Disclaimer: Of Mice and Men was written by, and all characters were created by John Steinbeck. I do not own them, nor make any claim to them. I'm just borrowing them for a moment.
Author's notes: This is a short scene that takes place just before the last chapter in the book.
The Only Way
By
Eric Jay Benner
A light breeze blew through the tall grass of the Salinas River Valley, causing it to rustle and whip from side to side. The sun was beginning to recede in the late afternoon sky, casting a cool shade down on the valley. The sycamores along the water's edge also rustled with the wind, and deposited a few brown leaves into the calm water, causing little waves to ripple through the smooth surface. The sound of voices could be heard in the air, and the cool breeze stopped as suddenly as it had started.
A small group of men crested one of the many small hills, and began the descent into the valley. There were four of them, coming from the north, and one of the men lagged behind the other three. His hat was pulled down over his eyes, and he looked only at the ground, as though his slow, dragging steps had become a kind of hypnotic dance.
The other men were anxious, as though a great prize waited for them in the dense brush beside the river pool. They resembled a pack of bloodhounds stalking prey, and Curley led the pack, gingerly supporting his shotgun with his crushed hand. "Gonna get that big sonavabitch." He said coldly. "He can't be much farther." The other men grunted their agreement. George was silent.
"You still back there, George?" Carlson called over his shoulder. The other men stopped and turned.
"Yeah…Still here." George said weakly.
"Well, we went the way you told us ta come, and there's no sign of the big bastard." Curley growled. "I swear to Christ, if yer protecting 'im…"
"No!" George shouted suddenly. "I mean…it's awright. I know Lennie. Know him better than anyone else. I can find him."
"Maybe George should go ahead a little bit." Slim spoke up. Curley shot him a look that was all daggers. "To calm Lennie down a bit. If he's got Carlson's Luger, who knows what he might be capable of." Slim finished, looking at George in an odd way. George didn't seem to notice, but nodded.
"Yeah. I could do that…to calm him down." He said quietly.
"I'm not sure I trust 'im any more'in I trust that big lug!" Curley exploded. "What if he decides to help 'im escape? What then?"
"I won't." George broke in. "Trust me."
"Well, I don't." Curley scoffed. "But go ahead." He looked at George suspiciously then. "And I wouldn't try 'nothin if I was you." He said darkly. "Cause helping the bastard escape is just as bad as helpin' him in the act if ya ask me." He finished, cocking the shotgun with his good hand.
George said nothing and strode to the front of the group. The others eyed him for a minute, and then turned away as George started down the hill. "It's O.K. George." Slim spoke up behind him suddenly. George jumped slightly and turned to look at the taller man. "I know this is hard…but it's the only way." He placed a hand on George's shoulder, and George brushed it away.
"I know. I'll be fine." He said shortly. He continued down the hill, and Slim watched him as he disappeared into the brush.
*******
George pushed his way through the brush as silently as he could. Somehow, he knew Lennie would remember the place he was supposed to go. The little clearing where all this had begun. He supposed he had known all along that everything was going to go to hell. It had been a gut feeling that night. A wave of horrible premonition that he had never felt before. Sitting there on the bank, telling Lennie about the rabbits, he had sensed the approaching danger…had sensed that life for them would never be the same after that peaceful evening.
George put his hand in his pocket, and felt the cold weight of Carlson's Lugar. It has to be this way. He thought. He's gone to far. We can't run away from this. George knew Lennie had not killed Curley's wife intentionally. He never killed anything intentionally. He just didn't know his own strength. That cold bitch! Why couldn't she just leave well enough alone? I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her. She was too much like the girl from Weed. And Lennie just…He just…Likes to touch pretty things. It's not his fault. He's nuts. Like an overgrown kid.
George felt the muzzle of the gun, and shuddered. Oh Christ Lennie! Why the hell did you have to be so dumb? Why couldn't you just be normal, like everyone else? Suddenly, George heard Lennie's panicked cries, and hurried ahead to the clearing.
Lennie was there, just like George had told him. He was sitting on the ground, his back to George, having a conversation with no one. George had caught him doing this many times before, but never questioned him about it. Lennie never seamed to know what he was talking about, so he let this behavior slide.
George waited, concealed in the brush. He was shaking violently, and tried to calm himself. The last thing he needed was to frighten Lennie.
(It's the only way, George…)
Slim's voice echoed in his head. Yes. George thought, stepping into the clearing. The only way…
