Пролетая над гнездом кукушки
Chapter 9
Ifthat’sdecided—Iseemtohaveforgottenwhatwewereplanningtotalkaboutthismorning?"
Thenurse’sheadgivesthatonelittlejerkagain,andshebendsoverherbasket,picksupafolio.Shefumbleswiththepapers,anditlookslikeherhandsareshaking.Shedrawsoutapaper,butoncemore,beforeshecanstartreadingoutof-it,McMurphyisstandingandholdinguphishandandshiftingfromfoottofoot,givingalong,thoughtful,"Saaaay,"andherfumblingstops,freezesasthoughthesoundofhisvoicefrozeherjustlikehervoicefrozethatblackboythismorning.Igetthatgiddyfeelinginsidemeagainwhenshefreezes.IwatchherclosewhileMcMurphytalks.
"Saaaaay,Doctor,whatIbeendyin’toknowiswhatdidthisdreamIdreamttheothernightmean?Yousee,itwaslikeIwasme,inthedream,andthenagainkindoflikeIwasn’tme—likeIwassomebodyelsethatlookedlikeme—like—likemydaddy!Yeah,that’swhoitwas.ItwasmydaddybecausesometimeswhenIsawme—him—Isawtherewasthisironboltthroughthejawbonelikedaddyusedtohave—"
"Yourfatherhasanironboltthroughhisjawbone?"
"Well,notanymore,buthedidoncewhenIwasakid.Hewentaroundforabouttenmonthswiththisbigmetalboltgoinginhereandcomingouthere!God,hewasaregularFrankenstein.He’dbeenclippedonthejawwithapoleaxwhenhegotintosomekindahasslewiththispondmanattheloggingmill—Hey!Letmetellyouhowthatincidentcameabout...."