"Well," said Pa, "he's a-billygoatin' aroun' the country. Tom-cattin' hisself to death. Smart-aleck sixteen-year-older, an' his nuts is just a-eggin' him on. He don't think of nothin' but girls and engines. A plain smart alek. Ain't been in nights for a week."
(Chapter 8, pg. 82--audio: )
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"Good," said Pa, and then his eyes stared down the road. "If I ain't mistaken, there's a young smart aleck draggin' his tail home right now," he said. "Looks purty wore out, too."
Tom and the preacher looked up the road. And randy Al, seeing he was being noticed, threw back his shoulders, and he came into the yard with a swaying strut like that of a rooster about to crow. Cockily, he walked close before he recognized Tom; and when he did, his boasting face changed, and admiration and veneration shone in his eyes, and his swagger fell away. His stiff jeans, with the bottoms turned up eight inches to show his heeled boots, his three-inch belt with copper figures on it, even the red arm bands on his blue shirt and the rakish angle of his Stetson hat could not build him up to his brother's stature; for his brother had killed a man, and no one would ever forget it. Al knew that even he had inspired some admiration among the boys of his own age because his brother had killed a man. He had heard in Sallisaw how he was pointed out: "That's Al Joad. His brother killed a fella with a shovel."
And now Al, moving humbly near, saw that his brother was not a swaggerer as he had supposed. Al saw the dark brooding eyes of his brother, and the prison calm, the smooth hard face trained to indicate nothing to a prison guard, neither resistance nor slavishness. And instantly Al changed. Unconsciously he became like his brother and his handsome face brooded, and his shoulders relaxed. He hadn't remembered how Tom was.
(Chapter 8, pgs. 84-85--Audio: Ch.8, Part XViii--1:51)
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Al tried to control his question. "Did--did you bust out? Of jail?"
"No," said Tom. "I got paroled."
"Oh." And Al was a little disappointed.
(Chapter 8, pg 85--Audio: Ch.8, Part XIX--1:33)
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He might be a musking goat sometimes, but this was his responsibility, this truck, its running, and its maintenance. If something went wrong it would be his fault, and while no one would say it, everyone, and Al most of all, would know it was his fault. And so he felt it, watched it, and listened to it. And his face was serious and responsible. And everyone respected him and his responsibility. Even Pa, who was the leader, would hold a wrench and take orders from Al.
(Chapter 10, page 97--Audio: Ch. 10, Part Viii--0:53)
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"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."
(Chapter 26, p. 351)
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...Tom got into the dirver's seat and stepped on the starter. It buzzed a little, and then stopped.
"Goddamn you, Al!" Tom cried. "You let the battery run down."
Al blustered, "How the hell was I gonna keep her up if I ain't got no gas to run her?"
Tom chuckled suddenly. "Well I don' know how, but it's your fault. You got to crank her."
"I tell you it ain't my fault."
Tom got out and found the crank under the seat. "It's my fault," he said.
(Chapter 26, p. 360)
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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 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. "Id get myself a job in a garage an' I'd eat in restaurants--"
"An' you'd have a wife in' kid in nine months."
"I tell ya I wouldn'."
"Tom said, "You're a wise guy, Al. You gonna take some beatin' over the head."
"Who's gonna do it?"
"They'll always be guys to do it," said Tom.
"You think jus' because you--"
"Now you jus' stop that," Ma broke in.
"I done it," said Tom. "I was a-badgerin' him. I didn' mean no harm, Al. I didn' know you liked that girl so much."
"I don't like no girls much."
"Awright, then, you don't. You ain't gonna get no argument out of me."
(Chapter 26, p. 361-62)
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A snake wriggled across the warm highway. Al zipped over and ran it down and came back to his own lane.
"Gopher snake," said Tom. "You aughtn't to done that."
"I hate 'em," said Al gaily. "Hate all kinds. Give me the stomach-quake."
(Chapter 26, p. 365)