24
PARTISAN REVIEW
Something stirred under it. It was a boy who sat up on my approach,
tucking a finger into the book he'd been reading to keep his place.
"Hullo," I said. "How far is it to Wheatpatch ?"
"This is Wheatpatch. Clump of wild wheat usta grow offa that
corner." He indicated the crossing of two dusty roads. "Where are
you going?"
"Damn!" I said, sitting down on the grass under the tree. "I thought
it was a town. How far's it to the highway."
"Ten miles." He kept glancing at my bruised cheek. "Been m a
fight?"
"Kicked off of a freight," I explained. "Souvenir from a bull."
"I hate cops!" he said. I looked at him curiously. He was sixteen,
of a sturdy built, with blue eyes and thick, straw-colored hair. H is face
was wide, and the nose and lips sensitive.
"\Vhy ?" I asked.
He sat up abruptly, wincing. "Got a sprained leg," he explained.
He nursed it for a moment.
"They don't bother you out here, do they?"
"They're gonna forclose on us," he retorted shaq1ly.
"You mean--."
"Yeh. The farm. It took us eight years to build it up. It used to
be a good farm, too, until the power company busted us. We sided with
the workers against the big ranches. That was in the cotton strike."
"Sure," I said. "I heard about .it." As a matter of fact I had been
sent, not many months ago, down to Tulare, the heart of the cotton region
to collect material for a pamphlet on the activities of the youth in that
·strike. struggle. "But I don't understand," I continued. "I thought the
workers won the strike."
"They did. So did some of the small farm cTs. Bil t the smidl farmers
union busted up. And since then the power company's closing down on
us. They won't rent us any water."
"Well," I asked, "can't the union be reorganized?"
"I guess so," he said. "But it ain't, and if we don't make a crop
this season--."
I reverted to the cops, not knowing what else to say. "What about
them?" I ask:ed.
"Didn't the company use 'em to
~eparate
us? Isn't the bank using
the sheriff now to take away the farm? And didn't they kill Johnny?"
"At Arvin?"
He nodded his head. "He was the union organizer. l\1y brother."
We were silent for a while. "This is his book," he said suddenly.
"I've
been trying to read it." I tried not to show surprise.
"How do you like it?"
