A Rancher's Touch
Chapter 7
After roughing my hair up with a towel for a bit, I stood back up from my bed and grabbed the scissors, combing my hand through my hair.
"Alright, who's first?" I asked, looking between the guys.
Slim raised his hand first, stamping out his cigarette in the tray.
"Alright then, off with your hat," I said, folding the towel long ways as I walked over to him, sitting the scissors down on the table.
Once he took his hat off, I ran a hand through his hair, combing it out a bit. His hair was thinner than George's, so there was less to cut and mess with.
"Don't worry Slim, I won't take too much off, that way the lady's will still have something to run their fingers through," I teased, a smile tugging at my lips.
"You're too kind," he chuckled, shaking his head at me.
I just smiled at him though as I placed the towel around his shoulders, running my hand through the back of his hair for a moment. It was obvious that he was getting comfortable with the feeling as he closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing.
"Why are you always so sweet on him?" Whitt asked as I started cutting in the back.
I stopped for a moment as he asked this, before loosely wrapping my arms around Slim's shoulders from behind.
"Well, he is the man of my life after all," I said, leaning down and kissing Slim on the cheek.
The boys started laughing at this. They knew it wasn't true and so did I, but I still liked to joke around from time to time. After all, Slim was like family in my mind, like an older brother.
"I better be," he joked, a hearty smile on his face.
I just shoved him lightly in response, before going back to cutting his hair.
"But really though, why are you so sweet on him?" Whitt asked once more, watching me as I continued with Slim's hair.
"Why you wanna know anyway?" I asked, stringing my fingers through the back of Slim's hair, cutting the ends.
"Just cuz," Whitt replied.
"Well," I started, wiping the corner of my eye for a moment. "First off, he's never once pulled anything on me," I said pointedly.
Carlson laughed when he heard this, knowing that I was referring to the crap that Whit always pulled.
"Not to mention, he's a gentleman," I said, combing his hair down a bit on the side as I took a few more clips at it.
Again, there were a few chuckles around the room. I just ignored it as I moved in front of him, brushing his bangs out of the way for a moment.
"Alright, you still wanna keep it a bit longer on his side?" I asked, gesturing to his left side.
"Yeah, why not."
I smiled at him for his, before running my hand through the front and cutting, evening things out on his right side before going for the left side.
I just let my fingers comb through it, running them down to the tips as I took a few snips at it, keeping it at an angle. I continued this until up was by his ear, evening the line out.
"Alright, all done," I said, ruffling his hair a bit to shake any loose ends out.
After that, I shook the towel out, smug look on my face as I turned to Whitt.
"Alright, your turn Whitt," I said.
"Aw, do I have to?" he whined.
"Yes," I said simply.
"Have at it Chris, Lord knows that mop of his needs it," Slim chuckled.
"Come on, Slim," he groaned.
I just laughed at this, before walking over and tossing the towel around his shoulders.
All eyes were on him now in pure amusement.
"Be nice?" he pleaded.
I merely leaned forward at this, leaving us practically nose to nose.
"Chris?" his voice was wary.
I burst out laughing a minute later, pulling back with a grin on my face.
"It's called payback Whitt," I said, laughing lightly at the fact that I had freaked him out.
"You're the devil," he grumbled.
"Whitt, I'm a saint compared to you," I giggled, ruffling his hair before snipping away at it.
He just sat there grumbling the whole time as I cut his hair, chuckles echoing around the room every now and then.
"I don't know why you're grumbling so much Whitt, especially with how gentle she is," Slim chuckled.
"Yeah, well I can't see what she's doin," he complained, arms crossed over his chest.
It was obvious that it was only half hearted though. They all knew that I wasn't malicious or anything. I've only ever gone as far as to steal Whitt or Jake's hats in spite or their deck of cards, but that was about it.
"Stay still," I said, pulling his head back to where it should be.
"He can't sit still for the life of him," Carlson chuckled.
"Can too," Whitt announced, moving his head to look over at Carlson.
