Chapter 1

Guys like us, that work on ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don’t belong no place.

The red light dimmed on the coals.

Slowly, like a terrier who doesn’t want to bring a ball to its master, Lennie approached, drew back, approached again.

The water is warm too, for it has slipped twinkling over the yellow sands in the sunlight before reaching the narrow pool.

A few miles south of Soledad, the Salinas River drops in close to the hillside bank and runs deep and green.

You’d drink out of a gutter if you was thirsty.

Hide in the brush till I come for you.

“I forgot,” Lennie said softly. “I tried not to forget. Honest to God I did, George.”

“Poor bastard,” he said softly, and then went on whistling again.

I wasn’t doin’ nothing bad with it, George. Jus’ strokin’ it.