Work Text:
The deep green pool of the Salinas River was still in the late afternoon. Already the sun had left the valley to go climbing up the slopes of the Gabilan Mountains, and the hilltops were rosy in the sun. But by the pool among the mottled sycamores, a pleasant shade had fallen.
Suddenly Lennie appeared out of the brush, and he came as silently as a creeping bear moves. Lennie came quietly to the pool's edge. He knelt down and drank, barely touching his lips to the water. When a little bird skittered over the dry leaves behind him, his head jerked up and he strained toward the sound with eyes and ears until he saw the bird, and then he dropped his head and drank again.
When he was finished, he sat down on the bank, with his side to the pool, so that he could watch the trail's entrance. He embraced his knees and laid his chin down on his knees.
The light climbed on out of the valley, and as it went, the tops of the mountains seemed to blaze with increasing brightness.
Lennie said softly, "I di'n't forget, you bet, God damn. Hide in the brush an' wait for George." He pulled his hat down low over his eyes. "George gonna give me hell," he said. "George gonna wish he was alone an' not have me botherin' him." He turned his head and looked at the bright mountain tops. "I can go right off there an' find a cave," he said. And he continued sadly, "-an' never have no ketchup but I won't care. If George don't want me... I'll go away. I'll go away."
George’s voice cuts through the quiet noise around the pool as he silently makes his way through the bushes behind Lennie.
“Who the hell you talkin’ ta, crazy bastard?”
He said as quietly as he moved. George looked up the dirt path he came from.
Lennie got up on his knees. "You ain't gonna leave me, are ya, George? I know you ain't."
George came stiffly near and sat down beside him. "No."
"I knowed it," Lennie cried. "You ain't that kind."
George was silent.
Lennie said, "George."
"Yeah?"
"I done another bad thing."
"It don't make no difference," George said, and he fell silent again.
Only the topmost ridges were in the sun now. The shadow in the valley was blue and soft. George turned his head and stared up the dirt path hidden only by half trampled bushes.
Lennie said, "George."
"Yeah?"
"Ain't you gonna give me hell?"
"Give ya hell?”
"Sure, like you always done before. Like, 'If I di'n't have you I'd take my fifty bucks -'"
"Jesus Christ, Lennie! You can't remember nothing that happens, but you remember ever' word I say."
"Well, ain't you gonna say it?"
George shook himself. He said woodenly, "If I was alone I could live so easy." His voice was monotonous, had no emphasis. "I could get a job an' not have no mess." He stopped.
"Go on," said Lennie. "An' when the enda the month come -"
"An' when the end of the month came I could take my fifty bucks an' go to a... cat house..." He stopped again.
Lennie looked eagerly at him. "Go on, George. Ain't you gonna give me no more hell?"
"No," said George.
"Well, I can go away," said Lennie. "I'll go right off in the hills an' find a cave if you don' want me."
George shook himself again. "No," he said. "I want you to stay with me here."
Lennie said craftily - "Tell me like you done before."
"Tell you what?"
"'Bout the other guys an' about us."
George said, "Guys like us got no fambly. They make a little stake an' then they blow it in. They ain't got nobody in the worl' that gives a hoot in hell about 'em -"
"But not us," Lennie cried happily. "Tell about us now."
George was quiet for a moment. "But not us," he said.
"Because--"
"Because I got you an'-"
"An' I got you. We got each other, that's what, that gives a hoot in hell about us," Lennie cried in triumph.
The little evening breeze blew over the clearing and the leaves rustled and the wind waves flowed up the green pool.
George took off his hat. He said shakily, "Take off your hat, Lennie. The air feels fine."
Lennie removed his hat dutifully and laid it on the ground in front of him. The shadow in the valley was bluer, and the evening came fast. On the wind the sound of crashing in the brush came to them.
Lennie said, "Tell how it's gonna be."
"Look acrost the river, Lennie, an' I'll tell you so you can almost see it."
