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Slim awoke with a start. Disoriented for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been roused from sleep at first- until he looked beside him. “George?”
Unlike Slim, the man in question appeared to be wide awake, sitting up against the headboard. He seemed terrified, body shaking from the effort to catch his breath. Slim noticed his hands, which were clutching the sheets tight- it reminded Slim of someone hanging off of a cliff edge, rather than sitting safely in bed. Slim understood immediately. Nightmare.
Slim sat up beside George, beginning to rub his shoulder, in an attempt to bring him back to the present. “Hey,” Slim said quietly, trying to shake the remnants of sleep out of his own mind. “You okay?”
It was a stupid question to ask, and Slim already knew the answer. But if it could do even the slightest bit to help George focus on Slim’s voice rather than his own suffocating thoughts, it was worth it.
George didn’t reply. His only response was a quick shake of the head.
Slim nodded, gently, calmly- if he maintained an air of calmness, some of it would eventually seep into George as well. “Take some deep breaths, George,” he said. “It’ll help, I promise.” There was a short pause. “You wanna tell me ‘bout it?” Sometimes that helped- it helped Slim for sure, on the rare occasions that he had an unpleasant dream he just couldn’t shake when he woke. Something about saying it out loud made it feel less real, more unbelievable. Helped a guy to rationalize it.
“I don’t- I don’t remember,” George gasped between breaths, and his brows furrowed. Slim suspected that wasn’t quite the truth, but he decided not to press the subject. It would be a topic for another time.
“That’s awright, George. Just keep on breathin’,” Slim said, continuing to assure him.
It was difficult to determine exactly what time it was, as the clock in the corner was obscured by shadows, but looking out the window, Slim couldn’t see even a hint of a sunrise. The night was still deep, and George’s eyes were twitching restlessly about the room. His breath wheezed on each inhale, and his hands were shaking- No, Slim suddenly realized. Only his right hand.
Taking in George’s condition, Slim made a decision, pushing down the covers and rising out of bed. “C’mon,” he said, helping George up.
“Where’re we goin’?” asked George unsteadily.
“Outside,” said Slim simply, gesturing for George to follow him downstairs.
It was a warm summer night, but Slim helped George into his coat anyway. If anything, it might help calm the shivers that still occasionally wracked his body. They settled on the open porch, on the rickety wooden bench that had clearly been at the ranch much longer than the two men. For some time there was silence between them, while the summer breeze gently rustled through the trees. The moon was waning, but the stars softly illuminated the fields and house.
George’s breathing gradually slowed, some of the tension in his body releasing. The night was peaceful, but Slim silently remarked- to himself, of course- that it felt more like the calm before a storm.
Slim offered his open palm to George, who allowed their fingers to intertwine. He gave them a light squeeze and leaned his head on Slim’s shoulder. Slim reached an arm around the smaller man, and began to gently stroke his hair.
“George?”
George simply hummed in response.
Slim tilted his head in order to see the other man properly. His next words were spoken softly, meant to ease into the conversation. “You want to talk now?”
Almost imperceptibly, George stiffened. “‘Bout what?” he said. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”
“Maybe these dreams you’ve been havin’,” Slim said. It wasn’t lost on him that George’s hand began to shake again. He tightened his grip.
“I don’t need to,” George sighed. “I know you- I know you hear me havin’ ‘em, all the time. You awready know what they’re about.”
Slim paused for a moment to consider this. “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I s’pose I just wonder why you’ve been havin’ so much trouble with them recently. I wonder what’s changed.”
Slim knew everyone had different ways of coping with loss, different ways of grieving. Some were better and some were worse- Slim had certainly seen his share over the years. Regardless, the process rarely came in predictable patterns. But George had seemed to be doing much better ever since they’d bought and fixed up the new ranch. Slim supposed it helped to be away from the place where it had happened, where resurfacing memories would appear around every corner. It had been nearly a year since they left the old ranch, but it was only a few weeks ago that some of George’s old issues had reappeared. Anxiety during the day, which caused the insomnia at night. When overcome, it only led to nightmares.
