“Just come,” said George.
“Gonna buck barley?”
“That’s what the boss says.”
Slim sat down on a box across the table from
George. He studied the solitaire hand that was upside down to him. “Hope you get on my team,” he said. His voice was very gentle. “I gotta pair of punks on my team that don’t know a barley bag from a blue ball. You guys ever bucked any barley?”
“Hell, yes,” said George. “I ain’t nothing to scream about, but that big bastard there can put up more grain alone than most pairs can.”
Lennie, who had been following the conversation back and forth with his eyes, smiled complacency at the compliment. Slim looked approvingly at George for having given the compliment. He leaned over the table and snapped the corner of a loose card. “You guys travel around together?” His tone was friendly. It invited confidence without demanding it.
“Sure,” said George. “We kinda look after each other.” He indicated Lennie with his thumb. “He ain’t bright. Hell of a good worker, though. Hell of a nice fella, but he ain’t bright. I’ve knew him for a long time.”
Slim looked through George and beyond him. “Ain’t many guys travel around together,” he mused. “I don’t know why. Maybe ever’body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.”
“It’s a lot nicer to go around with a guy you know,” said George.
A powerful, big-stomached man came into the bunk house. His head still dripped water from the scrubbing and dousing. “Hi, Slim,” he said, and then stopped and stared at George and Lennie.
“These guys jus’ come,” said Slim by way of introduction.
“Glad to meet ya,” the big man said. “My name’s Carlson.”
“I’m George Milton. This here’s Lennie Small.”
“Glad to meet ya,” Carlson said again. “He ain’t very small.” He chuckled softly at his joke. “Ain’t small at all,” he repeated. “Meant to ask you, Slim-how’s your bitch? I seen she wasn’t under your wagon this morning.”
“She slang her pups last night,” said Slim. “Nine of ’em. I drowned four of ’em right off. She couldn’t feed that many.”
“Got five left, huh?”
“Yeah, five. I kept the biggest”
“What kinda dogs you think they’re gonna be?”
“I dunno,” said Slim. “Some kinda shepherds, I guess. That’s the most kind I seen around here when she was in heat.”
Carlson went on, “Got five pups, huh. Gonna keep all of ’em?”
“I dunno. Have to keep ’em a while so they can drink Lulu’s milk.”
Carlson said thoughtfully, “Well, looka here, Slim. I been thinkin’. That dog of Candy’s is so God damn old he can’t hardly walk. Stinks like hell, too. Ever’ time he comes into the bunk house I can smell him for two, three days. Why’n’t you get Candy to shoot his old dog and give him one of the pups to raise up? I can smell that dog a mile away. Got no teeth, damn near blind, can’t eat. Candy feeds him milk. He can’t chew nothing else.”
George had been staring intently at Slim. Suddenly a triangle began to ring outside, slowly at first and then faster and faster until the beat of it disappeared into one ringing sound. It stopped as suddenly as it had started.
“There she goes,” said Carlson.
Outside, there was a burst of voices as a group of men went by.
Slim stood up slowly and with dignity. “You guys better come on while they’s still something to eat. Won’t be nothing left in a couple of minutes.”
Carlson stepped back to let Slim precede him, an then the two of them went out the door.
Lennie was watching George excitedly. George rumpled his cards into a messy pile. “Yeah!” George said, “I heard him, Lennie. I’ll ask him.”
“A brown and white one,” Lennie cried excitedly.
“Come on. Le’s get dinner. I don’t know whether he got a brown and white one.”
Lennie didn’t move from his bunk. “You ask him right away, George, so he won’t kill no more of em.”
“Sure. Come on now, get up on your feet.”
Lennie rolled off his bunk and stood up, and the two of them started for the door. Just as they reached it, Curley bounced in.
“You seen a girl around here?” he demanded angrily.
George said coldly. “‘Bout half an hour ago maybe.”
“Well what the hell was she doin’?”
George stood still, watching the angry little man. He said insultingly, “She said–she was lookin’ for you.”
Curley seemed really to see George for the first time. His eyes flashed over George, took in his height, measured his reach, looked at his trim middle. “Well, which way’d she go?” he demanded at last.
“I dunno,” said George. “I didn’ watch her go.”
Curley scowled at him, and turning, hurried out the door.
