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Some
nights
he
'll
untie
the
sheet
from
across
me
if
it
's
so
tight
I
squirm
around
.
He
would
n't
do
it
if
he
thought
the
day
crew
knew
it
was
him
,
because
they
'd
probably
fire
him
,
but
he
figures
the
day
crew
will
think
it
was
me
untied
it
.
I
think
he
really
does
it
to
be
kind
,
to
help
--
but
he
makes
sure
he
's
safe
first
.
This
time
he
does
n't
untie
the
sheet
but
walks
away
from
me
to
help
two
aides
I
never
saw
before
and
a
young
doctor
lift
old
Blastic
onto
the
stretcher
and
carry
him
out
,
covered
with
a
sheet
--
handle
him
more
careful
than
anybody
ever
handled
him
before
in
all
his
life
.
Come
morning
,
McMurphy
is
up
before
I
am
,
the
first
time
anybody
been
up
before
me
since
Uncle
Jules
the
Wallwalker
was
here
.
Jules
was
a
shrewd
old
white-haired
Negro
with
a
theory
the
world
was
being
tipped
over
on
its
side
during
the
night
by
the
black
boys
;
he
used
to
slip
out
in
the
early
mornings
,
aiming
to
catch
them
tipping
it
.
Like
Jules
,
I
'm
up
early
in
the
mornings
to
watch
what
machinery
they
're
sneaking
onto
the
ward
or
installing
in
the
shaving
room
,
and
usually
it
's
just
me
and
the
black
boys
in
the
hall
for
fifteen
minutes
before
the
next
patient
is
out
of
bed
.
But
this
morning
I
hear
McMurphy
out
there
in
the
latrine
as
I
come
out
of
the
covers
.
Hear
him
singing
!
Singing
so
you
'd
think
he
did
n't
have
a
worry
in
the
world
.
His
voice
is
clear
and
strong
slapping
up
against
the
cement
and
steel
.
"
'
Your
horses
are
hungry
,
that
's
what
she
did
say
.
'
"
He
's
enjoying
the
way
the
sound
rings
in
the
latrine
.
"
'
Come
sit
down
beside
me
,
an
'
feed
them
some
hay
.
'
"
He
gets
a
breath
,
and
his
voice
jumps
a
key
,
gaining
pitch
and
power
till
it
's
joggling
the
wiring
in
all
the
walls
.
"
'
My
horses
ai
n't
hungry
,
they
wo
n't
eat
your
hay-ay-aeee
.
'
"
He
holds
the
note
and
plays
with
it
,
then
swoops
down
with
the
rest
of
the
verse
to
finish
it
off
.
"
'
So
fare-thee-well
,
darlin
'
,
I
'm
gone
on
my
way
.
'
"
Singing
!
Everybody
's
thunderstruck
.
They
have
n't
heard
such
a
thing
in
years
,
not
on
this
ward
.
Most
of
the
Acutes
in
the
dorm
are
up
on
their
elbows
,
blinking
and
listening
.
They
look
at
one
another
and
raise
their
eyebrows
.
How
come
the
black
boys
have
n't
hushed
him
up
out
there
?
They
never
let
anybody
raise
that
much
racket
before
,
did
they
?
How
come
they
treat
this
new
guy
different
?
The
fat
black
boy
stands
out
there
in
the
hall
where
I
can
see
him
,
looking
all
around
and
giggling
.
He
walks
toward
the
dorm
door
,
slow
,
wiping
the
wet
gray
palms
in
his
armpits
.
The
light
from
the
Nurses
'
Station
throws
his
shadow
on
the
dorm
wall
big
as
an
elephant
,
gets
smaller
as
he
walks
to
the
dorm
door
and
looks
in
.
He
giggles
again
and
unlocks
the
fuse
box
by
the
door
and
reaches
in
.
"
Tha
's
right
,
babies
,
sleep
tight
.
"
Twists
a
knob
,
and
the
whole
floor
goes
to
slipping
down
away
from
him
standing
in
the
door
,
lowering
into
the
building
like
a
platform
in
a
grain
elevator
!
Not
a
thing
but
the
dorm
floor
moves
,
and
we
're
sliding
away
from
the
walls
and
door
and
the
windows
of
the
ward
at
a
hell
of
a
clip
--
beds
,
bedstands
,
and
all
.
The
machinery
--
probably
a
cog-and-track
affair
at
each
corner
of
the
shaft
--
is
greased
silent
as
death
.
The
only
sound
I
hear
is
the
guys
breathing
,
and
that
drumming
under
us
getting
louder
the
farther
down
we
go
.
The
light
of
the
dorm
door
five
hundred
yards
back
up
this
hole
is
nothing
but
a
speck
,
dusting
the
square
sides
of
the
shaft
with
a
dim
powder
.
It
gets
dimmer
and
dimmer
till
a
faraway
scream
comes
echoing
down
the
sides
of
the
shaft
--
"
Stay
back
!
"
--
and
the
light
goes
out
altogether
.
The
floor
reaches
some
kind
of
solid
bottom
far
down
in
the
ground
and
stops
with
a
soft
jar
.
It
's
dead
black
,
and
I
can
feel
the
sheet
around
me
choking
off
my
wind
.
Just
as
I
get
the
sheet
untied
,
the
floor
starts
sliding
forward
with
a
little
jolt
.
Some
kind
of
castors
under
it
I
ca
n't
hear
.
I
ca
n't
even
hear
the
guys
around
me
breathing
,
and
I
realize
all
of
a
sudden
it
's
because
that
drumming
's
gradually
got
so
loud
I
ca
n't
hear
anything
else
.
We
must
be
square
in
the
middle
of
it
.
He
's
a
man
made
outa
skin
and
bone
that
's
due
to
get
weak
and
pale
and
die
,
just
like
the
rest
of
us
.
I
go
to
clawing
at
that
damned
sheet
tied
across
me
and
just
about
have
it
loose
when
a
whole
wall
slides
up
,
reveals
a
huge
room
of
endless
machines
stretching
clear
out
of
sight
,
swarming
with
sweating
,
shirtless
men
running
up
and
down
catwalks
,
faces
blank
and
dreamy
in
firelight
thrown
from
a
hundred
blast
furnaces
.
