Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           "So,anyhow,aftershewenthomeinherpantsIwaitedtilldarkwhenIhadthechancetothrowthatdamneddressoutinthenight—butyoufeelthatwind?Caughtthedresslikeakiteandwhippeditaroundthehouseoutasightandthenextmorning,byGod,itwashungupinthattreeforthewholetown,washowIfiguredthen,toturnoutandsee."

           Hesuckedhishand,sowoebegonethatCandylaughedandgaveitakiss.

           "Somycolorswereflown,andfromthatdaytothisitseemedImightaswellliveuptomyname—dedicatedlover—andit’stheGod’struth:thatlittlenine-year-oldkidoutofmyyouth’stheonewho’stoblame."

           Thehousedriftedpast.Heyawnedandwinked."Taughtmetolove,blesshersweetass."

           Then—ashewastalking—asetoftail-lightsgoingpastlitupMcMurphy’sface,andthewindshieldreflectedanexpressionthatwasallowedonlybecausehefiguredit’dbetoodarkforanybodyinthecartosee,dreadfullytiredandstrainedandfrantic,liketherewasn’tenoughtimeleftforsomethinghehadtodo...

           Whilehisrelaxed,good-naturedvoicedoledouthislifeforustolive,arollickingpastfullofkidfunanddrinkingbuddiesandlovingwomenandbarroombattlesovermeagerhonors—forallofustodreamourselvesinto.