Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Iheardthecompressorstartpumpinginthegrillafewminutesback,justastheguyswenttomovingtablesoutofthedayroomforthetherapeuticmeeting,andalreadythemistisoozingacrossthefloorsothickmypantslegsarewet.I’mcleaningthewindowsinthedooroftheglassstation,andIheartheBigNursepickupthephoneandcallthedoctortotellhimwe’rejustaboutreadyforthemeeting,andtellhimperhapshe’dbestkeepanhourfreethisafternoonforastaffmeeting."Thereasonbeing,"shetellshim,"IthinkitispasttimetohaveadiscussionofthesubjectofPatientRandleMcMurphyandwhetherheshouldbeonthiswardornot."Shelistensaminute,thentellshim,"Idon’tthinkit’swisetolethimgoonupsettingthepatientsthewayhehasthelastfewdays."

           That’swhyshe’sfoggingthewardforthemeeting.Shedon’tusuallydothat.Butnowshe’sgoingtodosomethingwithMcMurphytoday,probablyshiphimtoDisturbed.IputdownmywindowragandgotomychairattheendofthelineofChronics,barelyabletoseetheguysgettingintotheirchairsandthedoctorcomingthroughthedoorwipinghisglasseslikehethinkstheblurredlookcomesfromhissteamedlensesinsteadofthefog.

           It’srollinginthickerthanIeverseenitbefore.

           Icanhearthemoutthere,tryingtogoonwiththemeeting,talkingsomenonsenseaboutBillyBibbit’sstutterandhowitcameabout.Thewordscometomelikethroughwater,it’ssothick.