John Steinbeck's "Grapes of Wrath" Chapters 1-9 105 words

Joad could see it ahead of him, its poor branches curving over the way, its load of leaves tattered and scraggly as a molting chicken.

"By God!" Now all dogs met and hackles rose, and they all growled and stood stiffly, each waiting for the others to start a fight.

He chewed, and his muscled throat convulsed in swallowing.

He dragged the last smoke from his raveling cigarette and then, with callused thumb and forefinger, crushed out the glowing end.

Her thin, steelgray hair was gathered in a sparse wispy knot at the back of her head.

And distance, toward the horizon, was tan to invisibility.

His upper lip was long, and since his teeth protruded, the lips stretched to cover them, for this man kept his lips closed.

The driver's eyes slipped over Joad's face to memorize it.

After a while the faces of the watching men lost their bemused perplexity and became hard and angry and resistant.

A cantankerous, complaining, mischievous, laughing face.

If a seed dropped did not germinate, it was nothing.

His stiff jeans, with the bottoms turned up eight inches to show his heeled boots, his three-inch belt with copper figures on it, even the red arm bands on his blue shirt and the rakish angle of his Stetson hat could not build him up to his brother

He got it all roiled up, too.

A flock of pigeons started from the deck of the tank house and flew around and settled again and strutted to the edge to look over; white pigeons and blue pigeons and grays, with iridescent wings.

Le's get at these here miserable rodents.

If they could only rotate the crops they might pump blood back into the land.

He gave up the fly and left it open and fumbled with the underwear buttons, then gave the whole thing up and hitched his brown suspenders.

Your grampa stood out here with a rifle, an' he blowed the headlights off the cat', but she come on just the same.

The hundred muscles of his neck stood out in high relief, and the firelight went deep into his eyes and ignited red embers.

He looked about for something that could honorably divert his attention, saw a red chicken go mincing by, and ran at it.

Her eyes opened wide, and the pupils dilated.

Joad carefully drew the torso of a woman in the dirt, breasts, hips, pelvis.

His independent hands rolled a cigarette, smoothed it and lighted it, and he inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out through his nose.

The willows of a stream lined across the west, and to the northwest a fallow section was going back to sparse brush.

And now a light truck approached, and as it came near, the driver saw the turtle and swerved to hit it.

I choose the fluffy pilla.

Men and women huddled in their houses, and they tied handkerchiefs over their noses when they went out, and wore goggles to protect their eyes.

I'd maybe shoot a fella in the dark, but I don't maul nobody with a fence stake no more.

They look over the fence sniffing for us, and the stiff ears swivel to hear us, and the black forelocks!

Joad speeded his pace against the sun, and he started down the declivity.

Snubnosed monsters, raising the dust and sticking their snouts into it, straight down the country, across the country, through fences, through dooryards, in and out of gullies in straight lines.

Muley's face was smooth and unwrinkled, but it wore the truculent look of a bad child's, the mouth held tight and small, the little eyes half scowling, half petulant.

And the men looked up for a second, and the smolder of pain was in their eyes.

In the last part of May the sky grew pale and the clouds that had hung in high puffs for so long in the spring were dissipated.

Muley giggled.

His extended foot swung slowly up and down in the tempo.

He looked over secretly to see whether Joad was interested or amazed.

"Goin' someplace," Joad explained, a little piqued.

He's always savin' a pig for Christmus and then it dies in September of bloat or somepin so you can't eat it.

The willows of a stream lined across the west, and to the northwest a fallow section was going back to sparse brush.

The cotton field scurried with waking life, the quick flutter of morning birds feeding on the ground, the scamper over the clods of disturbed rabbits.

Ma came in with wet hands, and her palms puckered and bloated from hot water and soap.

Joad watched him for a moment and then got slowly to his feet and retrieved him and wrapped him in the coat again.

Willy was bashful, awful bashful.

The car skidded back onto the road, and went on, but more slowly.

From her position as healer, her hands had grown sure and cool and quiet; from her position as arbiter she had become as remote and faultless in judgment as a goddess.

The beam of light was closer now, and it bounced into the sky and then disappeared, and then bounced up again.

A thick-furred yellow shepherd dog came trotting down the road, head low, tongue lolling and dripping.

The cat crept along behind for a while, but in a dozen yards it arched its back to a strong taut bow and yawned, and came stealthily back toward the seated men.

His eyes were very dark brown and there was a hint of brown pigment in his eyeballs.

The men in the fields looked up at the clouds and sniffed at them and held wet fingers up to sense the wind.

His face, squared by a bristling pepper and salt beard, was all drawn down to the forceful chin, a chin thrust out and built out by the stubble beard which was not so grayed on the chin, and gave weight and force to its thrust.

He talked the smart listless language of the roadsides to her.

