Пролетая над гнездом кукушки
Chapter 9
Everybodyturnsinhischairandwatchesthatbuttersneakondownthewall,starting,hangingstill,shootingaheadandleavingashinytrailbehinditonthepaint.Nobodysaysaword.Theylookatthebutter,thenattheclock,thenbackatthebutter.Theclock’smovingnow.
Thebuttermakesitdowntotheflooraboutahalfaminutebeforeseven-thirty,andMcMurphygetsbackallthemoneyhelost.
Theblackboywakesupandturnsawayfromthegreasystripeonthewallandsayswecango,andMcMurphywalksoutofthemesshall,foldinghismoneyinhispocket.Heputshisarmsaroundtheblackboy’sshouldersandhalfwalks,halfcarrieshim,downthehalltowardthedayroom."Theday’shalfgone,Sam,ofbuddy,an’I’mjustbarelybreakingeven.I’llhavetohustletocatchup.Howaboutbreakingoutthatdeckofcardsyougotlockedsecurelyinthatcabinet,andI’llseeifIcanmakemyselfheardoverthatloudspeaker."
Spendsmostofthatmorninghustlingtocatchupbydealingmoreblackjack,playingforIOUsnowinsteadofcigarettes.Hemovestheblackjacktabletwoorthreetimestotrytogetoutfromunderthespeaker.Youcantellit’sgettingonhisnerves.FinallyhegoestotheNurses’StationandrapsonapaneofglasstilltheBigNurseswivelsinherchairandopensthedoor,andheasksherhowaboutturningthatinfernalnoiseoffforawhile.She’scalmerthanevernow,backinherseatbehindherpaneofglass;there’snoheathenrunningaroundhalf-nakedtounbalanceher.Hersmileissettledandsolid.
