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I
heard
him
give
his
age
only
one
time
,
overheard
him
,
to
tell
the
truth
,
when
he
was
talking
to
his
mother
down
in
the
lobby
.
She
was
receptionist
down
there
,
a
solid
,
well-packed
lady
with
hair
revolving
from
blond
to
blue
to
black
and
back
to
blond
again
every
few
months
,
a
neighbor
of
the
Big
Nurse
's
,
from
what
I
'd
heard
,
and
a
dear
personal
friend
.
Whenever
we
'd
go
on
some
activity
Billy
would
always
be
obliged
to
stop
and
lean
a
scarlet
cheek
over
that
desk
for
her
to
dab
a
kiss
on
.
It
embarrassed
the
rest
of
us
as
much
as
it
did
Billy
,
and
for
that
reason
nobody
ever
teased
him
about
it
,
not
even
McMurphy
.
One
afternoon
,
I
do
n't
recall
how
long
back
,
we
stopped
on
our
way
to
activities
and
sat
around
the
lobby
on
the
big
plastic
sofas
or
outside
in
the
two-o'clock
sun
while
one
of
the
black
boys
used
the
phone
to
call
his
bookmaker
,
and
Billy
's
mother
took
the
opportunity
to
leave
her
work
and
come
out
from
behind
her
desk
and
take
her
boy
by
the
hand
and
lead
him
outside
to
sit
near
where
I
was
on
the
grass
.
She
sat
stiff
there
on
the
grass
,
tight
at
the
bend
with
her
short
round
legs
out
in
front
of
her
in
stockings
,
reminding
me
of
the
color
of
bologna
skins
,
and
Billy
lay
beside
her
and
put
his
head
in
her
lap
and
let
her
tease
at
his
ear
with
a
dandelion
fluff
.
Billy
was
talking
about
looking
for
a
wife
and
going
to
college
someday
.
His
mother
tickled
him
with
the
fluff
and
laughed
at
such
foolishness
.
"
Sweetheart
,
you
still
have
scads
of
time
for
things
like
that
.
Your
whole
life
is
ahead
of
you
.
"
"
Mother
,
I
'm
th-th-thirty-one
years
old
!
"
She
laughed
and
twiddled
his
ear
with
the
weed
.
"
Sweetheart
,
do
I
look
like
the
mother
of
a
middle-aged
man
?
"
She
wrinkled
her
nose
and
opened
her
lips
at
him
and
made
a
kind
of
wet
kissing
sound
in
the
air
with
her
tongue
,
and
I
had
to
admit
she
did
n't
look
like
a
mother
of
any
kind
.
I
did
n't
believe
myself
that
he
could
be
thirty-one
years
old
till
later
when
I
edged
up
close
enough
to
act
a
look
at
the
birth
date
on
his
wristband
.
At
midnight
,
when
Geever
and
the
other
black
boy
and
the
nurse
went
off
duty
,
and
the
old
colored
fellow
,
Mr.
Turkle
,
came
on
for
his
shift
,
McMurphy
and
Billy
were
already
up
,
taking
vitamins
,
I
imagined
.
I
got
out
of
bed
and
put
on
a
robe
and
walked
out
to
the
day
room
,
where
they
were
talking
with
Mr.
Turkle
.
Harding
and
Scanlon
and
Sefelt
and
some
of
the
other
guys
came
out
too
.
McMurphy
was
telling
Mr.
Turkle
what
to
expect
if
the
girl
did
come
,
--
reminding
him
,
actually
,
because
it
looked
like
they
'd
talked
it
all
over
beforehand
a
couple
of
weeks
back
.
McMurphy
said
that
the
thing
to
do
was
let
the
girl
in
the
window
,
instead
of
risking
having
her
come
through
the
lobby
,
where
the
night
supervisor
might
be
.
And
to
unlock
the
Seclusion
Room
then
.
Yeah
,
wo
n't
that
make
a
fine
honeymoon
shack
for
the
lovers
?
Mighty
secluded
.
(
"
Ahh
,
McM-Murphy
,
"
Billy
kept
trying
to
say
.
)
And
to
keep
the
lights
out
.
So
the
supervisor
could
n't
see
in
.
And
close
the
dorm
doors
and
not
wake
up
every
slobbering
Chronic
in
the
place
.
And
to
keep
quiet
;
we
do
n't
want
to
disturb
them
.
"
Ah
,
come
on
,
M-M-Mack
,
"
Billy
said
.
Mr.
Turkle
kept
nodding
and
bobbing
his
head
,
appearing
to
fall
half
asleep
.
When
McMurphy
said
,
"
I
guess
that
pretty
well
covers
things
,
"
Mr.
Turkle
said
,
"
No
--
not
en-tiuhly
,
"
and
sat
there
grinning
in
his
white
suit
with
his
bald
yellow
head
floating
at
the
end
of
his
neck
like
a
balloon
on
a
stick
.
