A few miles south of Soledad. Silence, nothing but silence. River is still running and the sunlight is still there lying out there on sand, but it is just silence.

The big guy sleeps there. It could've been even more beautiful if he is actually just sleeping.

"George?"

"Hm."

"It ain't ya fault." Says Slim.

"I know." George responds, not even with a head up.

It is usually warmer in the bar, but not today. Cold, the air in the bar is colder than anywhere else. George's hand shakes a little.

Next morning, George is packing his bag. Silently in the bunk house, it is so quite that you can hear the sound of him putting canned beans into the bag, the shaking of the beans and liquid inside, and still, no ketchup.

"But I, I, we! We still can afford that place...... " Candy's voice is shaking. 

George does not give a head up. Another can of beans.

"We, we are gonna get the little place, with alfalfa and some chicks. Ain't nobody gonna bother us. We, we can still make it, George?" Quite a silence. "We gonna have the bunny rabbits......"

"We ain't gonna have no bunny rabbits," George pauses, both the words and the movement, "no one need them now."

"And we ain't got no house, no alfalfa, no little peace of land!" He finally turns his face up, the eyes are visibly sore. He holds his bag for a moment, and drops it, starts walking out.

"Not getting no better?"

"Hm."

Slims voice seems to be far away, but it does fill the blank place, inside of George.

Two men, traveling toward the direction of the sun, together.