Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Thelittleonebesidetheotherlikeanimageinareducingmirror.TheywerealmosttoPetewhenitsuddenlystruckthemwhattheotherboyshouldofknown,thatPetewasn’twiredundercontrolliketherestofus,thathewasn’tabouttomindjustbecausetheygavehimanorderorgavehisarmajerk.Iftheyweretotakehimthey’dhavetotakehimlikeyoutakeawildbearorbull,andwithoneoftheirnumberoutcoldagainstthebaseboards,theothertwoblackboysdidn’tcarefortheodds.

           Thisthoughtgotthembothatonceandtheyfroze,thebigoneandhistinyimage,inexactlythesameposition,leftfootforward,righthandout,halfwaybetweenPeteandtheBigNurse.Thatironballswinginginfrontofthemandthatsnowwhiteangerbehindthem,theyshookandsmokedandIcouldheargearsgrinding.Icouldseethemtwitchwithconfusion,likemachinesthrottledfullaheadandwiththebrakeon.

           Petestoodthereinthemiddleofthefloor,swingingthatballbackandforthathisside,allleanedovertoitsweight.Everybodywaswatchinghimnow.Helookedfromthebigblackboytothelittleone,andwhenhesawtheyweren’tabouttocomeanycloserheturnedtothepatients.

           "Yousee—it’salottabaloney,"hetoldthem,"it’sallalottabaloney."

           TheBigNursehadslidfromherchairandwasworkingtowardherwickerbagleaningatthedoor."Yes,yes,Mr.Bancini,"shecrooned,"nowifyou’lljustbecalm—"

           "That’sallitis,nothin’butalottabaloney."Hisvoicelostitscopperstrengthandbecamestrainedandurgentlikehedidn’thavemuchtimetofinishwhathehadtosay."Yasee,Ican’thelpit,Ican’t—don’tyasee.Iwasborndead.Notyou.Youwasn’tborndead.Ahhhh,it’sbeenhard..."