Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Hesquirmsaroundandfinallyclearshistbroat,andthenurselooksatherwatchandtellsustobringthetablesbackinfromthetubroomandwe’llresumethisdiscussionagainatonetomorrow.TheAcutesclickoutoftheirtrance,lookforaninstantinHarding’sdirection.Theirfacesburnwithashameliketheyhavejustwokeuptothefacttheybeenplayedforsuckersagain.Someofthemgotothetubroomacrossthehalltogetthetables,somewanderovertothemagazineracksandshowalotofinterestintheoldMcCall’smagazines,butwhatthey’reallreallydoingisavoidingHarding.They’vebeenmaneuveredagainintogrillingoneoftheirfriendslikehewasacriminalandtheywereallprosecutorsandjudgeandjury.Forforty-fiveminutestheybeenchoppingamantopieces,almostasiftheyenjoyedit,shootingquestionsathim:What’shethinkisthematterwithhimthathecan’tpleasethelittlelady;why’sheinsistshehasneverhadanythingtodowithanotherman;how’sheexpecttogetwellifhedoesn’tanswerhonestly?—questionsandinsinuationstillnowtheyfeelbadaboutitandtheydon’twanttobemademoreuncomfortablebybeingnearhim.

           McMurphy’seyesfollowallofthis.Hedoesn’tgetoutofhischair.Helookspuzzledagain.Hesitsinhischairforawhile,watchingtheAcutes,scuffingthatdeckofcardsupanddowntheredstubbleonhischin,thenfinallystandsupfromhisarmchair,yawnsandstretchesandscratcheshisbellybuttonwithacornerofacard,thenputsthedeckinhispocketandwalksovertowhereHardingisoffbyhimself,sweatedtohischair.

           McMurphylooksdownatHardingaminute,thenlapshisbighandoverthebackofanearbywoodenchair,swingsitaroundsothebackisfacingHarding,andstraddlesitlikehe’dstraddleatinyhorse.Hardinghasn’tnoticedathing.McMurphyslapshispocketstillhefindshiscigarettes,andtakesoneoutandlightsit;heholdsitoutinfrontofhimandfrownsatthetip,lickshisthumbandfinger,andarrangesthefiretosuithim.