Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           AgainstthewallofthetubroomIgetafeelinglikeaspy;themophandleinmyhandsismadeofmetalinsteadofwood(metal’sabetterconductor)andit’shollow;there’splentyofroominsideittohideaminiaturemicrophone.IftheBigNurseishearingthis,she’llreallygetCheswick.Itakeahardballofgumfrommypocketandpicksomefuzzoffitandholditinmymouthtillitsoftens.

           "Letmeseeagain,"McMurphysays."HowmanyofyoubirdswillvotewithmeifIbringupthattimeswitchagain?"

           AbouthalftheAcutesnodyes,alotmorethanwouldreallyvote.Heputshishatbackonhisheadandleanshischininhishands.

           "Itellya,Ican’tfigureitout.Harding,what’swrongwithyou,forcryingoutloud?Youafraidifyouraiseyourhandthatoldbuzzard’llcutitoff."

           Hardingliftsonethineyebrow."PerhapsIam;perhapsIamafraidshe’llcutitoffifIraiseit."

           "Whataboutyou,Billy?Isthatwhatyou’rescaredof?""No.Idon’tthinkshe’dd-d-doanything,but"—heshrugsandsighsandclimbsuponthebigpanelthatcontrolsthenozzlesontheshower,perchesuptherelikeamonkey"—butIjustdon’tthinkavotewu-wu-woulddoanygood.Notinthel-longrun.It’sjustnouse,M-Mack."

           "Doanygood?Hooee!It’ddoyoubirdssomegoodjusttogettheexerciseliftingthatarm."

           "It’sstillarisk,myfriend.Shealwayshasthecapacitytomakethingsworseforus.Abaseballgameisn’tworththerisk,"Hardingsays.