She hesitated a long time. “Tom, this here policeman—he called us— Okies. He says, ‘We don’ want you goddamn Okies settlin’ down.’ ’’ Tom studied her, and his hand still rested gently on her bare foot. “Fella tol’ about that,’’ he said. “Fella tol’ how they say it.’’ He considered, “Ma, would you say I was a bad fella? Oughta be locked up—like that?’’ “No,’’ she said. “You been tried— No. What you ast me for?’’ “Well, I dunno. I’d a took a sock at that cop.’’ Ma smiled with amusement. “Maybe I oughta ast you that, ’cause I nearly hit ’im with a skillet.’’
