A/N: Here it is, my first story. It's an alternative ending, starting at the scene where George is preparing to kill Lennie. This was an assignment for my American Literature class, and I got an A on it. Hopefully you enjoy it, but if not, go ahead and tell me. I love critism!
Disclaimer: I own none of it. George, Lennie, Curley - They are totally not mine. I wish I owned it, because then I would be John Steinbeck. That would be awesome, even if he is dead.
The voices came close, now. George raised the gun and listened to the voices.
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 brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie's head. The hand shook violently, but his face set and his hand steadied.
His finger lay on the trigger. The crash of a shot rolled up the hills and back down again. Lennie flinched, startled. He looked behind him at George, who was clutching his stomach. Confusion flashed across Lennie's face, and he sat, frozen.
"George? Whatcha doin' George?"
A new voice reached the clearing. "Goddamnit! Why'd ya do that, Curley?! Couldn't ya just have killed Lennie?" Slim exclaimed. Him, Curley and Carlson were standing, shocked, at the edge of the clearing, a smoking shotgun hanging limply in Curley's hand.
"I missed," was the simple response.
For a moment, there was total silence. The air was still, with not even a whisper disturbing the scene. The leaves of the trees were motionless, drooping in the heat of the day. The nearby pond was empty of sound, the usual splashing and gurgling gone. There were no animals adding their sounds to the area, no birds chirping or toads croaking. The cicadas, mosquitoes and other insects had quieted. They had been scared off by the shot, or perhaps by the tension in the clearing.
Then, a flash of movement started time again. Curley snapped out of the stupor and charged at Lennie, his good fist raised.
"Ya son-of-a-bitch! Ya yella bastard! Stand up and take it like the man you ain't!" Curley yelled, anger radiating off him.
Lennie stood up, and fear replaced his confusion he had been feeling. Curley's good fist swiped at Lennie's face, and found it's mark. Lennie cried out in surprise, as he raised his own hands to protect himself. Curley, seeing an opening, jabbed Lennie in the belly. Lennie doubled over, scared and confused. He tried to retreat from Curley.
"Le' me alone! George? Make 'im go, George!" Lennie cried out. "George?"
A tired, raspy voice rose from the clearing's floor, "Get 'im, Lennie. Get 'im for all he's worth."
Lennie moved quickly for someone of his size. His huge fist hit Curley in the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. A small pop was audible, and a cry of pain escaped Curley. Lennie didn't stop. He pulled Curley up by the shirt, and smashed with his fists again and again. Carlson shouted in alarm, and raced to the two, trying to pull Lennie away from Curley in vain.
Slim ran to George, who was still lying on the ground, pale and sweating. George had a look of almost triumph on his face, even through the pain.
"You gotta make 'im stop. He's gonna kill Curley, and that ain't gonna make it easier for Lennie. You know it. You gotta make 'im stop!" Slim's tone was commanding.
"Why, Slim? Why do I gotta do that?" George said through gritted teeth. "He shot me, Slim. Shot me." George moved his hand from his stomach, showing Slim the bloody mess that was his stomach. "Why do I gotta do anything for that bastard?"
"Listen, George. This ain't about you. This is about Lennie. They're already after 'im for killin' Curley's wife. They'll be even worse after him for killin' Curley. You said ya wouldn't make 'im jump in any lakes again. What do you think you're doin' now?"
There was regret and realization on George's face. He raised his voice till it was above the sound of Carlson trying to pull Lennie away.
"Lennie! Lennie, stop! Run, Lennie, run! Get away from here! Go to your cave! Lennie, run!" George yelled, beginning to writhe in pain.
Lennie froze, Curley's body still hanging in his hands. Carlson tried to pry his hands away, but to no avail. Lennie looked at George in confusion.
"George? But George, you said ta get him for all he's worth. Right George?" Lennie asked.
George's voice was filled with familiar frustration but with a new hint of desperation. "I know what I said, Lennie, but you gotta run now. Go. Now." Lennie was still confused, but he dropped Curley to the ground and turned.
The steady pounding of his feet continued for some time, till it faded away. Carlson stood from where he was crouched next to Curley, with his shotgun in his hands. He made to chase after Lennie, but Slim's voice stopped him.
"Leave him, Carlson. You can pick him up later. We gotta take care of Curley and George." Carlson looked down at George, who had fainted. "I'm not sure the poor bastard's gonna make it, Carlson. Damnit, Curley, why'd ya have to miss?"
Lennie ran. He ran hard. His legs carried him quickly and clumsily, past plants and trees and roads and fields. Animals raced away from the pounding of his feet, and the wind whipped past him, proving it could go faster that any beast. Lennie was aware of none of this. George's "Run!" followed him everywhere, spurring him on.
He ran farther and faster than he'd ever run in his life, until George's cry died out from his mind. He finally tripped over a stray root and fell into a clearing, much like the one he had just fled from.
Lennie flopped on the ground, and tried to catch his breath, focusing solely on the in and out of his lungs. Confusion was still with him, his ever-constant companion.
"George, what do I do now? You said to run, but what now?" Lennie asked, and fell silent. He gently rubbed his cheek, in the region where Curley had struck him.
It was a small, bare, clearing. The branches above created checkered shadows on the dirt and sparse grass below. There was meager vegetation, and most of it had turned brown with the heat and the advancing season change.
"George? Where are you? You gotta help me, George. You gotta come out George. Where are you hiding?" Lennie's head twisted from side to side, expecting George to walk into the clearing at any moment.
Movement caught his eye, and he focused on the edge of the clearing. In the shadows of a large tree, was a tiny brown rabbit, nibbling the grass. Lennie gasped, and the rabbit froze. He lowered himself to all fours, and slowly began to crawl. He inched along the ground, the grass tickling his hands and chin. The rabbit's eyes were wide, with the whites visible around it. Its chest barely moved, and the beating of its heart was dangerously fast.
Finally, the rabbit was within reach. It's little pink nose stood out against the chocolate brown fur. Slowly, Lennie reached out his hand towards the rabbit. Just as it was about to bolt, Lennie's had clamped down on the rabbit. A grin broke out on Lennie's face, and he pulled the rabbit close.
"Nice rabbit. It's okay, I don't wanna hurt you. I only wanna pet you." Lennie ran his hand from the rabbit's head to it's end, feeling it's fur. He sat there, mumbling comforting words.
He lifted his hand high to pet it again, and the rabbit tried to jerk away. Lennie's hand, underneath the rabbit, stopped it from escaping, but he forcefully slammed his hand down. When he lifted his hand to reveal the rabbit, it lay still. Its eyes were open, but its chest had stopped moving, and its heartbeat had stilled. Lennie let out a whimper of dismay, and his hand reached out to pet the rabbit. It continued to lie there, and a clouded expression overcame Lennie's face.
"Why you done that? I was just petting you all nice, and you wanna run away. Look what you did. Now George ain't ever gonna let me tend the rabbits!" Lennie continued to stroke the rabbit, but its heart never moved. "There was gonna be a house, and cream with a knife, and alfalfa, and a rabbit pen, and I was gonna take care of them, and now I can't ever. And it's all because you wanted to run away!"
Lennie, in anger, threw the rabbit into the trees.
"Now George'll never let me tend the rabbits."