The Grapes of Wrath Page #73

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He stumbles after her.

THE EXTERIOR OF SANITARY UNIT NO. 4. Ruthie is putting on a

bold front as she leads Winfield into sight but she is still

alert for interference.

RUTHIE:

Come on. Ain't nobody gonna say

anything.

WINFIELD:

Won't they ketch us?

He follows her into the unit, big-eyed with excitement and

apprehension. There is a silence. Then:

RUTHIE'S VOICE

Them's where you wash your han's.

Another silence. Then:

WINFIELD'S VOICE

What's these?

RUTHIE'S VOICE

(uncertainly)

Well, I reckon you *stan'* in them

little rooms--an' water come down

outa that there little jigger up

there--take a bath!

Another silence. Then:

WINFIELD'S VOICE

(excitedly)

Jes' like in the catalogues, ain't

they!

RUTHIE'S VOICE

(proudly)

I seen 'em b'fore you did.

WINFIELD'S VOICE

What's this?

RUTHIE'S VOICE

(in alarm)

Now don't you go monk'ing--

There is the sound of a toilet flushing. It is a cheap toilet

and it is a loud flush which eventually ends in a long

refilling of the tank just as loudly. There is a paralyzed

silence. Then:

RUTHIE'S VOICE

Now you done it! You busted it!

WINFIELD'S VOICE

I never--

Terrified, Winfield comes dashing out of the unit but Ruthie

grabs him just outside the door. Beginning to cry, he

struggles to get away.

WINFIELD:

Lemme go! I didn't go to do it!

RUTHIE:

(fiercely)

Keep qui'te, will ya! Shet your mouth!

WINFIELD:

(weeping)

I never knowed it! All I done was

pull that string!

RUTHIE:

Lissen. You done busted it. You hear?

(They listen to the

refilling of the

tank)

But lissen here. I won't tell nobody,

y'understan'?

WINFIELD:

Please don't.

RUTHIE:

I won't--

(craftily)

--if you won't tell what *I* done!

He nods quickly. Then Ruthie begins to walk away with what

she fancies is an innocent, nonchalant stroll, yawning

casually. Sniffling a little, Winfield mimics her, a very

innocent walk and yawn indeed.

The scene dissolves to a DITCH. Alongside the ditch are some

lengths of concrete pipe. Tom and the two Wallaces are in

the ditch, Tom and Tim picking, Wilkie shoveling.

TOM:

(exulting)

If this don't feel good!

WILKIE:

(chuckling)

Wait'll about 'leven o'clock, see

how good she feels then!

TOM:

Seems like a nice frien'ly fella to

work for, too.

TIM:

Lotta these little farmers mighty

nice fellas. Trouble is they're

little, they ain't got much say-so.

TOM:

Shore looks like my lucky day, anyway.

Gettin' some work at las'.

Mr. Thomas, the farmer, a stock man wearing a paper sun

helmet, enters. His face is worried as he squats down beside

the ditch. What he has come to say has taken some effort and

he is still uncertain and annoyed. The men stop work.

THOMAS:

Lissen here. Maybe I'm talkin' myself

outa my farm, but I like you fellas,

so I'm gonna tell you. You live in

that gov'ment camp, don't you?

TOM:

(stiffening)

Yes, sir.

THOMAS:

And you have dances every Saturday

night?

WILKIE:

(smiling)

We sure do.

THOMAS:

Well, look out next Saturday night.

TIM:

(suddenly tense)

What you mean? I belong to the central

committee. I got to know.

THOMAS:

Don't you ever tell I told.

TIM:

What is it?

THOMAS:

(angrily)

Well, the association don't like the

government camps. Can't get a deputy

in there. Can't arrest a man without

a warrant. But if there was a big

fight, and maybe shooting--a bunch

of deputies could go in and clean

out the camp.

(Unfolding a newspaper)

Like last night. Lissen. "Citizens,

angered at red agitators, burn another

squatters' camp, warn agitators to

get out of the county."

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