Пролетая над гнездом кукушки/Flying over Cuckoo's Nest (Кен Кизи). Страница 244 из 246

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"

Oh

,

they

done

a

pretty

fair

job

,

though

,

"

Martini

said

,

moving

up

alongside

the

head

and

pointing

as

he

talked

.

"

See

.

They

got

the

broken

nose

and

that

crazy

scar

--

even

the

sideburns

.

"

"

Sure

,

"

Scanlon

growled

,

"

but

hell

!

"

I

pushed

past

the

other

patients

to

stand

beside

Martini

.

"

Sure

,

they

can

do

things

like

scars

and

broken

noses

,

"

I

said

.

"

But

they

ca

n't

do

that

look

.

There

's

nothin

'

in

the

face

.

Just

like

one

of

those

store

dummies

,

ai

n't

that

right

,

Scanlon

?

"

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Scanlon

spat

again

.

"

Damn

right

.

Whole

thing

's

,

you

know

,

too

blank

.

Anybody

can

see

that

.

"

"

Look

here

,

"

one

of

the

patients

said

,

peeling

back

the

sheet

,

"

tattoos

.

"

"

Sure

,

"

I

said

,

"

they

can

do

tattoos

.

But

the

arms

,

huh

?

The

arms

?

They

could

n't

do

those

.

His

arms

were

big

!

"

For

the

rest

of

the

afternoon

Scanlon

and

Martini

and

I

ridiculed

what

Scanlon

called

that

crummy

sideshow

fake

lying

there

on

the

Gurney

,

but

as

the

hours

passed

and

the

swelling

began

subsiding

around

the

eyes

I

saw

more

and

more

guys

strolling

over

to

look

at

the

figure

.

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I

watched

them

walk

by

acting

like

they

were

going

to

the

magazine

rack

or

the

drinking

fountain

,

so

they

could

sneak

another

look

at

the

face

.

I

watched

and

tried

to

figure

out

what

he

would

have

done

.

I

was

only

sure

of

one

thing

:

he

would

n't

have

left

something

like

that

sit

there

in

the

day

room

with

his

name

tacked

on

it

for

twenty

or

thirty

years

so

the

Big

Nurse

could

use

it

as

an

example

of

what

can

happen

if

you

buck

the

system

.

I

was

sure

of

that

.

I

waited

that

night

until

the

sounds

in

the

dorm

told

me

everybody

was

asleep

,

and

until

the

black

boys

had

stopped

making

their

rounds

.

Then

I

turned

my

head

on

the

pillow

so

I

could

see

the

bed

next

to

mine

.

I

'd

been

listening

to

the

breathing

for

hours

,

since

they

had

wheeled

the

Gurney

in

and

lifted

the

stretcher

onto

the

bed

,

listening

to

the

lungs

stumbling

and

stopping

,

then

starting

again

,

hoping

as

I

listened

they

would

stop

for

good

--

but

I

had

n't

turned

to

look

yet

.

There

was

a

cold

moon

at

the

window

,

pouring

light

into

the

dorm

like

skim

milk

.

I

sat

up

in

bed

,

and

my

shadow

fell

across

the

body

,

seeming

to

cleave

it

in

half

between

the

hips

and

the

shoulders

,

leaving

only

a

black

space

.

The

swelling

had

gone

down

enough

in

the

eyes

that

they

were

open

;

they

stared

into

the

full

light

of

the

moon

,

open

and

undreaming

,

glazed

from

being

open

so

long

without

blinking

until

they

were

like

smudged

fuses

in

a

fuse

box

.

I

moved

to

pick

up

the

pillow

,

and

the

eyes

fastened

on

the

movement

and

followed

me

as

I

stood

up

and

crossed

the

few

feet

between

the

beds

.

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