It all started when Slim and Curley came in the bunkhouse arguing one night. Then Curley turned to Lennie and says “what you laughing at”, and then he started lashing out at Lennie and smashed him in the nose. I couldn’t stand it anymore Lennie wouldn’t fight back so I told him to “let him have it”. Lennie caught Curley’s punch, then he crushed it and he wouldn’t let go. When he let his fist go it was flattened, not a bone was left unbroken in his hand. I was sure Lennie and I were going to get canned but Slim saved our skins. He told Curley that if he told anyone what happened and get us canned, we will tell everyone then he would get the laugh. That was good of Slim.
I was all right at this point, I was happy, I thought if Lennie play and I our cards right and keep clean for a month we will get our fifty bucks each and get that ranch with old Candy. I started to believe our dream could really happen.
All the lads and me were playing horses shoes late Sunday evening. I heard shuffling footsteps from the barn, I looked and saw Candy making his way towards me. His body language said every thing, when he looked at me I felt that something was wrong. He came to me said quietly “you better come to the barn”. When I saw Curley’s wife lying there dead the painful thought going though my mind that I had no other solution to this problem but assume that it was Lennie and knew that was what Candy was thinking. At this point the dream was over for sure of a little ranch.
I knew this was the end of the road for Lennie. I knew Curley would want lynch him so Candy and I discussed what we were going to do. I went to the bunkhouse and got Carlson’s gun, while Candy went to get the boys. My memory flicked back to the night Carlson shot Candy’s dog. I went to the barn and heard how they were all planning how they going to get him, Slim reassured me that it was the only way.
The others went of all armed; they all went the opposite way to where Lennie should be. I knew he would be by the river where we slept a few nights ago, I told him if he ever got into trouble to go there and wait for me. Sure enough he was there, looking at him made me shiver about the thought of my duty ahead.
Lennie expected me to be angry with him but I told him visualise the dream of the imaginary ranch and how the rabbits would hop around and there soft hair. When he looked away I ended his life hoping he was going to a better place. As his lifeless body hit the ground it set a feeling guilt that was unimaginable. I looked at my right hand, which held the gun I throw it away in disgust.
I’ve moved on now people, just don’t care about ranch hands. Best of luck Tom perhaps life will treat you better than Lennie and I.
George.