"I said stay still," I groaned, pulling his head back to face me again.
This time, I heard George chuckle, a small smile forming on my face. It was nice to hear him laugh, especially since he seemed like such a quiet guy.
"Okay, I'm done," I announced, brushing his bangs back. "Why don't you go over to the wash house and take a look?" I suggested, removing the towel from his shoulders.
He got up after that and walked out of the bunk house, heading for the wash house. I just smiled to myself, shaking my head.
"Alright, anyone else?" I asked, looking around.
Those that were left just shook their heads.
"Okay, then that means I'm gonna take a nap then," I announced, before walking over to my bed and flopping down on it.
It creaked a bit as I bounced slightly, before finally settling down. George and Slim merely chuckled when they saw this, causing a grin to form on my face.
"Now, don't bug me," I said, curling up on my bed with a yawn.
T
As time passed, so did the light, finally leaving the ranch blanketed in the darkness of night. At this point, Candy was laid on his bed, arm over his eyes. Chris was still asleep on her bed, faced toward George and Lennie's bunks away from the light. Every now and then, George's eyes would flit toward her away from the game of cards he was playing with Whit. Even though the only thing that he could see was her backside, he still found himself staring at her. Whitt caught him staring though, a smirk on his face.
"You like her, don't you?" he grinned.
"Huh?"
"I said, you like her," he repeated.
"What are goin on about?" George asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
"It's obvious you fansy her with the way you keep lookin at her," Whitt chuckled.
"I barely even know her," George argued softly, laying a card down on the table.
"What do you think Carlson?" Whitt asked, turning his head to look at him.
"How the hell should I know," he shrugged, going back to reading his magazine by the light.
"Well, I still think you like her," Whitt grinned.
"Just leave me alone," George sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I knew it!" Whitt cried.
"Would you stop insinuating things and shut up," George groaned, before pointing toward Chris. "She's sleepin, remember?"
"So?"
George gave him a flat look, picking up another card.
"Well, she don't look too good," he pointed out.
"What do ya mean?" Whitt asked, unsure of what George was talking about.
"Forget it," he sighed, looking down at his cards.
It was about that time that Lennie came in, looking as though he were trying to hide something, looking over his shoulder carefully. It was obvious that he was up to something.
"Lennie," George started, his head pressed against his finger for a moment as he leaned forward a bit, elbow on the table. "I told you not to bring that pup in here," he said.
"I ain't got no pup," Lennie said quietly, looking down at his stomach, seemingly cradling something before popping himself in the stomach.
He rolled over onto his side laughing after that, his laughter soon joined by Whitt, then George after realizing he'd been tricked. That was one thing Lennie had never tried doing and he found himself shaking his.
A moment later, the door opened and Curley marching inside, and irritated look on his face. Both George and Whitt stopped for a moment to look at him, staring quietly.
"Any of you boys seen my wife?" he asked, an undertone of accusation in his voice.
"She ain't been here," Whitt said, breathing out a cloud of smoke, before resting his cigarette in the tray.
George merely sat there quietly, turning his eyes back to Whitt to avoid having to look into Curley's eyes. His stare always made him feel uncomfortable, almost as if he were looking down on him. Then again, he was.
"Where the hell's Slim?" he finally asked, absently tightening the glove on his hand.
"Went out to the barn," Whitt told him simply, holding his gaze.
Curley then walked out quickly, the door slamming behind him, Carlson staring after him.
"Carlson. Do you think he'll find Slim in the barn with his wife?" Whitt asked, wiping the corner of his mouth in anticipation.
"Better not tangle with Slim," Carlson said, a grin growing on his face was he walked outside.
"Curley's lookin for a fight. I gotta see this. Come on, George," Whitt said, quickly getting up and running for the door.
"Nah. I'll stay here. Thanks," George said quietly, staying where he was.
Lennie then got up after Whitt left, coming over and sitting next to George at the table, picking up a couple cards and looking at them.
