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He
's
crying
and
stuttering
too
hard
to
say
anything
else
,
and
he
wipes
his
eyes
with
the
backs
of
his
hands
so
he
can
see
.
One
of
the
scabs
pulls
off
his
hand
,
and
the
more
he
wipes
the
more
he
smears
blood
over
his
face
and
in
his
eyes
.
Then
he
starts
running
blind
,
bouncing
down
the
hall
from
side
to
side
with
his
face
a
smear
of
blood
,
a
black
boy
right
after
him
.
McMurphy
turns
round
to
the
rest
of
the
guys
and
opens
his
mouth
to
ask
something
else
,
and
then
closes
it
when
he
sees
how
they
're
looking
at
him
.
He
stands
there
a
minute
with
the
row
of
eyes
aimed
at
him
like
a
row
of
rivets
;
then
he
says
,
"
Hell
's
bells
,
"
in
a
weak
sort
of
way
,
and
he
puts
his
cap
back
on
and
pulls
it
down
hard
and
goes
back
to
his
place
on
the
bench
The
two
technicians
come
back
from
coffee
and
go
back
in
that
room
across
the
hall
;
when
the
door
whooshes
open
you
can
smell
the
acid
in
the
air
like
when
they
recharge
a
battery
.
McMurphy
sits
there
,
looking
at
that
door
.
"
I
do
n't
seem
able
to
get
it
straight
in
my
mind
...
.
"
Crossing
the
grounds
back
to
the
ward
,
McMurphy
lagged
back
at
the
tail
end
of
the
bunch
with
his
hands
in
the
pockets
of
his
greens
and
his
cap
tugged
low
on
his
head
,
brooding
over
a
cold
cigarette
.
Everybody
was
keeping
pretty
quiet
.
They
'd
got
Billy
calmed
down
,
and
he
was
walking
at
the
front
of
the
group
with
a
black
boy
on
one
side
and
that
white
boy
from
the
Shock
Shop
on
the
other
side
.
I
dropped
back
till
I
was
walking
beside
McMurphy
and
I
wanted
to
tell
him
not
to
fret
about
it
,
that
nothing
could
be
done
,
because
I
could
see
that
there
was
some
thought
he
was
worrying
over
in
his
mind
like
a
dog
worries
at
a
hole
he
do
n't
know
what
's
down
,
one
voice
saying
,
Dog
,
that
hole
is
none
of
your
affair
--
it
's
too
big
and
too
black
and
there
's
a
spoor
all
over
the
place
says
bears
or
something
just
as
bad
.
And
some
other
voice
coming
like
a
sharp
whisper
out
of
way
back
in
his
breed
,
not
a
smart
voice
,
nothing
cagey
about
it
,
saying
,
Sic
'
im
,
dog
,
sic
'
im
!
I
wanted
to
tell
him
not
to
fret
about
it
,
and
I
was
just
about
to
come
out
and
say
it
when
he
raised
his
head
and
shoved
his
hat
back
and
speeded
up
to
where
the
least
black
boy
was
walking
and
slapped
him
on
the
shoulder
and
asked
him
,
"
Sam
,
what
say
we
stop
by
the
canteen
here
a
second
so
I
can
pick
me
up
a
carton
or
two
of
cigarettes
.
"
I
had
to
hurry
to
catch
up
,
and
the
run
made
my
heart
ring
a
high
,
excited
pitch
in
my
head
.
Even
in
the
canteen
I
still
heard
that
sound
my
heart
had
knocked
ringing
in
my
head
,
though
my
heart
had
slowed
back
to
normal
.
The
sound
reminded
me
of
how
I
used
to
feel
standing
in
the
cold
fall
Friday
night
out
on
a
football
field
,
waiting
for
the
ball
to
be
kicked
and
the
game
to
get
going
.
The
ringing
would
build
and
build
till
I
did
n't
think
I
could
stand
still
any
longer
;
then
the
kick
would
come
and
it
would
be
gone
and
the
game
would
be
on
its
way
.
I
felt
that
same
Friday-night
ringing
now
,
and
felt
the
same
wild
,
stomping-up-and-down
impatience
.
And
I
was
seeing
sharp
and
high-pitched
too
,
the
way
I
did
before
a
game
and
the
way
I
did
looking
out
of
the
dorm
window
a
while
back
:
everything
was
sharp
and
clear
and
solid
like
I
forgot
it
could
be
.
Lines
of
toothpaste
and
shoelaces
,
ranks
of
sunglasses
and
ballpoint
pens
guaranteed
right
on
them
to
write
a
lifetime
on
butter
under
water
,
all
guarded
against
shoplifters
by
a
big-eyed
force
of
Teddy
bears
sitting
high
on
a
shelf
over
the
counter
.
McMurphy
came
stomping
up
to
the
counter
beside
me
and
hooked
his
thumbs
in
his
pockets
and
told
the
salesgirl
to
give
him
a
couple
of
cartons
of
Marlboros
.
"
Maybe
make
it
three
cartons
,
"
he
said
,
grinning
at
her
.
"
I
plan
to
do
a
lot
of
smokin
'
.
"
