Chapter 7

George watched silently as the men brought in from town hauled up Lennie's now stiff body and prepared to haul it away. Several emotions flicked quickly across his face, almost like a dance. Regret sorrow, loss. He thought briefly upon what might have happened if he had not shot Lennie, but quickly drew away from that kind of thinking. George waited until the nameless men had finally gone away before he moved out from the shadow line of the trees. He shuffled across the ground and plopped down right next to where Lennie's body had lain.

"Guess we ain't getting outta this one are we, Lennie?" George sighed, burying his face in his hands.

He sat there for a while longer before heading back toward the ranch, the leg cuffs of his overalls dragging the ground, making a soft scratching sound. He wordlessly entered the bunk house and crossed over to his bed, barely taking note of Slim and Candy coming toward him.

"How ya doin', George?" Candy asked, siting down beside him on the bed.

"I'll be alright. Eventually," George said, sighing and leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

The next day, the replacement for Lennie arrived, quickly weeks turned into months, and finally a full year rolled around. George had made new acquaintances at the ranch and had even gotten to know Lennie's replacement, Rae, quite well. That day went just as well as the rest, and at about eight o' clock, George excused himself from the bunk house, simply saying that he had something important to attend to. He silently made his way through the black night, back down to the exact place where Lennie's body had fallen. He sat down next to the spot, and lay back to stare at the stars for a while.

Nearby, a small field mouse scurried through he low lying grass and George smiled softly to himself, his head filled with memories of Lennie. This time last year, he promised to himself he wouldn't dwell over thoughts of Lennie, but he supposed a slip up every now and then couldn't be too bad, could it?