han'bills,

about how much work they is, an'

high wages, too. But I gotta fin'

out somepin' else first, Tommy.

(Breathlessly)

Did they hurt you, son? Did they

hurt you an' make you mean-mad?

TOM:

(puzzled)

Mad, Ma?

MA:

Sometimes they do.

TOM:

(gently)

No, Ma I was at first--but not no

more.

MA:

(not yet quite

convinced)

Sometimes they do somethin' to you,

Tommy. They hurt you--and you get

mad--and then you get mean--and they

hurt you again--and you get meaner,

and meaner--till you ain't no boy or

no man any more, but just a walkin'

chunk a mean-mad. Did they hurt you

like that, Tommy?

TOM:

(grinning)

No, Ma. You don't have to worry about

that.

MA:

Thank God. I--I don't want no mean

son

(She loves him with

her eyes)

At the DOOR, Pa is staring toward them, his mouth open.

PA:

(almost to himself)

It's Tommy!

(Then shouting inside)

It's Tommy back!

(Heading for Tom)

What'd you do, son--bust out?

INSIDE UNCLE JOHN'S CABIN, all but Granma are staring toward

the door. Then all but Granma scramble to their feet, headed

for the door.

WINFIELD AND RUTHIE

(in an excited chant)

Tom's outa ja-ul! Tom's outa ja-ul!

GRAMPA:

I knowed it! Couldn't keep him in!

Can't keep a Joad in! I knowed it

from the fust!

The children and Grampa scramble out first, followed hurriedly

but less rowdily by Uncle John and Noah. Granma, aware only

that there is some excitement, looks interestedly after them

but decides against any activity.

GRANMA:

(vaguely)

Puh-raise the Lawd for vittory!

(she resumes eating)

In the BACKYARD, the prodigal son, mother and father proudly

beside him, is having his hand wrung by Grampa, who vainly

tries to button various buttons of his shirt, as always. The

two children jump up and down excitedly but are too shy to

force themselves into the reception.

GRAMPA:

(to Pa)

You know what I al'ays said: "Tom'll

come bustin' outa that jail like a

bull through a corral fence." Can't

keep no Joad in jail!

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