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"
...
aw-ful
tired
.
"
"
And
Aide
Williams
is
coming
around
,
Doctor
Spivey
.
See
to
him
,
wo
n't
you
.
Here
.
His
watch
is
broken
and
he
's
cut
his
arm
.
"
Pete
never
tried
anything
like
that
again
,
and
he
never
will
.
Now
,
when
he
starts
acting
up
during
a
meeting
and
they
try
to
hush
him
,
he
always
hushes
.
He
'll
still
get
up
from
time
to
time
and
wag
his
head
and
let
us
know
how
tired
he
is
,
but
it
's
not
a
complaint
or
excuse
or
warning
any
more
--
he
's
finished
with
that
;
it
's
like
an
old
clock
that
wo
n't
tell
time
but
wo
n't
stop
neither
,
with
the
hands
bent
out
of
shape
and
the
face
bare
of
numbers
and
the
alarm
bell
rusted
silent
,
an
old
,
worthless
clock
that
just
keeps
ticking
and
cuckooing
without
meaning
nothing
.
The
group
is
still
tearing
into
poor
Harding
when
two
o'clock
rolls
around
.
At
two
o'clock
the
doctor
begins
to
squirm
around
in
his
chair
.
The
meetings
are
uncomfortable
for
the
doctor
unless
he
's
talking
about
his
theory
;
he
'd
rather
spend
his
time
down
in
his
office
,
drawing
on
graphs
.
He
squirms
around
and
finally
clears
his
tbroat
,
and
the
nurse
looks
at
her
watch
and
tells
us
to
bring
the
tables
back
in
from
the
tub
room
and
we
'll
resume
this
discussion
again
at
one
tomorrow
.
The
Acutes
click
out
of
their
trance
,
look
for
an
instant
in
Harding
's
direction
.
Their
faces
burn
with
a
shame
like
they
have
just
woke
up
to
the
fact
they
been
played
for
suckers
again
.
Some
of
them
go
to
the
tub
room
across
the
hall
to
get
the
tables
,
some
wander
over
to
the
magazine
racks
and
show
a
lot
of
interest
in
the
old
McCall
's
magazines
,
but
what
they
're
all
really
doing
is
avoiding
Harding
.
They
've
been
maneuvered
again
into
grilling
one
of
their
friends
like
he
was
a
criminal
and
they
were
all
prosecutors
and
judge
and
jury
.
For
forty-five
minutes
they
been
chopping
a
man
to
pieces
,
almost
as
if
they
enjoyed
it
,
shooting
questions
at
him
:
What
's
he
think
is
the
matter
with
him
that
he
ca
n't
please
the
little
lady
;
why
's
he
insist
she
has
never
had
anything
to
do
with
another
man
;
how
's
he
expect
to
get
well
if
he
does
n't
answer
honestly
?
--
questions
and
insinuations
till
now
they
feel
bad
about
it
and
they
do
n't
want
to
be
made
more
uncomfortable
by
being
near
him
.
McMurphy
's
eyes
follow
all
of
this
.
He
does
n't
get
out
of
his
chair
.
He
looks
puzzled
again
.
He
sits
in
his
chair
for
a
while
,
watching
the
Acutes
,
scuffing
that
deck
of
cards
up
and
down
the
red
stubble
on
his
chin
,
then
finally
stands
up
from
his
arm
chair
,
yawns
and
stretches
and
scratches
his
belly
button
with
a
corner
of
a
card
,
then
puts
the
deck
in
his
pocket
and
walks
over
to
where
Harding
is
off
by
himself
,
sweated
to
his
chair
.
McMurphy
looks
down
at
Harding
a
minute
,
then
laps
his
big
hand
over
the
back
of
a
nearby
wooden
chair
,
swings
it
around
so
the
back
is
facing
Harding
,
and
straddles
it
like
he
'd
straddle
a
tiny
horse
.
Harding
has
n't
noticed
a
thing
.
McMurphy
slaps
his
pockets
till
he
finds
his
cigarettes
,
and
takes
one
out
and
lights
it
;
he
holds
it
out
in
front
of
him
and
frowns
at
the
tip
,
licks
his
thumb
and
finger
,
and
arranges
the
fire
to
suit
him
.
Each
man
seems
unaware
of
the
other
.
I
ca
n't
even
tell
if
Harding
's
noticed
McMurphy
at
all
.
Harding
's
got
his
thin
shoulders
folded
nearly
together
around
himself
,
like
green
wings
,
and
he
's
sitting
very
straight
near
the
edge
of
his
chair
,
with
his
hands
trapped
between
his
knees
.
He
's
staring
straight
ahead
,
humming
to
himself
,
trying
to
look
calm
--
but
he
's
chewing
at
his
cheeks
,
and
this
gives
him
a
funny
skull
grin
,
not
calm
at
all
.
McMurphy
puts
his
cigarette
back
between
his
teeth
and
folds
his
hands
over
the
wooden
chair
back
and
leans
his
chin
on
them
,
squinting
one
eye
against
the
smoke
.
He
looks
at
Harding
with
his
other
eye
a
while
,
then
starts
talking
with
that
cigarette
wagging
up
and
down
in
his
lips
.