They were silent, and gradually the skittering life of the ground, of holes and burrows, of the brush, began again; the gophers moved, and the rabbits crept to green things, the mice scampered over clods, and the winged hunters moved soundlessly ov

The driver was reassured.

Gophers and ant lions started small avalanches.

The plows crossed and recrossed the rivulet marks.

At the willow he knew there would be shade, at least one hard bar of absolute shade thrown by the trunk, since the sun had passed its zenith.

You're buying a little girl plaiting the forelocks, taking off her hair ribbon to make bows, standing back, head cocked, rubbing the soft noses with her cheek.

Sheaf of contracts, dog-eared, held with paper clips, and a neat pile of unused contracts.

Then the motor roared up and the gears clicked and the great red truck rolled heavily away.
3
THE CONCRETE HIGHWAY was edged with a mat of tangled, broken, dry grass, and the grass heads were heavy with oat beards to catch on a dog's coat, and foxtails

Holy Sperit when their own sperit is downcast an' sad?

He poured salt in his hand and sprinkled it over the pieces of rabbit strung on the wire.

He looked out over the fields, at the shimmering air, and gathering his gum into his cheek, out of the way, he spat out the window.

The sun lay on the grass and warmed it, and in the shade under the grass the insects moved, ants and ant lions to set traps for them, grasshoppers to jump into the air and flick their yellow wings for a second, sow bugs like little armadillos, plod

He looked out over the fields, at the shimmering air, and gathering his gum into his cheek, out of the way, he spat out the window.

I mean"—he stumbled—"what I mean, if a fella's got somepin to eat an' another fella's hungry—why, the first fella ain't got no choice.

Casy suggested elaborately, "Maybe Tom'll kill the fatted calf like for the prodigal in Scripture."

A flock of pigeons started from the deck of the tank house and flew around and settled again and strutted to the edge to look over; white pigeons and blue pigeons and grays, with iridescent wings.

The rain crust broke and the dust lifted up out of the fields and drove gray plumes into the air like sluggish smoke.

His timidity was set off by hers, a curious embarrassment.

His cheeks were brown and shiny and hairless and his mouth full—humorous or sensual.

And the flames licked up around the meat and hardened and glazed the surfaces.

Diesel tractors, puttering while they stood idle; they thundered when they moved, and then settled down to a droning roar.

Horses came to the watering troughs and nuzzled the water to clear the surface dust.

Knocked his head plumb to squash."

At last Joad's long upper lip grinned up from his teeth and he chuckled silently, his chest jerked with the chuckles.

Nighttime I'd lay on my back an' look up at the stars; morning I'd set an' watch the sun come up; midday I'd look out from a hill at the rollin' dry country; evenin' I'd foller the sun down.

The front door hung open inward, and a low strong gate across the front door hung outward on leather hinges.

It was a Hudson Super-Six sedan, and the top had been ripped in two with a cold chisel.

The right of way was fenced, two strands of barbed wire on willow poles.

He waited to let the whole emphasis of the preceding passage disappear and be forgotten.

Then the motor roared up and the gears clicked and the great red truck rolled heavily away.
3
THE CONCRETE HIGHWAY was edged with a mat of tangled, broken, dry grass, and the grass heads were heavy with oat beards to catch on a dog's coat, and fo

Two rangy shepherd dogs trotted up pleasantly, until they caught the scent of strangers, and then they backed cautiously away, watchful, their tails moving slowly and tentatively in the air, but their eyes and noses quick for animosity or danger.

His horny beak was partly open, and his fierce, humorous eyes, under brows like fingernails, stared straight ahead.

In Noah's broad face, eyes too far apart, and long fragile jaw, Pa thought he saw the twisted, warped skull of the baby.

The men were ruthless because the past had been spoiled, but the women knew how the past would cry to them in the coming days.

You'll find your folks piled in John's house like gophers in a winter burrow."

Grampa focused his eyes fiercely until he recognized Casy.

During a night the wind raced faster over the land, dug cunningly among the rootlets of the corn, and the corn fought the wind with its weakened leaves until the roots were freed by the prying wind and then each stalk settled wearily sideways towar

There was no talk until the food was gone, the coffee drunk; only the crunch of chewed food and the slup of coffee cooled in transit to the tongue.

Tom sauntered forward, sidled embarrassedly toward the truck.

In the dust there were drop craters where the rain had fallen, and there were clean splashes on the corn, and that was all.

When the night came again it was black night, for the stars could not pierce the dust to get down, and the window lights could not even spread beyond their own yards.

High compression got lots a sap for a while, but the metal ain't made that'll hold it for long.

A day went by and the wind increased, steady, unbroken by gusts.

It says in po'try: "'Merry Christmas, purty child, Jesus meek an' Jesus mild, Underneath the Christmas tree There's a gif' for you from me.'

Beyond the fence, the corn lay beaten down by wind and heat and drought, and the cups where leaf joined stalk were filled with dust.