Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Sojustquit!"Heglaresaroundthelibraryattheotherpatients."Allayou!Quitbuggingme,goddammit!"

           Andstickshiscapbackonhisheadandwalksbacktohiscartoonmagazineacrosstheroom.AlltheAcutesarelookingateachotherwiththeirmouthsopen.What’sheholleringatthemabout?Nobody’sbeenbugginghim.Nobody’saskedhimforathingsincetheyfoundoutthathewastryingtobehavetokeephiscommitmentfrombeingextended.Nowthey’resurprisedatthewayhejustblewupatHardingandcan’tfigurethewayhegrabsthebookupfromthechairandsitsdownandholdsitupcloseinfrontofhisface—eithertokeeppeoplefromlookingathimortokeepfromhavingtolookatpeople.

           ThatnightatsupperheapologizestoHardingandsayshedon’tknowwhathunghimupsoatthelibrary.Hardingsaysperhapsitwashiswife;shefrequentlyhangspeopleup.McMurphysitsstaringintohiscoffeeandsays,"Idon’tknow,man.Ijustmetherthisafternoon.Soshesurethehellisn’ttheone’sbeengivingmebaddreamsthislastmiserableweek."

           "Why,Mis-turMcMurphy,"Hardingcries,tryingtotalklikethelittleresidentboywhocomestothemeetings,"yousimplymusttellusaboutthesedreams.Ah,waituntilIgetmypencilandpad."Hardingistryingtobefunnytorelievethestrainoftheapology.Hepicksupanapkinandaspoonandactslikehe’sgoingtotakenotes."Now.Pre-cisely,whatwasityousawinthese—ah—dreams?"

           McMurphydon’tcrackasmile."Idon’tknow,man.