“He woulda took his pay an’ raised hell in a whore house, and he coulda set in a poolroom an’ played snooker.”
“But he got to take care of you.” Lennie moaned with grief.
“I know, Aunt Clara, ma’am. I’ll go right off in the hills an’ I’ll fin’ a cave an’ I’ll live there so I won’t be no more trouble to George.”
“You jus’ say that,” she said sharply. “You’re always sayin’ that, an’ you know sonofabitching well you ain’t never gonna do it.”
“You’ll jus’ stick around an’ stew the b’Jesus outa George all the time.”
Lennie said, “I might jus’ as well go away. George ain’t gonna let me tend no rabbits now.”
Aunt Clara was gone, and from out of Lennie’s head there came a gigantic rabbit.
It sat on its haunches in front of him, and it waggled its ears and crinkled its nose at him.
And it spoke in Lennie’s voice too. “Tend rabbits,” it said scornfully.
“You crazy bastard. You ain’t fit to lick the boots of no rabbit.”
“You’d forget ‘em and let ‘em go hungry. That’s what you’d do. An’ then what would George think?”
“I would not forget,” Lennie said loudly. “The hell you wouldn’,” said the rabbit.
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