Lennie turned his head and looked off across the pool and up the darkening slopes of the Gabilans. "We gonna get a little place," George began. He reached in his side pocket and brought out Carlson's Luger; he snapped off the safety, and the hand and gun lay on the ground behind Lennie's back. He looked at the back of Lennie's head, at the place where the spine and skull were joined.
"Go on," said Lennie.
George raised the gun and his hand shook, and he dropped his hand to the ground again.
"Go on," said Lennie. "How's it gonna be. We gonna get a little place."
"We'll have a cow," said George. "An' we'll have maybe a pig an' chickens... an' down the flat we'll have a... little piece alfalfa -”
"For the rabbits," Lennie shouted.
"For the rabbits," George repeated.
"And I get to tend the rabbits."
"An' you get to tend the rabbits."
Lennie giggled with happiness. "An' live on the fatta the lan'."
"Yes."
Lennie turned his head.
"No, Lennie. Look down there acrost the river, like you can almost see the place."
Lennie obeyed him. George looked down at the gun.
George turned and looked toward the dirt path again.
"Go on, George. When we gonna do it?"
"Gonna do it soon."
"Me an' you."
"You... an' me. Ever'body gonna be nice to you. Ain't gonna be no more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from 'em."
Lennie said, "I thought you was mad at me, George."
"No," said George. "No, Lennie. I ain't mad. I never been mad, an' I ain't now. That's a thing I want ya to know."
Lennie begged, "Le's do it now. Le's get that place now."
"Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta."
And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie's head. The hand shook violently.
George shoved the gun back in his pocket.
“Get up, Lennie.”
Lennie looked at him, his head tilted, then scrambled to his feet.
“We gotta run. Now.”
“Where we goin’, George?”
George ran his hand through his hair. He put his hat back on.
“I don’t know. We just gotta go.”
He caught Lennie’s arm and pulled him toward the green water.
Somewhere behind them, men were shouting.
“C’mon.”
George dragged Lennie across the water. Lennie’s head swung back and forth, watching George, watching the trees.
“Stay quiet,” George said.
“Say it.”
“Stay quiet,” Lennie whispered. “Stay quiet. Stay quiet.”
The men’s voices rose behind them. Hooves beat the ground.
George stopped short and Lennie ran into him.
“George- I’m sorry, George. I didn’ mean-”
George clapped a hand over Lennie’s mouth and bent close.
“Quiet,” he said.
George listened, breathing hard, his eyes on the brush behind them. The branches stood still again. Only the water moved, and Lennie’s hat lay by the bank.
Curley swore and slid off his horse. He snatched up the hat.
“He was here,” Curley said. “I know it.”
Slim took the hat from him and turned it in his hands.
“It’s Lennie’s.”
He looked toward the water.
“Carlson, Curley—go upstream,” Slim said. “I’ll look here.”
George and Lennie lay still in the trees. George kept his eyes on the strip of light between the branches.
They heard Curley and Carlson get back on their horses and ride off. One went faster than the other.
Slim walked the edge of the water, watching the trees.
George pressed his hand tighter over Lennie’s mouth. Slim stopped where they had broken through the brush, blocking the light.
He knelt and looked through the branches. Nothing moved.
Slim stood and went on around the pool.
The sun dropped behind the mountains. The sky went dark.
Horses came back to the water.
“The bastard ain’t here!” Curley shouted.
“He ain’t here, either,” Slim said.
“The bastard couldn’t’ve vanished!”
“It’s too dark to keep searchin’,” Slim said. “We’ll come back tomorrow with the sheriff.”
Curley swore, but he didn’t argue. Slim swung back onto his horse, and the men rode away from the pool.
George kept Lennie quiet and still until long after dark. Then he took his hand away.
They got up. George went careful. Lennie went fast.
“Ya sure ya ain’t mad, George?”
“I ain’t mad.”
George led Lennie through the trees, away from the water.
They ran through the night. When the light came, they were still going.