-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Кен Кизи
-
- Пролетая над гнездом кукушки
-
- Стр. 147/246
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
requested
another
pass
after
telling
the
doctor
he
had
some
friends
at
the
Siuslaw
Bay
at
Florence
who
would
like
to
take
eight
or
nine
of
the
patients
out
deep-sea
fishing
if
it
was
okay
with
the
staff
,
and
he
wrote
on
the
request
list
out
in
the
hall
that
this
time
he
would
be
accompanied
by
"
two
sweet
old
aunts
from
a
little
place
outside
of
Oregon
City
.
"
In
the
meeting
his
pass
was
granted
for
the
next
weekend
.
When
the
nurse
finished
officially
noting
his
pass
in
her
roll
book
,
she
reached
into
her
wicker
bag
beside
her
feet
and
drew
out
a
clipping
that
she
had
taken
from
the
paper
that
morning
,
and
read
out
loud
that
although
fishing
off
the
coast
of
Oregon
was
having
a
peak
year
,
the
salmon
were
running
quite
late
in
the
season
and
the
sea
was
rough
and
dangerous
.
And
she
would
suggest
the
men
give
that
some
thought
.
"
Good
idea
,
"
McMurphy
said
.
He
closed
his
eyes
and
sucked
a
deep
breath
through
his
teeth
.
"
Yes
sir
!
The
salt
smell
o
'
the
poundin
'
sea
,
the
crack
o
'
the
bow
against
the
waves
--
braving
the
elements
,
where
men
are
men
and
boats
are
boats
.
Miss
Ratched
,
you
've
talked
me
into
it
.
I
'll
call
and
rent
that
boat
this
very
night
.
Shall
I
sign
you
on
?
"
Instead
of
answering
she
walked
to
the
bulletin
board
and
pinned
up
the
clipping
.
The
next
day
he
started
signing
up
the
guys
that
wanted
to
go
and
that
had
ten
bucks
to
chip
in
on
boat
rent
,
and
the
nurse
started
steadily
bringing
in
clippings
from
the
newspapers
that
told
about
wrecked
boats
and
sudden
storms
on
the
coast
.
McMurphy
pooh-poohed
her
and
her
clippings
,
saying
that
his
two
aunts
had
spent
most
of
their
lives
bouncing
around
the
waves
in
one
port
or
another
with
this
sailor
or
that
,
and
they
both
guaranteed
the
trip
was
safe
as
pie
,
safe
as
pudding
,
not
a
thing
to
worry
about
.
But
the
nurse
still
knew
her
patients
.
The
clippings
scared
them
more
than
McMurphy
'd
figured
.
He
'd
figured
there
would
be
a
rush
to
sign
up
,
but
he
'd
had
to
talk
and
wheedle
to
get
the
guys
he
did
.
The
day
before
the
trip
he
still
needed
a
couple
more
before
he
could
pay
for
the
boat
.
I
did
n't
have
the
money
,
but
I
kept
getting
this
notion
that
I
wanted
to
sign
the
list
.
And
the
more
he
talked
about
fishing
for
Chinook
salmon
the
more
I
wanted
to
go
.
I
knew
it
was
a
fool
thing
to
want
;
if
I
signed
up
it
'd
be
the
same
as
coming
right
out
and
telling
everybody
I
was
n't
deaf
.
If
I
'd
been
hearing
all
this
talk
about
boats
and
fishing
it
'd
show
I
'd
been
hearing
everything
else
that
'd
been
said
in
confidence
around
me
for
the
past
ten
years
.
And
if
the
Big
Nurse
found
out
about
that
,
that
I
'd
heard
all
the
scheming
and
treachery
that
had
gone
on
when
she
did
n't
think
anybody
was
listening
,
she
'd
hunt
me
down
with
an
electric
saw
,
fix
me
where
she
knew
I
was
deaf
and
dumb
.
Bad
as
I
wanted
to
go
,
it
still
made
me
smile
a
little
to
think
about
it
:
I
had
to
keep
on
acting
deaf
if
I
wanted
to
hear
at
all
.
I
lay
in
bed
the
night
before
the
fishing
trip
and
thought
it
over
,
about
my
being
deaf
,
about
the
years
of
not
letting
on
I
heard
what
was
said
,
and
I
wondered
if
I
could
ever
act
any
other
way
again
.
But
I
remembered
one
thing
:
it
was
n't
me
that
started
acting
deaf
;
it
was
people
that
first
started
acting
like
I
was
too
dumb
to
hear
or
see
or
say
anything
at
all
.
It
had
n't
been
just
since
I
came
in
the
hospital
,
either
;
people
first
took
to
acting
like
I
could
n't
hear
or
talk
a
long
time
before
that
.
In
the
Army
anybody
with
more
stripes
acted
that
way
toward
me
.
That
was
the
way
they
figured
you
were
supposed
to
act
around
someone
looked
like
I
did
.
And
even
as
far
back
as
grade
school
I
can
remember
people
saying
that
they
did
n't
think
I
was
listening
,
so
they
quit
listening
to
the
things
I
was
saying
.
Lying
there
in
bed
,
I
tried
to
think
back
when
I
first
noticed
it
.
I
think
it
was
once
when
we
were
still
living
in
the
village
on
the
Columbia
.
It
was
summer
...
.
...
and
I
'm
about
ten
years
old
and
I
'm
out
in
front
of
the
shack
sprinkling
salt
on
salmon
for
the
racks
behind
the
house
,
when
I
see
a
car
turn
off
the
highway
and
come
lumbering
across
the
ruts
through
the
sage
,
towing
a
load
of
red
dust
behind
it
as
solid
as
a
string
of
boxcars
.
I
watch
the
car
pull
up
the
hill
and
stop
down
a
piece
from
our
yard
,
and
the
dust
keeps
coming
,
crashing
into
the
rear
of
it
and
busting
in
every
direction
and
finally
settling
on
the
sage
and
soapweed
round
about
and
making
it
look
like
chunks
of
red
,
smoking
wreckage
.