"Curly's wife in the barn?" George asked, a firm look on his face.
"If she was, I didn't see her," Lennie said absently, his mind on the two cards in his hands.
George got up after that, slowly walking toward the door and leaning against the frame as he looked out through the screen.
"George, both ends is the same," Lennie announced in realization. "Why are both the ends is the same?" he asked, looking over at his friend for an answer.
"I don't know," George said offhandedly, scratching his neck. "It's just the way they make them," he told him. "You sure she didn't come in the barn like she come in here?" he asked.
"No. She never."
"Give me a good whorehouse every time. A guy can go in, get drunk…get it all out of his system at once and no messes," he said, making a gesture with his hands, looking back outside a moment later.
T
I sat there awake, listening as they talked. I'd woken up around the time that Lennie had come in, but I kept quiet, laying there still. I'd heard Curley come in, asking about his wife, Whit telling him that he hadn't seen her. I'd nearly flinched when the door slammed though, but managed to remain silent. I shivered though when I heard George mention the whorehouse. Then again, I found myself silently agreeing with him because if my ex would have done that, then I wouldn't be in this stupid mess. Then again, after I thought about it, I knew that I was better off. I'd rather not go around living a lie. For some reason, I felt my eyes water when I thought about it, being reminded of my past. My ears perked though when Lennie started asking question about a little place where they could live. It was 10 acres.
"It's got a windmill…and a little shack on it and a chicken run."
I could see George from my spot on the bed, a small smile on his face as he started talking about it.
"Got rabbits, George?" Lennie asked curiously.
"Well, I could easily build a few hutches…and you could feed them alfalfa," he said, gesturing toward Lennie.
He looked so cheerful now, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a large smile. This was the first time I'd seen him look this happy.
"You damn right! You goddamn right I could!" Lennie announced gleefully. "George, but, George, tell what that house."
"Well," George grinned. "We'd have a little house and a room to ourself," he started, walking away from the door and back toward the table.
I could hear his footsteps echo against the wood.
"And a little fat iron stove…and in the winter, we'd keep the fire going," he said, sitting back down.
"And rabbits. I'm gonna tend them," Lennie said with grand enthusiasm. "How do I tend them rabbits?"
"Well, you go out to the alfalfa field with a sack. You fill up that sack and you bring it in and you put it in the rabbit cages," George explained.
Lennie giggled happily at this, listening as George explained everything to him. How I wished I could turn around and watch them, see the smiles on their faces as they talked, everything sounding like a dream.
"We'd have a few pigeons that go flyin around the windmill…like they done when I was a kid," George said, his voice happy in rememberance. "It'd be our own," he said pointedly. "Nobody could can us," he told him.
I continued to listen, my eyes open and staring out at the empty space of George and Lennie's bunks, a small smile on my face.
"We don't like a guy, we just say, "Get the hell out."," he told him. "If a friend come along, we'd have an extra bunk…we'd just say, "Spend the night," and, by God, he would," he chuckled happily.
This really made me smile, hearing George's words. They were so real, full of feeling.
"We'd have a dog and a couple cats, but you got to make sure them cats don't get them rabbits," George told him.
"You just…you just let them try," Lennie started. "I'm gonna to break them goddamn cats' necks. I smash them cats with a stick," Lennie announced, earning a chuckle from George.
"You know a place like this?" Candy spoke up, quickly quieting the two's laughter.
"Suppose I do, what's it to you?" George asked.
I couldn't see them, but I knew that they were looking over at Candy. An apprehensive look likely on George's face.
"How much they want for a place like that?" Candy asked curiously.
"Could get it for 600 bucks," George answered after a moment. "Old people that owns it is broke," he explained.
"I ain't much good with only one hand," Candy started quietly. "That's why they give me a job sweepin," he said. "They give me $250 because I lost my hand. I got fifty more saved in the bank right now. That's 300," he concluded. "And I got fifty more comin at the end of the month."
I could hear his bed creak a few times as he moved a bit closer on his bed, before continuing.