“It’s just-“ George started, unsure of exactly where he was headed. Slim had a way of making someone say what they needed to, sometimes when the guy himself didn’t even know what it was. “Sometimes I think I’m okay, an’ then somethin’ reminds me of it again.”
“Like what?” Slim said gently.
“Well… you know how me an’ him were, travelin’ together before Soledad. I mean, we were together twenty-four seven. Never got no privacy. I was always watchin’ him, an’ worryin’ about him, an’ takin’ care of him. Never got no peace. It weren’t his fault, of course. But-“ he broke off for a moment, hesitating. He fiddled with the sleeve of his brown jacket, wondering if he should keep speaking, sharing this thing that had been plaguing his mind for so long. Just one look at Slim’s kind, careful blue eyes was enough to convince him. Now that he’d started talking, it was difficult to stop himself. The words and emotions had already begun to spill out of his mouth.
“Well- sometimes I just realize… how damn easy I got it now. How if Lennie was here, this’d be- it’d all be so much harder. An’ it makes me feel so damn guilty about it, just thinkin’, I went an’ killed the guy, an’ now I’m- I’m happy, sometimes. Even though he’s dead.” George’s voice broke on the last word. He took a shuddering breath, but none of the moisture escaped his eyes. There was a pause, and then Slim spoke.
“That ain’t the way I see it, George,” Slim said softly. “Way I see it is, it’s done both of you good. I ain’t sayin’ what happened was a good thing in itself, not necessarily,” he added, seeing the appalled look that appeared on George’s face. “But you gotta think, he would’ve been strugglin’, too. With some of the same things as you, an’ some in a different way. But now both of you are okay.” Slim glanced at the smaller man, hoping to catch his eye, but his efforts were to no avail. Slim continued. “After all that, you deserve to be happy, an’ so does Lennie. An’ by now, you can be sure he is.”
A small, sad smile appeared on George’s face, but it seemed to glow under the moonlight. To Slim, it was a glimmer of hope. “Heaven, huh?” he said. “Never knew you were the religious type.”
Slim chuckled. “My mother was, for sure. Don’t know if I’d consider myself one. I don’t think I ever understood what they were sayin’, really- not fully, at least. But whether or not you think there’s an afterlife, at least one thing’s for certain,” he said. “Ain’t no way he’s in any pain now.”
George’s expression had gone stiff and unreadable once more. Given no reply, Slim pushed on. “Thing is, George, you ain’t givin’ yourself no time to move on. You been replayin’ that moment in your head like it’s been happenin’ over an’ over again, every day since, but that ain’t true. It’s over and done with. You can’t change the fact it happened, but you can try to come to terms with it.” Slim looked up, squinting at the bright moon above the trees. After a minute, he returned his gaze to his partner. “I don’t think what you done was a bad thing, George. I think you done more for Lennie than you’ll ever realize.”
George didn’t answer. His voice was shaky, vision blurred with water, though he continued to look straight ahead. He ignored the tears he knew must be trailing down his cheek.
“That don’t make it no less hard.”
“I know,” Slim said softly, as he wiped the tears from George’s face. “I know.” He silently wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders in an embrace, lulling him into a dreamless sleep.
By now, only the crickets chirping in the woods were awake to keep Slim company, but he didn’t mind. George’s body beside him was warm, and Slim was comfortable. Both of them would likely wake up with a crick in their neck the next morning and aching backs from the wooden bench, but in that moment, Slim couldn’t bring himself to care. He gazed mindlessly at the moon, until his eyelids grew heavy, and finally closed. After everything, it was still a peaceful night.
This wouldn’t be the end of it, for sure. Nobody in the world could get over the death of a childhood best friend with just the snap of a finger, Slim thought, regardless of how it happened. Lennie had seemed like even more to George than that, sometimes. Maybe he’d amuse George with his antics, like a younger brother would, or George would give him cautious warnings, like a father. But Slim also knew George was resilient, and he admired him for it. It wouldn’t be the last nightmare. There would be more, along with sleepless nights, and guilt that felt endless. But Slim would always be there for George to lean on- physically and metaphorically. And he knew for certain that George would do exactly the same for him. For now, they had each other, and they could make it through, one moment at a time.