The Golden Gloves | Teen Ink

The Golden Gloves

June 6, 2022
By Sruthi_11 SILVER, Somerset, New Jersey
Sruthi_11 SILVER, Somerset, New Jersey
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Curley unclipped the crinkled newspaper clipping. He set the glossy paperclip on the burlap ticking, and stared at the faded image. A strong man with bulging muscles and a blinding grin was proudly holding a trophy with a golden glove. Underneath, the caption read:

“Arnold Hopkins, a farmer from Soledad, California, wins the title of “Golden Glove Boxer of 1919”.

As Curley skimmed over the info for this year’s competition, he came upon a ledger with the names entered for this year:

“Emanuel Jennings

Curley Softhand

Jeff Jones

William Tenner

Whitman Looserfield

Nico Williams

Jade Tiger

Blade Jones”


With a sudden conviction, Curley tucked the clipping into his pocket, and walked out the bunkhouse door. 

 

————


“Hello there. I’m Curley Softhand and I would like to inquire about the Golden Glove tournament coming up.”

A lady in a blue checkered dress, adorned with metallic buttons looked up from her typewriter. “Sir, it seems you are already entered in the competition.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but my friend here would also like to participate.” Next to Curley, Lennie was a giant. He smiled nervously at the lady, carefully eyeing her soft dress.

Curley nudged Lennie. “Ye-Yes Ma’am, ma name is Lennie Small, and I would li-like to enter.”

The old woman looked up at the towering giant. “Sure, son. Make sure to arrive at four A.M. tomorrow at the building to your right. You’ll find where you need to go.”

Curley stepped forward. “Thank you, Ma’am. You have a good day now.”

Curley nearly dragged Lennie out the door, and shoved him into the truck.

“You better not tell anyone, or else.”


———


Lennie sauntered into the bunkhouse, and on to his bunk. George looked up from his cards inquisitively. 

“What’sa matter Lennie?” Lennie didn’t answer. Instead, he shot a quick glance at George and rolled over to face the wall. 

“I can’t say nothin’,” Lennie said in a quiet voice.

“Lennie, if ya don’t wanna tell me then I guess I’ll tell Slim not to give you any puppies.” 

“No George I’m bein’ honest here it’s nothing too bad I just have to fight Curley and a bunch a other guys tomorrow.”

“Are you serious? I told you not to mess aroun’ with that bozo.”

“No it wasn’t me George it was Curley. He walked up to a pretty ol’ woman and tol’ her that I was gonna fight in the Golden Gloves tomorrow. Honest.”

Suddenly, George stood up from the wooden stool, and stormed out of the bunkhouse, muttering angrily to himself. 

“What have I done…..,” Lennie whispered. 


—----


George pounded on the Curley’s door. “Curley you come out here right now!”

The wooden door slowly creaked open. “What’sa matter, George?” Curley eyed George with a disgusted look. 

“How dare you sign up Lennie for the Golden Gloves tomorrow! You know how he is!”

“How so, George?” 

In a quick stride George pulled out his knife and drew it inches away from Curley’s soft neck. “You better tell me what you’re up to unless you never wanna see another day again.”

Curley eyed the knife, and paled. “George, let’s be calm here. This must be a misunderstanding.”

“How so?”

“Ya see, Lennie told me the other day that he wanna fight. I tell him, ‘the Golden Gloves is comin’ up, you should join’. So he goes to the place in town and signs up. But he tells me: ‘if you tell George about this…I will crack your neck like it’s a twig’. So I keep my mouth shut. Now he’s puttin’ all the blame on me!”

George eyed Curley suspiciously. He slowly drew back his knife, turned back, and walked away. 


—----

The next day, as the sun rose above the soft pink hills, Curley crept over to the bunkhouse. In his hand, he carried a Luger. The workers were fast asleep, but Curley knew they would soon be up. Without wasting any time, he aimed the cold metal barrel of the gun at Lennie’s forehead. He inched closer. His finger, resting on the trigger, pulled back ever so slightly. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Slim walked into the bunkhouse. 

“What in the world, Curley?”

“Oh, Slim……I’m sorry you had to see this.” Curley pulled back the trigger, and a loud, echoing shot rang out across the ranch. 

In shock, Slim fell dead. 


The author's comments:

This scene is an inspired version from "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinbeck, capturing the tension between two important characters, Lennie and Curley. 


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