“Same to you. So long.”
The truck edged slowly over the big hump and into the road. Tom retraced the road he had driven before, past Weedpatch and west until he came to 99, then north on the great paved road, toward Bakersfield. It was growing light when he came into the outskirts of the city.
Tom said, “Ever’ place you look is restaurants. An’ them places all got coffee. Lookit that all-nighter there. Bet they got ten gallons a coffee in there, all hot!”
“Aw, shut up,” said Al.
Tom grinned over at him. “Well, I see you got yaself a girl right off.”
“Well, what of it?”
“He’s mean this mornin’, Ma. He ain’t good company.” Al said irritably, “I’m goin’ out on my own purty soon. Fella can make his way a lot easier if he ain’t got a fambly.”
Tom said, “You’d have yaself a fambly in nine months. I seen you playin’ aroun’.”
“Ya crazy,” said Al. “I’d get myself a job in a garage an’ I’d eat in restaurants—”
“An’ you’d have a wife an’ kid in nine months.”