Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Iletthemsayanotherthingortwoabouttheheatandthehouse;thenIstandupandtellthefatman,inmyverybestschoolbooklanguage,thatoursodhouseislikelytobecoolerthananyoneofthehousesintown,lotscooler!"Iknowforafactthatit’scooler’nthatschoolIgotoandevencooler’nthatmoviehouseinTheDallesthatadvertisesonthatsigndrawnwithiciclelettersthatit’s‘coolinside’!"

           AndI’mjustabouttogoandtellthem,how,ifthey’llcomeonin,I’llgogetPapafromthescaffoldsonthefalls,whenIseethattheydon’tlooklikethey’dheardmetalkatall.Theyaren’tevenlookingatme.Thefatmanisswingingbackandforth,lookingoffdowntheridgeoflavatowherethemenarestandingtheirplacesonthescaffoldinginthefalls,justplaidshirtedshapesinthemistfromthisdistance.Everysooftenyoucanseesomebodyshootoutanarmandtakeastepforwardlikeaswordfighter,andthenholduphisfifteen-footforkedspearforsomebodyonthescaffoldabovehimtopulloffthefloppingsalmon.Thefatguywatchesthemenstandingintheirplacesinthefifty-footveilofwater,andbatshiseyesandgruntseverytimeoneofthemmakesalungeforasalmon.

           Theothertwo,Johnandthewoman,arejuststanding.NotaoneofthethreeactsliketheyheardathingIsaid;infactthey’realllookingofffrommelikethey’dassoonIwasn’tthereatall.

           Andeverythingstopsandhangsthiswayforaminute.