"Suppose I went in with you fellas," he began. "That'd be $350 I'd put in," he told them. "Let me tell you something. I could cook, tend the chickens, and hoe in the garden. Now, how would that be?" his voice was hopeful as he turned toward them.
I heard Lennie say okay after a moment, before George spoke up, cutting Lennie off before he could say anything else.
"I got to think about that. We was always gonna do it by ourselves," George said quietly.
"We was gonna do it by ourselves," Lennie repeated.
"Wait a minute. I tell you what," Candy said quickly, getting up from his bed.
His footsteps got closer, before I heard him pull a chair out to sit down.
"I'd make a will…and leave my share to you guys in case I kick off," he said, sitting down, his chair squeaking slightly in response. "I ain't got no relatives or nothin. You fellas got any money? We could do it right now," he proposed.
"We got ten bucks between us," George said quietly, a certain tone of sadness catching in his voice.
This in itself made my breath hitch. How could they only have ten bucks between them? Two hard working guys like them. That was barely enough to hold them over with food.
"Ten bucks," Candy mused.
"Yeah…" George said, slightly defeated.
"Well…" Candy voiced, pausing for a moment before change the subject slightly, his voice miserable and lonely. "You seen what they done to my dog. They said he wasn't no good no more," he sighed. "I wish somebody would shoot me when I ain't no good," he said seriously, making me flinch.
I didn't likely hearing him talk like that, I really didn't.
"But they won't do that," he told them. "They can me…and I ain't gonna have no place to go."
I could tell by the silence that this had gotten their attention. From the short time that I'd known George, I knew that he wouldn't be cruel enough to leave a nice fellow like Candy out on a limb. The man was lonely, unable to do much, it wouldn't be right. Even I knew that. He then got up, slowly moving toward the door, before turning around for me to see. I made sure to keep my eyes hidden though, not wanting them to know that I was awake and listening to their conversation, something so sensitive.
"Look, if me and Lennie work a month and we don't spend nothin, we'll have 100 bucks," George stated. "And you got 350?" he asked.
"Yeah and you can have every cent of it," Candy said quickly.
"That'd be 450," George said, moving back toward the table. "Jesus Christ, I bet we could get it for that," he said. "And then you and Lennie could go get her started. Then I'd get a job and make up the rest," he announced, hope weaving back into his voice.
"I'm gonna take that goddamn pup," Lennie exclaimed.
"Sure, sure," George said quickly, sitting down on a chair. "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna write those two old people that we'll take it…and Candy will send $100 to hold hold it?"
"I sure will and I'll have $30 more by the time you guys are ready to quit," he told them.
"And I'll get to tend the rabbits."
"I'll get to hoe in the garden, even if I ain't no good at it."
"Yeah, sure," George laughed happily, a soft smile forming on my face.
At this point, my mind tuned out their voices as they all started talking at once, voices happy and merry.
"Man, shut up! I'm getting tired of it!" I heard Slim yell, my brows furrowing together.
A moment later, Slim and Curley burst into the room, sending me bolting up in my bed.
"You been askin me too often. I'm damn sick of it!" Slim yelled.
In all my time, I don't think I'd ever really heard him yell like that, voice angry. Yeah, he'd gone after one guy for trying to cop a feel with me, but still.
"If you can't look after your goddamn wife, what do you expect me to do about it, huh?" he asked irritably, wiping his hands on a rag. "You lay off me," he told him, the warning in his voice clear as day as they locked eyes with each other, Curley not bothering to back up any.
"I didn't mean nothin by it," Curley said, but I knew that it was a load of bull crap.
"Boy, I said lay off," Slim warned, trying to walk away.
"Just thought you might have seen her, that's all," Curley said, his voice raising a bit.
"Why the hell don't you just tell her to stay home where she belongs," Carlson told him.
"You keep outta this!" Curley shouted, getting up in his face.
