Lennie was supposed to be getting firewood. He wasn't. He was currently searching for his mouse that George had thrown away across the pond. He supposed George had been right that it had to be thrown away but he wanted to pet the mouse. It was so soft and it didn't try to bite him anymore. George said that was because it was dead. Lennie supposed that made sense, besides George was always right. Lennie stumbles over a small dip in the ground just in time to trip into a tree root that had risen up from the ground. He fell and swore loudly as he picked himself up. After the first loud exclamation of annoyance, Lennie remembered that he had to be silent, what if George came looking for him, and got mad at him for looking for his mouse instead of picking up wood for a fire as George had asked. George might be so mad he would not let Lennie tend the rabbits! That couldn't happen, so quiet he would have to be. He switched to mumbling his curses under his breath as he continued to pick his way to where the river was. The mouse was on the other side. Lennie rolled up his pants and took off his shoes, feeling proud at his sneaking, George would never suspect now! Once he was across the river he pulled back on his shoes and rolled down his pants. He then set about looking for his mouse, he could almost feel the softness of the fur under his hands. Soft and furry and warm from his pocket and soothing. If he had the mouse he could be good, and he and George would work and collect their money, and then they would buy that land and have their rabbits and live off the fat of the land. Lennie could hardly wait. He couldn't see well in the darkness and so he got onto his hands and knees and started feeling along like what he imagined a mole would do. Lennie wondered if moles were soft and furry like mice and rabbits. Maybe he could ask George when he got back. Under his hand, Lennie suddenly felt something soft. It squeaked before making a sound of pain that quickly went silent. And still, it had been moving around before as Lennie put his hand on top of it. George would probably say it was dead as well like he said Lennie's mouse was. It wasn't his mouse though. Lennie still picked it up and placed it into his pocket before moving on. If he couldn't find his mouse Lennie supposed this one would work just as well, and if George figures out that Lennie had one mouse he might not suspect that Lennie had not one but two mice. It would work perfectly, Lennie thought happily as he continued to crawl along the riverbank. Lennie continued to search until he ran into a tree that had somehow popped up in front of Lennie. Lennie sat up and rubbed his head softly, confused.


Lennie decided that perhaps this might be a good time to head back, he didn't want to run into any more trees. Or a prickle bush. How would he ever explain the thorns to George? George could never suspect that Lennie hadn't been spending all this time doing anything more than looking for firewood. If he did he would ask Lennie to give up his new mouse. Suddenly Lennie jolted as a thought hit him, what if George already suspected because George was so smart and knew so much. What if by taking so long to do what George had asked him to do- look for firewood- lead to making George suspicious about Lennie. Lennie had to hurry then. He could spend no more time looking for his mouse, not when he had another one, and George may be getting suspicious about Lennie getting his mouse instead of kindling! Lennie stood up with purpose and made his way back along the river bank. In his haste, he forgot to take off his shoes and roll up his pants as he crossed the river. Lennie only remembered that he was supposed to have been gathering kindling and firewood just before he burst into the camp that George had set up. Wildly he looked around looking for anything that he could pick up. He needed something or George would take away his new mouse as well! Finally, his eyes caught on a small piece of wood lying on the ground. Quickly he stopped and picked it up. He paused and rubbed the mouse in his pocket quickly, smiling at how soft and nice it was, even if it was slightly squashed. Then he stepped into the clearing. Hopefully, George would not figure out that Lennie had found another mouse, or that Lennie hadn't been looking for firewood like he was supposed to. He didn't want to disappoint George, George had always been nice to him and was going to let him tend rabbits when they got their farm. Lennie smiles again as George looks up at his reappearance in the camp. He holds out his price of wood as an offering.

A/N: This is a piece of work from my AP Lang course. The ending is weird because I could not find a good way to end it.