Fragment Friday

The Grapes of Wrath By John Steinbeck

Pa stepped inside, clearing the door, and Tom looked in at his mother. She was lifting the curling slices of pork from the frying pan. The oven door was open, and a great pan of high brown biscuits stood waiting there. She looked out the door,but the sun was behind Tom, and she saw only a dark figure outlined by the bright yellow sunlight. She nodded pleasantly. 'Come in,' she said. 'Jus' lucky I made plenty of bread this morning.' 

Tom stood looking in. Ma was heavy, but not fat; thick with child-bearing and work. She wore a loose Mother Hubbard of grey cloth in which there had once been coloured flowers, but the colour was washed out now, so that the small flowered pattern was only a little lighter grey than the background. The dress came down to her ankles , and her strong, broad, bare feet moved quickly and deftly over the floor. Her thin, steel-grey hair was gathered in a sparse wispy knot at the back of her head. Strong, freckled arms were bare to the elbow, and her hands were chubby and delicate, like those of a plump little girl. She looked out into the sunshine. Her full face was not soft; it was controlled, kindly. Her hazel eyes seemed to have experienced all possible tragedy and to have mounted pain and suffering like steps into a high calm and superhuman understanding. She seemed to know, to accept, to welcome her position, the citadel of the family, the strong place that could not be taken. And since old Tom and the children could not know hurt or feat unless she acknowledged hurt and fear, she had practised denying them in herself. And since, when a joyful thing happened, they looked to see whether joy was on her, it was her habit to build up laughter out of inadequate materials. But better than joy was calm. Imperturbability could be depended upon. And from her great and humble position in the family she had taken dignity and a clean calm beauty. 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 judgement as a goddess. She seemed to know that if she swayed the family shook, and if she ever really deeply wavered or despaired the family would fall, the family will to function would be gone. 

She looked out into the sunny yard, at the dark figure of a man. Pa stood near by, shaking with excitement. 'Come in,' she cried. 'Come right in,mister.' And Tom a little shamefacedly stepped over the doorsill. She looked up pleasantly from the frying-pan. And then her hand sank slowly to her side and the fork clattered to the wooden floor. Her eyes opened wide,and her pupils dilated. She breathed heavily through her open mouth. She closed her eyes. 'Thank God,' she said. 'Oh, thank God!' And suddenly her face was worried. 'Tommy, you ain't wanted? You didn't bust loose?'