"You goddamn punk, you're yellow as a frog belly," Carlson shook his head. "I don't care if you're the best welterweight in the country. You come for me, I'll kick your goddamn head in," he told him, walking away.
Curley just watched as he walked away, the sound of Jake making chicken noises catching everyone's attention, causing Whitt to laugh. Whitt shut up quickly though, but Jake didn't stop, leaving Lennie laughing.
"What the hell you laughin about?" Curley asked, turning on Lennie.
Lennie had no clue what he'd done.
"Huh! You!" he yelled, quickly getting Lennie's attention.
Everyone stood there watching, carefully waiting.
"Come on, you big bastard, get up," he said, walking over toward Slim, staring him in the eyes for a moment before turning back toward Lennie who still sat in his chair.
"No big son of a bitch is gonna laugh at me," he seethed. "Get up!"
Then, before Lennie could even respond, Curley lashed out. His fist went flying, punching Lennie in the face, and sending him flying out of his seat on onto the floor by my bed.
"I'll show you who's yellow," he said, pointing at Carlson. "Get up!" he yelled.
Candy was yelling at him now, saying that he had no cause for hurting Lennie. He didn't listen though as Lennie slowly tried getting up, knocking him back down with his fist.
"Get up and fight!" Curly yelled, punching him again.
"He didn't do nothin!"
"Leave him alone!" Whitt called out.
"Damn it, Curley, stop it!" I screamed, hopping off my bed to help Lennie.
In returned, I got punched in the face instead, sending me flying to the ground against my bed. I felt the back of my head slam against the metal leg, sending me curling into a ball as I held it painfully. In all my life, I'd never gotten like that, something filled with so much rage. Sure, he'd hit me once before when he'd thought I was a man, but still.
"Son of a…" I winced, gripping my head.
No of that stopped him though as he kept hitting Lennie, punching him in the face.
They kept calling for Lennie to fight back, but he wouldn't. Lennie just covered his face as he cried, scared out of his mind.
"Get him, Lennie!"
"Come on, fight back!"
"Get him, Lennie! Get him!" George yelled, his voice cutting through the air.
That was all that it took for Lennie to raise his head, catching Curley's fist in his hand. Curley tried to overpower him, but it did him little good as Lennie started pushing him backwards, Curley trying desperately to free his hand. Lennie pushed him back onto the table, Curley kicking his legs all over the place. He became frantic as he started yelling and screaming.
"Get him off of me! Get him off of me!" he screamed.
Lennie just kept his hold on him, his fist tightening around Curley's.
"Slim, help me," George called, wrapping his arms around Lennie, trying to pull him off.
"Lennie, let go!" he yelled, tugging as hard as he could.
Slim grabbed hold of his arm, using all his strength to try and pulling him off. I could hear bones cracking as I laid there on the floor, staring up and watching the whole thing. Blood started running down Curley's arms, mixing with his screams. I could hear my heart pounding in my ear as I sat there, eyes wide and fearful. He was breaking his hand.
"My God," I whispered.
"Lennie, let go of his hand! Let go!" George yelled, Curley's eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head from the pain.
Then, finally, they pulled him off.
"Jesus," Carlson breathed.
"You told me to, George! You told me to!" Lennie cried, walking over to his bed with George.
"I know, I know. Take it easy now," George said softly, trying to calm him down.
Our eyes met for a moment as he looked around, not sure what to do. I'm not sure that anyone did.
"We got to get him to a doctor," Slim said, placing a hand on Curley's arm and rolling him over onto his back. "Carlson, get the wagon hitched up. We'll take him into Soledad," he said quickly.
"I didn't wanna hurt him! I didn't wanna hurt him!" Lennie cried in hysterics.
"It ain't your fault, Lennie. This punk had it comin to him," Slim told him, trying to reassure him as he went to wrap Curley's hand in a cotton shirt.
It was then that I tried to stand up, placing a wary hand on the end of my bed for support. My head was spinning and my head was pounding, it was terrible.
"Slim?" I breathed, swaying a bit as I stood there.
