Pa went inside the tent, and in a moment he came out with pale blue, washed overalls and shirt on. And he led the sad and startled children toward the sanitary unit.
Ma called after him, “Scrounge aroun’ good in their ears.”
Uncle John came to the door of the men’s side and looked out, and then he went back and sat on the toilet a long time and held his aching head in his hands.
Ma had taken up a panload of brown pone and was dropping spoons of dough in the grease for a second pan when a shadow fell on the ground beside her. She looked over her shoulder. A little man dressed all in white stood behind her—a man with a thin, brown, lined face and merry eyes. He was lean as a picket. His white clean clothes were frayed at the seams. He smiled at Ma. “Good morning,” he said.
Ma looked at his white clothes and her face hardened with suspicion.
“Mornin’,” she said.
“Are you Mrs. Joad?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m Jim Rawley. I’m camp manager. Just dropped by to see if everything’s all right. Got everything you need?”
Ma studied him suspiciously. “Yes,” she said.