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It
--
everything
I
see
--
looks
like
it
sounded
,
like
the
inside
of
a
tremendous
dam
.
Huge
brass
tubes
disappear
upward
in
the
dark
.
Wires
run
to
transformers
out
of
sight
.
Grease
and
cinders
catch
on
everything
,
staining
the
couplings
and
motors
and
dynamos
red
and
coal
black
.
The
workers
all
move
at
the
same
smooth
sprint
,
an
easy
,
fluid
stride
.
No
one
's
in
a
hurry
.
One
will
hold
up
a
second
,
spin
a
dial
,
push
a
button
,
throw
a
switch
,
and
one
side
of
his
face
flashes
white
like
lightning
from
the
spark
of
the
connecting
switch
,
and
run
on
,
up
steel
steps
and
along
a
corrugated
iron
catwalk
--
pass
each
other
so
smooth
and
close
I
hear
the
slap
of
wet
sides
like
the
slap
of
a
salmon
's
tail
on
water
--
stop
again
,
throw
lightning
from
another
switch
,
and
run
on
again
.
They
twinkle
in
all
directions
clean
on
out
of
sight
,
these
flash
pictures
of
the
dreamy
doll
faces
of
the
workmen
.
A
workman
's
eyes
snap
shut
while
he
's
going
at
full
run
,
and
he
drops
in
his
tracks
;
two
of
his
buddies
running
by
grab
him
up
and
lateral
him
into
a
furnace
as
they
pass
.
The
furnace
whoops
a
ball
of
fire
and
I
hear
the
popping
of
a
million
tubes
like
walking
through
a
field
of
seed
pods
.
This
sound
mixes
with
the
whirr
and
clang
of
the
rest
of
the
machines
.
There
's
a
rhythm
to
it
,
like
a
thundering
pulse
.
The
dorm
floor
slides
on
out
of
the
shaft
and
into
the
machine
room
.
He
lives
under
the
same
laws
,
got
ta
eat
,
bumps
up
against
the
same
troubles
;
these
things
make
him
just
as
vulnerable
to
the
Combine
as
anybody
else
,
do
n't
they
?
But
the
new
guy
is
different
,
and
the
Acutes
can
see
it
,
different
from
anybody
been
coming
on
this
ward
for
the
past
ten
years
,
different
from
anybody
they
ever
met
outside
.
He
's
just
as
vulnerable
,
maybe
,
but
the
Combine
did
n't
get
him
.
"
'
My
wagons
are
loaded
,
'
"
he
sings
,
"
'
my
whip
's
in
my
hand
...
'
"
How
'd
he
manage
to
slip
the
collar
?
Maybe
,
like
old
Pete
,
the
Combine
missed
getting
to
him
soon
enough
with
controls
.
Maybe
he
growed
up
so
wild
all
over
the
country
,
batting
around
from
one
place
to
another
,
never
around
one
town
longer
'n
a
few
months
when
he
was
a
kid
so
a
school
never
got
much
a
hold
on
him
,
logging
,
gambling
,
running
carnival
wheels
,
traveling
lightfooted
and
fast
,
keeping
on
the
move
so
much
that
the
Combine
never
had
a
chance
to
get
anything
installed
.
Maybe
that
's
it
,
he
never
gave
the
Combine
a
chance
,
just
like
he
never
gave
the
black
boy
a
chance
to
get
to
him
with
the
thermometer
yesterday
morning
,
because
a
moving
target
is
hard
to
hit
.
No
wife
wanting
new
linoleum
.
No
relatives
pulling
at
him
with
watery
old
eyes
.
No
one
to
care
about
,
which
is
what
makes
him
free
enough
to
be
a
good
con
man
.
And
maybe
the
reason
the
black
boys
do
n't
rush
into
that
latrine
and
put
a
stop
to
his
singing
is
because
they
know
he
's
out
of
control
,
and
they
remember
that
time
with
old
Pete
and
what
a
man
out
of
control
can
do
.
And
they
can
see
that
McMurphy
's
a
lot
bigger
than
old
Pete
;
if
it
comes
down
to
getting
the
best
of
him
,
it
's
going
to
take
all
three
of
them
and
the
Big
Nurse
waiting
on
the
sidelines
with
a
needle
.
The
Acutes
nod
at
one
another
;
that
's
the
reason
,
they
figure
,
that
the
black
boys
have
n't
stopped
his
singing
where
they
would
stop
any
of
the
rest
of
us
.
I
come
out
of
the
dorm
into
the
hall
just
as
McMurphy
comes
out
of
the
latrine
.
He
's
got
his
cap
on
and
not
much
else
,
just
a
towel
grabbed
around
his
hips
.
He
's
holding
a
toothbrush
in
his
other
hand
.
He
stands
in
the
hall
,
looking
up
and
down
,
rocking
up
on
his
toes
to
keep
off
the
cold
tile
as
much
as
he
can
.
Picks
him
out
a
black
boy
,
the
least
one
,
and
walks
up
to
him
and
whaps
him
on
the
shoulder
just
like
they
'd
been
friends
all
their
lives
.