"Chris?" Slim's voice was full of concern.
I barely even registered the sound of his voice though as I stood there because the next thing I knew, I was falling, falling into a black void.
T
"Chris!" Slim cried as she fell, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
Within seconds, George had wrapped his arms around her, catching her before she could hit the floor.
"Chris. Chris?" George called her name, shaking her lightly.
She didn't respond though, her head merely falling to the side.
"Is she alright?" Slim asked, concern filling his voice.
"I don't know. I think she just passed out," George told him, holding her in his arms.
Lord she was light, even though she was currently dead weight in his arms. He never would have imagined though that that would be the way he'd end up with a woman in his arms, but apparently that's how it was. It was when she was passed out, vulnerable even. That was when he realized something.
"Slim, is Curley's old man gonna can us now?" George asked, trying to hide the feeling of fear in his voice.
They hadn't even been there for a week. They couldn't afford to get canned with only ten bucks between them, not now.
"Hey, you hear me?" Slim called, trying to get Curley's attention. "Hey, you hear me?" he tried against, slapping the side of his face lightly.
Curley groaned in response, lazily turning his head back toward Slim.
"Now, I think you got your hand caught in a machine," Slim said seriously, daring Curley to try anything. "Now, if you don't tell nobody what happened, we ain't goin to," he told him. "But you just tell and try to get this guy canned…we're gonna tell everybody what really happened," he warned.
Slim knew for a fact what would happen if anyone were to find out what really happened and he'd be damned if he let the kid get away with it. He was still quietly pissed that Curley had hit Chris and the only reason he was willing to help Curley, was the fact that he didn't want no trouble for anyone.
"You got that?" Slim asked, watching as Curley gave a weak nod. "Good."
Curley held his hand as he laid there, attempting to look over at George.
"George, you take care of Chris," Slim told him, before turning to the others. "Jake, you and Whitt give me a hand," he said, carefully sliding his hand underneath Curley's shoulder, trying to get a grip on him.
George just stood there for a moment as he watched Jake grab Curley's other arm, helping lift him up as Whitt grabbed his legs, moving toward the door.
"Candy, get the door," Slim said quickly. "Watch it," he said, getting on the others to be careful. "Whitt, you go on into town with Carlson."
Lennie just sat there crying as everyone moved around, his head down in his hands. He felt terrible, scared and pained. That just left George with Chris in his arms, a faint groan escaping her lips after a moment. She still didn't say anything though as George fixed his grip on her, picking her up in his arms. Her head fell against his chest as he did this, his eyes going toward Lennie. George just didn't know what to do, he was still worried about Curley running his mouth and getting the two of them canned. He knew that Lennie didn't mean to hurt him, he was just doing what he had been told to do. So, in all reality, it was George's fault, not Lennie's. Although, it was Curley's fault too. If he hadn't gone after Lennie, then none of this would have ever happened.
"Lennie?" George called softly, turning to get the man's attention.
He just kept crying though, his head between his legs. It was as if he were traumatized.
George looked down at Chris one more time, before walking over and placing her down on her bed, being careful with her head. He hoped that she'd be alright, but he'd just have to wait and see.
"It'll be alright Lennie, it wasn't your fault," George whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
T
I had no clue how long I'd been out, all I knew, was that my head was killing me. It was pounding painfully, I felt sick to my stomach and when I looked around, I found myself alone in the bunk house.
"Slim?" I groaned, my eyes looking around the room, almost in a haze.
I looked over to where George and Lennie should have been, but they weren't there either. It was then that I remembered what had happened. Curley had come in, started picking a fight, then he'd gone after Lennie. I could remember all of it, even hitting my head against the metal frame of the bed. Although, I had no clue how I'd gotten on the bed, so I guessed that one of the guys had undoubtedly placed me there.
"Where is everyone?" I groaned out, slowly getting up from my bed.
I was left feeling dizzy as I stood there, steadying myself against the wall. It was still pitch black out, so it was obvious it was still late.
