Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           McMurphywalkspastthewindowwhereshe’sglaringoutathimandgrinsatherlikeheknowshe’sgotherwhippednow.Whenhetipshisheadbackandwinksathershegivesthatlittlesidewaysjerkofherhead.

           Everybodykeepsonatwhathe’sdoing,buttheyallwatchoutofthecornersoftheireyeswhilehedragshisarmchairouttoinfrontoftheTVset,thenswitchesonthesetandsitsdown.Apictureswirlsontothescreenofaparrotoutonthebaseballfieldsingingrazor-bladesongs.McMurphygetsupandturnsupthesoundtodrownoutthemusiccomingdownfromthespeakerintheceiling,andhedragsanotherchairinfrontofhimandsitsdownandcrosseshisfeetonthechairandleansbackandlightsacigarette.Hescratcheshisbellyandyawns.

           "Hoo-weee!Man,allIneedmenowisacanofbeerandared-hot."

           Wecanseethenurse’sfacegetredandhermouthworkasshestaresathim.Shelooksaroundforasecondandseeseverybody’swatchingwhatshe’sgoingtodo—eventheblackboysandthelittlenursessneakinglooksather,andtheresidentsbeginningtodriftinforthestaffmeeting,they’rewatching.Hermouthclampsshut.ShelooksbackatMcMurphyandwaitstilltherazor-bladesongisfinished;thenshegetsupandgoestothesteeldoorwherethecontrolsare,andsheflipsaswitchandtheTVpictureswirlsbackintothegray.NothingisleftonthescreenbutalittleeyeoflightbeadingrightdownonMcMurphysittingthere.

           Thateyedon’tfazehimabit.