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He
's
been
talking
faster
and
faster
,
the
cords
stretching
out
in
his
neck
.
When
he
stops
talking
,
the
ward
is
completely
silent
.
I
do
n't
hear
anything
but
a
faint
reeling
rhythm
,
what
I
figure
is
a
tape
recorder
somewhere
getting
all
of
this
.
Harding
looks
around
,
sees
everybody
's
watching
him
,
and
he
does
his
best
to
laugh
.
A
sound
comes
out
of
his
mouth
like
a
nail
being
crowbarred
out
of
a
plank
of
green
pine
;
Eee-eee-eee
.
He
ca
n't
stop
it
.
He
wrings
his
hands
like
a
fly
and
clinches
his
eyes
at
the
awful
sound
of
that
squeaking
.
But
he
ca
n't
stop
it
.
It
gets
higher
and
higher
until
finally
,
with
a
suck
of
breath
,
he
lets
his
face
fall
into
his
waiting
hands
.
"
Oh
the
bitch
,
the
bitch
,
the
bitch
,
"
he
whispers
through
his
teeth
.
McMurphy
lights
another
cigarette
and
offers
it
to
him
;
Harding
takes
it
without
a
word
.
McMurphy
is
still
watching
Harding
's
face
in
front
of
him
there
,
with
a
kind
of
puzzled
wonder
,
looking
at
it
like
it
's
the
first
human
face
he
ever
laid
eyes
on
.
He
watches
while
Harding
's
twitching
and
jerking
slows
down
and
the
face
comes
up
from
the
hands
.
"
You
are
right
,
"
Harding
says
,
"
about
all
of
it
.
"
He
looks
up
at
the
other
patients
who
are
watching
him
.
"
No
one
's
ever
dared
come
out
and
say
it
before
,
but
there
's
not
a
man
among
us
that
does
n't
think
it
,
that
does
n't
feel
just
as
you
do
about
her
and
the
whole
business
--
feel
it
somewhere
down
deep
in
his
scared
little
soul
.
"
McMurphy
frowns
and
asks
,
"
What
about
that
little
fart
of
a
doctor
?
He
might
be
a
little
slow
in
the
head
,
but
not
so
much
as
not
to
be
able
to
see
how
she
's
taken
over
and
what
she
's
doing
.
"
Harding
takes
a
long
pull
off
the
cigarette
and
lets
the
smoke
drift
out
with
his
talk
.
"
Doctor
Spivey
...
is
exactly
like
the
rest
of
us
,
McMurphy
,
completely
conscious
of
his
inadequacy
.
He
's
a
frightened
,
desperate
,
ineffectual
little
rabbit
,
totally
incapable
of
running
this
ward
without
our
Miss
Ratched
's
help
,
and
he
knows
it
.
And
,
worse
,
she
knows
he
knows
it
and
reminds
him
every
chance
she
gets
.
Every
time
she
finds
he
's
made
a
little
slip
in
the
bookwork
or
in
,
say
,
the
charting
you
can
just
imagine
her
in
there
grinding
his
nose
in
it
.
"
"
That
's
right
,
"
Cheswick
says
,
coming
up
beside
McMurphy
,
"
grinds
our
noses
in
our
mistakes
.
"
"
Why
do
n't
he
fire
her
?
"
"
In
this
hospital
,
"
Harding
says
,
"
the
doctor
does
n't
hold
the
power
of
hiring
and
firing
.
That
power
goes
to
the
supervisor
,
and
the
supervisor
is
a
woman
,
a
dear
old
friend
of
Miss
Ratched
's
;
they
were
Army
nurses
together
in
the
thirties
.
We
are
victims
of
a
matriarchy
here
,
my
friend
,
and
the
doctor
is
just
as
helpless
against
it
as
we
are
.
He
knows
that
all
Ratched
has
to
do
is
pick
up
that
phone
you
see
sitting
at
her
elbow
and
call
the
supervisor
and
mention
,
oh
,
say
,
that
the
doctor
seems
to
be
making
a
great
number
of
requisitions
for
Demerol
--
"
