Passage 2
On days when there is work, talk to the other guys. Some of them tell me that the harvest season is coming in northern California, and they say that one can earn good money there. Things haven't gone so badly in the car wash, but one afternoon give the manager my thanks for having hired and promoted me, and with a little suitcase that night I board a Greyhound headed north. My ticket is made out for San Francisco, but I don't plan to go that far. I plan to ride until find a place where people are harvesting, and to get off the bus there.
I sleep on the bus for a few hours that night, and in the morning, when I awake, I don't know where we are. get up from my seat and walk down the bus aisle, looking for a Mexican or Chicano to tell me our location, but oddly enough, I don' t see any among the passengers, who are all white- skinned. I pay attention to the road signs we pass, but they are not of much help. I can read the town names, but I don't know where the towns lie. A map would help me, and I decide to buy one at our next stop. Lots of things are for sale at the bus stop's gift shop, but there are no maps. I direct myself towards the shop's operator but I run into the language barrier. The operator is an Anglo, and when speak to him in Spanish, he says that he doesn't understand. I try to practice my very precarious(不可靠的) English with him, but it's' of no use. I have rough idea of the sound of the words that want to say, but I can't' pronounce them right make signs, signaling big piece of paper and say "from California", but he turns into a question mark, with eyes wide open, arms raised and hands extended. "Map ."I say, but don't pronounce the word very well. "Freeways, streets, "I add, but he still doesn't understand. He points out chewing gum, candies, pieces of cake, sandwiches, soft drinks, and cigarettes, trying to guess what I'm asking for. But he doesn't show me any maps. Finally, I back out of the store, and as I leave I hear him say, "I'm sorry.”
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