Пролетая над гнездом кукушки
Chapter 5
Hehadcometolifeformaybeaminutetotrytotellussomething,somethingnoneofuscaredtolistentoortriedtounderstand,andtheefforthaddrainedhimdry.Thatshotinhishipwasaswastedasifshe’dsquirteditinadeadman—nohearttopumpit,noveintocarryituptohishead,nobrainupthereforittomortifywithitspoison.She’djustaswellshotitinadried-outoldcadaver.
"I’m...tired..."
"Now.Ithinkifyoutwoboysarebraveenough,Mr.Banciniwillgotobedlikeagoodfellow."
"...aw-fultired."
"AndAideWilliamsiscomingaround,DoctorSpivey.Seetohim,won’tyou.Here.Hiswatchisbrokenandhe’scuthisarm."
Petenevertriedanythinglikethatagain,andheneverwill.Now,whenhestartsactingupduringameetingandtheytrytohushhim,healwayshushes.He’llstillgetupfromtimetotimeandwaghisheadandletusknowhowtiredheis,butit’snotacomplaintorexcuseorwarninganymore—he’sfinishedwiththat;it’slikeanoldclockthatwon’ttelltimebutwon’tstopneither,withthehandsbentoutofshapeandthefacebareofnumbersandthealarmbellrustedsilent,anold,worthlessclockthatjustkeepstickingandcuckooingwithoutmeaningnothing.
ThegroupisstilltearingintopoorHardingwhentwoo’clockrollsaround.
Attwoo’clockthedoctorbeginstosquirmaroundinhischair.Themeetingsareuncomfortableforthedoctorunlesshe’stalkingabouthistheory;he’dratherspendhistimedowninhisoffice,drawingongraphs.
