Alternative Ending

Orange streaks were etched into the sky. Sparrows called to each other within the brush and thrushes swooped low in the sky; their silhouettes dark against the setting sun. A brook flowed through a small clearing of the brush, the water splashing over small rocks jutting out from the crystalline surface. Translucent drops flying through the air.

A rustling sound came from the bushes as a muddy boot protruded the greenery then came the buzz of contained excitement as five men marched into the clearing. Leading the entire parade was Curley. Rifle swung over his shoulder.

“Where’d that bastard go?” Curley’s voice was loud and it interrupted the peace of the valley. But was met with silence. Even the birds had fled. And the creek seemed to have muffled its gurgling voice.

George was the last of the procession. His feet dragging in the dirt, shoulders slumped, leaving his head hanging. Glaring towards the ground. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He seemed capable only to mutter over and over, “ Lennie, ya son of a bitch, I said no trouble. No goddamn trouble if ya want those bloody rabbits… ya son of a bitch.”

The march continued on with low whines from Carlson about his gun until Curley said, “George, ya better know where that bastard be goin’. I ain’t seen no one walk this far.”

George said, “ He be goin’ ‘round here. He ain’t know no other way.”

Slim turned back to look at George. His gaze scrutinizing before he spoke up, “ Curley this ain’t gotta be possible. Ya go with Carlson n Whitt. Go walk back n look under bushes. That son of a bitch gotta be hiding. Me n George’ll walk on. I’ll stay with ‘im. Ya go n find the guy.”

“Don’ let George go… n ill find me that bastard. Shoot his guts out, ” was all Curley said. Then he vanished into the brush. Walking back. His footsteps heavy. Whit and Carlson followed for what Slim said was law.

Only then did Slim look at George. His head and risen and a look had come into his eyes. His posture was no longer slouched, he’d straightened his back and his gaze was focused on Slim; awaiting an explanation. The large man only smiled and continued walking. His pace considerably quickened.

After the two men reached the larger clearing slim skidded to a stop. His heavy, work boots arising a cloud of dust. George finally mustered his voice and said, “Why’d ya do that.  You ain’t gettin’ nothin’.”

“That bastard ain’t mean to do it. He ain’t.” Slim’s eyes grew suspiciously moist but his head turned. “George.. you’re a good fella, take ‘im. Take ‘im away n make your choice. If ya ain’t back ill tell ‘em ya quit. Couldn’t stand it.” With that and a nod of his head, Slim was gone.

George looked after him with a lingering glance before turning towards the path. He was almost there. Almost at the clearing he had promised to meet Lennie. He would be there in a good quarter of an hour, and then they could decide. Suddenly he noticed the last rays of the sun glowing on his face and he hurried on his way; before the sun completely disappeared in the darkening sky.