Chapter 6

           OneChristmasatmidnightonthebutton,attheoldplace,thewarddoorblowsopenwithacrash,incomesafatmanwithabeard,eyesringedredbythecoldandhisnosejustthecolorofacherry.Theblackboysgethimcorneredinthehallwithflashlights.Iseehe’salltangledinthetinselPublicRelationhasbeenstringingallovertheplace,andhe’sstumblingaroundinitinthedark.He’sshadinghisredeyesfromtheflashlightsandsuckingonhismustache.

           "Hohoho,"hesays."I’dliketostaybutImustbehurryingalong.Verytightschedule,yaknow.Hoho.Mustbegoing..."

           Theblackboysmoveinwiththeflashlights.Theykepthimwithussixyearsbeforetheydischargedhim,clean-shavenandskinnyasapole.

           TheBigNurseisabletosetthewallclockatwhateverspeedshewantsbyjustturningoneofthosedialsinthesteeldoor;shetakesanotiontohurrythingsup,sheturnsthespeedup,andthosehandswhiparoundthatdisklikespokesinawheel.Thesceneinthepicture-screenwindowsgoesthroughrapidchangesoflighttoshowmorning,noon,andnight—throboffandonfuriouslywithdayanddark,andeverybodyisdrivenlikemadtokeepupwiththatpassingoffaketime;awfulscrambleofshavesandbreakfastsandappointmentsandlunchesandmedicationsandtenminutesofnightsoyoubarelygetyoureyesclosedbeforethedormlight’sscreamingatyoutogetupandstartthescrambleagain,golikeasonofabitchthisway,goingthroughthefullscheduleofadaymaybetwentytimesanhour,tilltheBigNurseseeseverybodyisrightuptothebreakingpoint,andsheslacksoffonthethrottle,easesoffthepaceonthatclock-dial,likesomekidbeenfoolingwiththemoving-pictureprojectionmachineandfinallygottiredwatchingthefilmrunattentimesitsnaturalspeed,gotboredwithallthatsillyscamperingandinsectsqueakoftalkandturneditbacktonormal.