George said, “Ya know, Lennie, I’m scared I’m gonna tangle with that bastard myself. I hate his guts. Jesus Christ! Come on. They won’t be a damn thing left to eat.”
They went out the door. The sunshine lay in a thin line under the window. From a distance there could be heard a rattle of dishes.
After a moment the ancient dog walked lamely in through the open door. He gazed about with mild, half-blind eyes. He sniffed, and then lay down and put his head between his paws. Curley popped into the doorway again and stood looking into the room. The dog raised his head, but when Curley jerked out, the grizzled head sank to the floor again.
CHAPTER 3
ALTHOUGH there was evening brightness showing through the windows of the bunk house, inside it was dusk. Through the open door came the thuds and occasional clangs of a horseshoe game, and now and then the sound of voices raised in approval or derision.
Slim and George came into the darkening bunk house together. Slim reached up over the card table and turned on the tin-shaded electric light. Instantly the table was brilliant with light, and the cone of the shade threw its brightness straight downward, leaving the corners of the bunk house still in dusk. Slim sat down on a box and George took his place opposite.
“It wasn’t nothing,” said Slim. “I would of had to drowned most of ’em anyways. No need to thank me about that.”
George said, “It wasn’t much to you, maybe, but it was a hell of a lot to him. Jesus Christ, I don’t know how we’re gonna get him to sleep in here. He’ll want to sleep right out in the barn with ’em. We’ll have trouble keepin’ him from getting right in the box with them pups.”
“It wasn’t nothing,” Slim repeated. “Say, you sure was right about him. Maybe he ain’t bright, but I never seen such a worker. He damn near killed his partner buckin’ barley. There ain’t nobody can keep up with him. God awmighty I never seen such a strong guy.”
George spoke proudly. “Jus’ tell Lennie what to do an’ he’ll do it if it don’t take no figuring. He can’t think of nothing to do himself, but he sure can take orders.”
There was a clang of horseshoe on iron stake outside and a little cheer of voices.
Slim moved back slightly so the light was not on his face. “Funny how you an’ him string along together.” It was Slim’s calm invitation to confidence.
“What’s funny about it?” George demanded defensively.
“Oh, I dunno. Hardly none of the guys ever travel together. I hardly never seen two guys travel together. You know how the hands are, they just come in and get their bunk and work a month, and then they quit and go out alone. Never seem to give a damn about nobody. It jus’ seems kinda funny a cuckoo like him and a smart little guy like you travelin’ together.”
“He ain’t no cuckoo,” said George. “He’s dumb as hell, but he ain’t crazy. An’ I ain’t so bright neither, or I wouldn’t be buckin’ barley for my fifty and found. If I was bright, if I was even a little bit smart, I’d have my own little place, an’ I’d be bringin’ in my own crops, ‘stead of doin’ all the work and not getting what comes up outa the ground.” George fell silent. He wanted to talk. Slim neither encouraged nor discouraged him. He just sat back quiet and receptive.
“It ain’t so funny, him an’ me goin’ aroun’ together,” George said at last. “Him and me was both born in Auburn. I knowed his Aunt Clara. She took him when he was a baby and raised him up. When his Aunt Clara died, Lennie just come along with me out workin’. Got kinda used to each other after a little while.”
“Umm,” said Slim.
George looked over at Slim and saw the calm, Godlike eyes fastened on him. “Funny,” said George. “I used to have a hell of a lot of fun with ‘im. Used to play jokes on ‘im ’cause he was too dumb to take care of ‘imself. But he was too dumb even to know he had a joke played on him. I had fun. Made me seem God damn smart alongside of him. Why he’d do any damn thing I tol’ hits. If I tol’ him to walk over a cliff, over he’d go. That wasn’t so damn much fun after a while. He never got mad about it, neither. I’ve beat the hell outa him, and he coulda bust every bone in my body jus’ with his han’s, but he never lifted a finger against me.” George’s voice was taking on the tone of confession. “Tell you what made me stop that. One day a bunch of guys was standin’ around up on the Sacramento River. I was feelin’ pretty smart. I turns to Lennie and says, ‘Jump in.’ An’ he jumps. Couldn’t swim a stroke. He damn near drowned before we could get him. An’ he was so damn nice to me for pullin’ him out. Clean forgot I told him to jump in. Well, I ain’t done nothing like that no more.”