Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           LikeIexplained,mostnightsbeforetheyranmetobedtheygavemethispill,knockedmeoutandkeptmeout.OrifsomethingwenthaywirewiththedoseandIwokeup,myeyeswereallcrustedoverandthedormwasfullofsmoke,wiresinthewallsloadedtothelimit,twistingandsparkingdeathandhateintheair—alltoomuchformetotakesoI’drammyheadunderthepillowandtrytogetbacktosleep.EverytimeIpeekedbackouttherewouldbethesmellofburninghairandasoundlikesidemeatonahotgriddle.

           Butthisonenight,afewnightsafterthebigmeeting,Iwokeupandthedormwascleanandsilent;exceptforthesoftbreathingofthemenandthestuffrattlingaroundlooseunderthebrittleribsofthetwooldVegetables,itwasdeadquiet.Awindowwasup,andtheairinthedormwasclearandhadatastetoitmademefeelkindofgiddyanddrunk,gavemethissuddenyentogetupoutofbedanddosomething.

           Islidfrombetweenthesheetsandwalkedbarefootacrossthecoldtilebetweenthebeds.Ifeltthetilewithmyfeetandwonderedhowmanytimes,howmanythousandtimes,hadIrunamopoverthissametilefloorandneverfeltitatall.Thatmoppingseemedlikeadreamtome,likeIcouldn’texactlybelieveallthoseyearsofithadreallyhappened.Onlythatcoldlinoleumundermyfeetwasrealrightthen,onlythatmoment.

           Iwalkedamongtheguysheapedinlongwhiterowslikesnowbanks,carefulnottobumpintosomebody,tillIcametothewallwiththewindows.