Alexis Gero

Sonneville English-5
11/4/14
Of Mice and Men Narrative Summative Essay
Uncovering the Past
Anne sat benignly at the foot of the chair, her fingers deliberately navigating through
the ball of string in her lap. On her feet rested Baxter, Candys old dog, his tongue lolling
lazily from his drooling mouth. The girls amber, wavy hair flowed like silk, and her
mothers high, aristocratic cheekbones arched cautiously across her young face. A dainty,
pink mouth, small as a raspberry, sat below her fathers long, sharp nose.
In the distance, there came the slam of a door and the stomp of boots. Anne jumped
up, startling Baxter from his nap, and ran in the direction of the sound. When she reached her
father, she grasped his large hand in her delicate ones.
Daddy, Daddy! Youre home! she cried, jumping up and down, How was the
ranch today?
The ranch was jus fine, thanks Annie.
George? cried Annes mother from the kitchen. She rushed into the narrow hallway
and immediately helped him remove his coat, pecking him on the cheek as she did.
Has the frost worn off? she inquired as the procession gradually flowed towards the
living room
Yeah, Susanna, its gon now, George replied wearily. In the doorway from the
kitchen, there came a dark figure with sleepy eyes and tangled hair, large boots only half on
his feet.
Uncle Candy, Daddys home! Anne said excitedly, staring up at the slumped man
reverently. Baxter had followed him over and sat sniffing his ankles.
Thats lovely darlin, he smiled, bemused. Slowly, he walked towards a puffy chair
in the corner and collapsed, still half-asleep.
Well, I gotta go get the rest of the crops. Tiny lot today, so its only gonna be beets
tonight, George sighed turning towards the door. Anne groaned inwardly at the thought of
the juicy, purple vegetables, but knew better than to say anything.
Let me help dear, Susanna rushed, quickly following him.
Nah, I got it. You go boil the water.

Candy glanced up from his recumbent position in the corner, and as soon as George
was out of earshot, he murmured, Man, hes working as hard as ol Lennie now. Susanna
nodded sadly and turned towards the kitchen.
Momma, whos old Lennie? Anne asked curiously. Susanna whipped around and
exchanged a panicked glance with Candy, who now sat up alert, eyes close to wild.
Nobody you have to worry about, sweetheart, Susanna replied soothingly, brushing
her hands across Annes waves robotically. Then she returned to the kitchen, and Candy
slumped back in his chair.
Uncle Candy, who is old Lennie?
Listen to your mother. No one you gotta know about, he mumbled, promptly
placing a rumpled hat above his eyes and stretching his legs across the worn carpet. Anne sat
confused, her brow furrowed in curiosity. She had never heard of an old Lennie before, and
Father always told her about all the other workers. Anne fantasized herself as a detective,
going through the clues to solve a buried mystery. Why had Mother looked so frightened,
and Uncle Candy had been so clandestine? Well, she reasoned, Ill just ask Daddy when he
gets back.
Smiling, she scooted on her butt to where Baxter rested and began scratching behind
his ears until his tail thumped happily against the floor. Anne lay down, rested her head
against the dogs warm chest, and quickly fell asleep.
When she awoke, Anne could smell the beets cooking and hear her mother and father
talking in the kitchen. Standing dizzily, she crept onto the warm tiled floor. George slumped
at the small wooden table, a newspaper spread before him, while Susanna stood at the stove,
stirring the vegetables in a pot.
George, I need to grab some salt from the barn, so please watch the beets, Susanna
said, wiping her hands on her apron.
All right, he sighed, not moving an inch. As soon as Susanna left, Anne ambled
carefully towards her father.
Hey Daddy, do ya know old Lennie? she asked, glancing up shyly from beneath her
hair that hung like a crown around her tilted head.
George folded the paper slowly, and sat upright, his face rigid.
Whodya jus say?
Old Lennie? Anne replied, even more timid.
I dont want to talk about it, he growled irate, his eyes daring her to say more.

But Daddy, I wanna know! Anne said, inanely glaring at him head on now.
Goddamit Anne, I said, I dont want to talk about it! he yelled, shoving his chair
against the wall with a boom and stomping towards the bedroom. A door slammed, and Anne
stood in the kitchen alone, staring at her feet, oblivious to whatever harm she had caused.
Susanna reentered the kitchen, whistling softly, a bag of salt at her hip. The pot of beets was
about to bubble over, and steam coated the nearby tiles.
Oh my- Anne where is your father? she cried, rushing to take the pot off the fire.
In your bedroom, she said obediently, Hes all mad over nothin. I jus askn him
who old Lennie is. Susanna abruptly turned to stare at Anne in shock before racing towards
the bedroom. As soon as Anne heard the door click shut, there came sniffles, and short,
exasperated cries, like a lone wolf crying to the moon. She remembered the last time Daddy
had been this mad, the house shook with his earthquake screams. He had even hit Susanna,
so that there was a large purple, yellow bruise that spread across her porcelain face. Anne
shivered at the memory of hiding in her makeshift shelter under the bed that inky night.
Erasing the images from her mind, Anne sat down on the floor, unaware yet devastated at
what she had set in motion.
Old Lennie? she asked, looking upwards towards the ceiling, tears beginning to
streak down her flushed cheeks, If you is really real, couldya help Daddy feel better?
Because I done a bad thing Lennie, I done a bad thing. Sighing, Anne turned to rest her head
on the floor, still not completely awake after her last nap. After a half hour, she heard her
parents return but pretended to be asleep.
Annie girl? George whispered, I gonna tell you a story now. And its gonna be a
lil scary, and a lil sad, but you gotta trust Daddy okay?
Mkay Daddy. I can do that, Anne said softly, sitting up on the floor, her legs
crossed. She stared up at her fathers blotchy, red face, still shiny with tears, wondering what
old Lennie had ever done to cause such pain.
Well then lets go, he said, reaching out for her hand, which she grasped tightly as
George led her into the barren living room, leaving behind the beets, to learn the cold, hard
truth. George knew she would be scared and nervous, but she had to know. She had to know
not to make the same mistakes.