Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Today’stheday!Outathesackandintothesea!"

           TheAcutesgrumbledandgripedathimandhistowel,andtheChronicswokeuptolookaroundwithbeadsbluefromlackofbloodcutoffbysheetstiedtootightacrossthechest,lookingaroundthedormtilltheyfinallycenteredonmewithweakandwatered-downoldlooks,faceswistfulandcurious.Theylaytherewatchingmepullonwarmclothesforthetrip,makingmefeeluneasyandalittleguilty.TheycouldsenseIhadbeensingledoutastheonlyChronicmakingthetrip.Theywatchedme—oldguysweldedinwheelchairsforyears,withcathetersdowntheirlegslikevinesrootingthemfortherestoftheirlivesrightwheretheyare,theywatchedmeandknewinstinctivelythatIwasgoing.Andtheycouldstillbealittlejealousitwasn’tthem.Theycouldknowbecauseenoughofthemaninthemhadbeendampedoutthattheoldanimalinstinctshadtakenover(oldChronicswakeupsuddensomenights,beforeanybodyelseknowsaguy’sdiedinthedorm,andthrowbacktheirheadsandhowl),andtheycouldbejealousbecausetherewasenoughmanlefttostillremember.

           McMurphywentouttolookatthelistandcamebackandtriedtotalkonemoreAcuteintosigning,goingdownthelinekickingatthebedsstillhadguysinthemwithsheetspulledovertheirheads,tellingthemwhatagreatthingitwastobeoutthereintheteethofthegalewithahe-manseacrackin’aroundandagoddamyo-heave-hoandabottleofrum.