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But
an
Admission
is
a
different
story
.
Even
the
best-behaved
Admission
is
bound
to
need
some
work
to
swing
into
routine
,
and
,
also
,
you
never
can
tell
when
just
that
certain
one
might
come
in
who
's
free
enough
to
foul
things
up
right
and
left
,
really
make
a
hell
of
a
mess
and
constitute
a
threat
to
the
whole
smoothness
of
the
outfit
.
And
,
like
I
explain
,
the
Big
Nurse
gets
real
put
out
if
anything
keeps
her
outfit
from
running
smooth
.
Before
noontime
they
're
at
the
fog
machine
again
but
they
have
n't
got
it
turned
up
full
;
it
's
not
so
thick
but
what
I
can
see
if
I
strain
real
hard
.
One
of
these
days
I
'll
quit
straining
and
let
myself
go
completely
,
lose
myself
in
the
fog
the
way
some
of
the
other
Chronics
have
,
but
for
the
time
being
I
'm
interested
in
this
new
man
--
I
want
to
see
how
he
takes
to
the
Group
Meeting
coming
up
.
Ten
minutes
to
one
the
fog
dissolves
completely
and
the
black
boys
are
telling
Acutes
to
clear
the
floor
for
the
meeting
.
All
the
tables
are
carried
out
of
the
day
room
to
the
tub
room
across
the
hall
--
leaves
the
floor
,
McMurphy
says
,
like
we
was
aiming
to
have
us
a
little
dance
.
The
Big
Nurse
watches
all
this
through
her
window
.
She
has
n't
moved
from
her
spot
in
front
of
that
one
window
for
three
solid
hours
,
not
even
for
lunch
.
The
day-room
floor
gets
cleared
of
tables
,
and
at
one
o'clock
the
doctor
comes
out
of
his
office
down
the
hall
,
nods
once
at
the
nurse
as
he
goes
past
where
she
's
watching
out
her
window
,
and
sits
in
his
chair
just
to
the
left
of
the
door
.
The
patients
sit
down
when
he
does
;
then
the
little
nurses
and
the
residents
straggle
in
.
When
everybody
's
down
,
the
Big
Nurse
gets
up
from
behind
her
window
and
goes
back
to
the
rear
of
the
Nurses
'
Station
to
that
steel
panel
with
dials
and
buttons
on
it
,
sets
some
kind
of
automatic
pilot
to
run
things
while
she
's
away
,
and
comes
out
into
the
day
room
,
carrying
the
log
book
and
a
basketful
of
notes
.
Her
uniform
,
even
after
she
's
been
here
half
a
day
,
is
still
starched
so
stiff
it
do
n't
exactly
bend
any
place
;
it
cracks
sharp
at
the
joints
with
a
sound
like
a
frozen
canvas
being
folded
.
She
sits
just
to
the
right
of
the
door
.
Soon
as
she
's
sat
down
,
Old
Pete
Bancini
sways
to
his
feet
and
starts
in
wagging
his
head
and
wheezing
.
"
I
'm
tired
.
Whew
.
O
Lord
.
Oh
,
I
'm
awful
tired
...
"
the
way
he
always
does
whenever
there
's
a
new
man
on
the
ward
who
might
listen
to
him
.
The
Big
Nurse
does
n't
look
over
at
Pete
.
She
's
going
through
the
papers
in
her
basket
.
"
Somebody
go
sit
beside
Mr.
Bancini
,
"
she
says
.
"
Quiet
him
down
so
we
can
start
the
meeting
.
"
Billy
Bibbit
goes
.
Pete
has
turned
facing
McMurphy
and
is
lolling
his
head
from
side
to
side
like
a
signal
light
at
a
railroad
crossing
.
He
worked
on
the
railroad
thirty
years
;
now
he
's
wore
clean
out
but
still
's
functioning
on
the
memory
.
"
I
'm
ti-i-uhd
,
"
he
says
,
wagging
his
face
at
McMurphy
.
"
Take
it
easy
,
Pete
,
"
Billy
says
,
lays
a
freckled
hand
on
Pete
's
knee
.
"
...
Awful
tired
...
"
