Chapter 3--Part 4
I flipped the book open and read a page. It was a description of Curley’s wife with her hair in curls like “little sausages” and her “red mules with ostrich feathers.” Mrs. Joseph had tried to make us feel sorry for her ‘cause she was so young and lonely and Curley treated her like his possession. She didn’t even have her own name. She was just “Curley’s wife” through the whole book.
But I didn’t buy it. I didn’t feel sorry for her. She was a slut from the get-go, showing off her body for the hired hands. If it hadn’t been for her, maybe George and Lennie woulda gotten their farm. I was glad when Lennie broke her slutty neck. Julia claimed Curley’s wife was just as lonely and trapped as everyone else in the book, but it just made me hate her more because Julia was sticking up for her.
“What are you doing?!” Raylene’s voice startled me so much I dropped the book and almost knocked the plastic file holder off the corner of the desk.
“Nothing. I was just …”
“You’re not supposed to be reading in here. You’re supposed to be cleaning. We’ve got to get this whole floor done before 11.”
“I know. I was just . . . straightening up the desk. It was a mess.”
“You’re not supposed to touch anything on the teachers’ desks! I told you that. If you move something and they can’t find it, they’ll come yelling at me. Now finish up in here and get moving!”
“I’m already done.”
Raylene stomped out of the room. I had a vision of slamming into her with my cleaning cart. That’d knock her hair out of that bun and that look off her fat face. I grabbed the note I’d written about the gum under the desk and threw it in the recycling bin. What did I care if some stupid kid got gum on his pants? I just hoped it was some rich snot that got it. I tossed Of Mice and Men with all its little notes scribbled in the margins in there, too, under a couple of papers. Let the teacher go nuts looking for her marked-up copy. What did I care?
I pushed the cart into the hallway and headed toward my next room. Then I thought of Mrs. Joseph and how she’d feel if she couldn’t find her book.
“Oh, damn it all to hell,” I said. I ran back into the room I’d just left, dug the stupid book out of the recycling bin, and put it back on the stupid teacher’s desk.
I hate this stinking job.
But I didn’t buy it. I didn’t feel sorry for her. She was a slut from the get-go, showing off her body for the hired hands. If it hadn’t been for her, maybe George and Lennie woulda gotten their farm. I was glad when Lennie broke her slutty neck. Julia claimed Curley’s wife was just as lonely and trapped as everyone else in the book, but it just made me hate her more because Julia was sticking up for her.
“What are you doing?!” Raylene’s voice startled me so much I dropped the book and almost knocked the plastic file holder off the corner of the desk.
“Nothing. I was just …”
“You’re not supposed to be reading in here. You’re supposed to be cleaning. We’ve got to get this whole floor done before 11.”
“I know. I was just . . . straightening up the desk. It was a mess.”
“You’re not supposed to touch anything on the teachers’ desks! I told you that. If you move something and they can’t find it, they’ll come yelling at me. Now finish up in here and get moving!”
“I’m already done.”
Raylene stomped out of the room. I had a vision of slamming into her with my cleaning cart. That’d knock her hair out of that bun and that look off her fat face. I grabbed the note I’d written about the gum under the desk and threw it in the recycling bin. What did I care if some stupid kid got gum on his pants? I just hoped it was some rich snot that got it. I tossed Of Mice and Men with all its little notes scribbled in the margins in there, too, under a couple of papers. Let the teacher go nuts looking for her marked-up copy. What did I care?
I pushed the cart into the hallway and headed toward my next room. Then I thought of Mrs. Joseph and how she’d feel if she couldn’t find her book.
“Oh, damn it all to hell,” I said. I ran back into the room I’d just left, dug the stupid book out of the recycling bin, and put it back on the stupid teacher’s desk.
I hate this stinking job.
posted by Ellen Leigh Monde @ 1:12 PM
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