Mice

hate being a ******. I hate it so damn much. I wish I could just go one day without some white person saying something mean to me; it’s like they haven’t got anything better to do.

Not all white people are bad though. Take that Lennie fellow for example. He came into my shed today; just wanted to talk since all the others went and left him behind. He’s a bit of a loner, like me. I think that’s why I like him. I also like how he doesn’t care that I’m black. It’s strange, but in a good way. I like Candy too. He doesn’t treat me differently for being black either. Maybe it’s because he gets left out too.

When Lennie came in, I was busy putting ointment on my shoulder. Even though it hurt, I was thankful for it; it gave me a job. I’d never had a visitor before, so when he wanted to come and talk I tried sending him away.

“I ain’t wanted in the bunkhouse, and you ain’t wanted in my room,” I said. I didn’t want any white men in my room. They’d just tell me what to do and be mean to me. And I get enough hell in the day.

And do you know what he said? He said, “Why ain’t you wanted?” Why ain’t I wanted? He just needed to look at me to see.

“’Cause I’m black,” I said. He then said everyone had gone to town and left him, and that he just wanted to come in and sit down. But I wasn’t having none of that. I told him again that he wasn’t wanted and that he should go and see his pup, though he isn’t doing it any good taking it out and petting it. I told him so too.

I was just about to send him off again but then he smiled and I couldn’t bring myself to. There was something vulnerable about him. “Come on in and set a while,” I said. I tried to be friendly since I knew I wasn’t going to get rid of him now. I asked about the boys going out.

“All but old Candy,” he replied. Then he said something about Candy figuring about “the rabbits”. Turns out this George person had been filling his head up with lies about getting some place of their own. I told him it wasn’t true but he...