Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           IswearthenexttimeIpullastuntlikethatI’llblindfoldthedamnbullinstead."

           Whackhislegandthrowbackhisheadandlaughandlaugh,digginghisthumbintotheribsofwhoeverwassittingnexttohim,tryingtogethimtolaughtoo.

           TherewastimesthatweekwhenI’dhearthatfull-throttledlaugh,watchhimscratchinghisbellyandstretchingandyawningandleaningbacktowinkatwhoeverhewasjokingwith,everythingcomingtohimjustasnaturalasdrawingbreath,andI’dquitworryingabouttheBigNurseandtheCombinebehindher.I’dthinkhewasstrongenoughbeinghisownselfthathewouldneverbackdownthewayshewashopinghewould.I’dthink,maybehetrulyissomethingextraordinary.He’swhatheis,that’sit.Maybethatmakeshimstrongenough,beingwhatheis.TheCombinehasn’tgottohiminalltheseyears;whatmakesthatnursethinkshe’sgonnabeabletodoitinafewweeks?He’snotgonnaletthemtwisthimandmanufacturehim.

           Andlater,hidinginthelatrinefromtheblackboys,I’dtakealookatmyownselfinthemirrorandwonderhowitwaspossiblethatanybodycouldmanagesuchanenormousthingasbeingwhathewas.There’dbemyfaceinthemirror,darkandhardwithbig,highcheekboneslikethecheekunderneaththemhadbeenhackedoutwithahatchet,eyesallblackandhardandmean-looking,justlikePapa’seyesortheeyesofallthosetough,mean-lookingIndiansyouseeonTV,andI’dthink,Thatain’tme,thatain’tmyface.Itwasn’tevenmewhenIwastryingtobethatface.