"George? Carlson?" I whispered, slowly pushing open the door and stepping outside.
The cool air hit my skin making me shiver, but felt good against my hot skin. It was then that I noticed a light on down in the wash house, pulling me toward it little by little. Someone was still here and I wanted to found out who.
"George?"
"Jesus, you look like hell."
It was George and Lennie. Lennie was seated on a bench, while George was on a stool, gently wiping at Lennie's bloody face. The poor guy looked terrible. As I got closer, I could see that his lip was busted, and his nose was bleeding. Blood stained his forehead and cheeks. I felt so sorry for him, but I kept my distance, watching quietly.
"Do I still get to tend the rabbits?" Lennie asked quietly, turning his head to look at George.
"Sure. You ain't done nothin wrong," George said softly, his voice as gentle as his touch as he dabbed the wet cloth lightly at Lennie's face.
"I didn't want…I didn't want no trouble," Lennie whispered, a tear falling from his eye.
More soon followed and before I knew it, tears were pouring from his eyes.
"It's all right," George cooed softly. "I know you didn't."
He was so gentle with Lennie that I felt something tug at my heart. I'd never seen someone like that be so gentle. It was like they were family and Lennie was a crying child, while George was a loving father trying to sooth a sobbing child. He was so gentle, so kind, he was different than any man I'd ever met. Sure, Slim was kind and could be like George, I was sure of that. There was just something about this guy though that caught me and pulled at my heart. It touched me in a way I wasn't sure I'd felt before.
"Come on. Be quiet so I can clean you up, okay?" George asked, putting on a small smile for his friend.
They were both something else, that for sure, something pure.
"It's okay," George whispered, gently wiping away the blood from his cheek.
I guess Lennie finally caught sight of me after a while though before George turning around, his eyes connecting with mine.
"Chris," he breathed, slowly standing up and walking toward me.
"Hey George," I smiled nervously.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah…my head just hurts," I whispered, touching the back of my head.
I winced when I did this though, regretting ever touching it. When I pulled it back though, my fingertips were coated in blood, red and sticky.
"Here, sit down," he said, ushering me over to the stool.
I sat down, my eyes trailing over to Lennie, before they went back to George.
"He'll be alright," George nodded as though sensing my unspoken question. "That reminds me…" he started, fully turning toward me now, an honest and sincere look upon his face. "Thank you…for standing up for him," he said.
I just smiled softly, looking between the two of them.
"You're welcome. Besides, I couldn't just sit by and let Curley beat the crap out of him…" I said quietly, rubbing my arm.
I just felt bad because I hadn't been able to do much. Lennie had still gotten hurt, even with my attempt to help him.
"It's more than anyone else has ever done," he told me, rinsing the small washcloth off and getting some fresh water.
"Well, he's a nice guy," I said, putting on a small smile as I looked over at Lennie.
His eyes lit up a bit at my words, hesitantly reaching out and grabbing the cuff of my shirt. He merely wanted some sort of comfort and I suppose holding onto my shirt did that. I didn't mind.
"It's alright Lennie," I smiled soft, gently patting his hand.
After a moment, George came back over, carefully touching the back of my head.
I bite my lip when he did this, making Lennie jump.
"Sorry," George whispered, tentatively parting my hair at the back.
Just like with Lennie, he was soft and gentle, being careful with what he was doing. His hands brushed my scalping, pushing the hair away, before dabbing at it lightly with the washcloth.
"Ow," I hissed, my eyes pinching together.
"Sorry."
"It's alright," I grimaced, leaning my head against my palm.
No matter how gentle, it was still painful, but at least he was gentle.
"Thank you, George," I whispered, closing my eyes.
"No, thank you," he said, giving my shoulder a faint squeeze. "Thank you…"
Alright, that was chapter 7. By far longer than any of the others and also why I cut the previous one short. I hope that everyone liked it? I'd really love to hear some feedback on this on. Anyway, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/ story. Thanks again everyone!