Feltus has had no luck selling his turnips and cabbages the past few days, but he's still optimistic. His wife, Creola, is less sure. She's been against his investment — of all their money — in fertilizer and tires from the beginning, but while they have brought him a bountiful harvest, the harvest has so far been unable to bring them a bountiful bank account. As he leaves to peddle his wares at the last possible customer nearby, a school for the deaf and mute, he congratulates himself on avoiding his neighbors' destitution, depression, and dependence on welfare. Creola thinks of how the commercialization of food has rendered her cooking skills obsolete. She can only stand in the driveway and worry. But when Feltus finally reaches the school, the answer is a firm no. In shock, he realizes that his entire investment, along with all of his energy, will go to waste. Even worse, his distraction causes him to swerve off the road and crash his truck. He beats his breast and rages against God until Pittman, a young, hardy, and successful Black and Indigenous man, arrives and tows his truck onto the road. All of a sudden, Feltus sees deliverance in the waning light: a cloud of locusts. For the good times, he thinks, he'll have to wait out the bad. Feltus thinks of his sons and Pittman, and a joyous song rings forth in his soul.