He released his lip and said softly, “We been a-lookin’, Ma. Been walkin’ out sence we can’t use the gas no more. Been goin’ in ever’ gate, walkin’ up to ever’ house, even when we knowed they wasn’t gonna be nothin’. Puts a weight on ya. Goin’ out lookin’ for somepin you know you ain’t gonna find.”
Ma said fiercely, “You ain’t got the right to get discouraged. This here fambly’s goin’ under. You jus’ ain’t got the right.”
Pa inspected his scraped nail. “We gotta go,” he said. “We didn’ wanta go. It’s nice here, an’ folks is nice here. We’re feared we’ll have to go live in one a them Hoovervilles.”
“Well, if we got to, we got to. First thing is, we got to eat.” Al broke in. “I got a tankful a gas in the truck. I didn’ let nobody get into that.” Tom smiled. “This here Al got a lot of sense along with he’s randy-pandy.”
“Now you figger,” Ma said. “I ain’t watchin’ this here fambly starve no more. One day’ more grease. That’s what we got. Come time for Rosasharn to lay in, she got to be fed up. You figger!”
“This here hot water an’ toilets—” Pa began. “Well, we can’t eat no toilets.” Tom said, “They was a fella come by today lookin’ for men to go to Marysville. Pickin’ fruit.”
“Well, why don’ we go to Marysville?” Ma demanded.
“I dunno,” said Tom. “Didn’ seem right, somehow. He was so anxious. Wouldn’ say how much the pay was. Said he didn’ know exactly.” Ma said, “We’re a-goin’ to Marysville. I don’ care what the pay is. We’re a-goin’.”
“It’s too far,” said Tom. “We ain’t got the money for gasoline. We couldn’ get there. Ma, you say we got to figger. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ but figger the whole time.”
Uncle John said, “Feller says they’s cotton a-comin’ in up north, near a place called Tulare. That ain’t very far, the feller says.”