He starts to tremble again, and his shoulders fold back around him.
No. She doesnt need to accuse. She has a genius for insinuation. Did you ever hear her, in the course of our discussion today, ever once hear her accuse me of anything? Yet it seems I have been accused of a multitude of things, of jealousy and paranoia, of not being man enough to satisfy my wife, of having relations with male friends of mine, of holding my cigarette in an affected manner, even it seems to me accused of having nothing between my legs but a patch of hair and soft and downy and blond hair at that! Ball-cutter? Oh, you underestimate her!
Harding hushes all of a sudden and leans forward to take McMurphys hand in both of his. His face is tilted oddly, edged, jagged purple and gray, a busted wine bottle.
This world belongs to the strong, my friend! The ritual of our existence is based on the strong getting stronger by devouring the weak. We must face up to this. No more than right that it should be this way. We must learn to accept it as a law of the natural world. The rabbits accept their role in the ritual and recognize the wolf as the strong. In defense, the rabbit becomes sly and frightened and elusive and he digs holes and hides when the wolf is about. And he endures, he goes on. He knows his place. He most certainly doesnt challenge the wolf to combat. Now, would that be wise? Would it?
He lets go McMurphys hand and leans back and crosses his legs, takes another long pull off the cigarette. He pulls the cigarette from his thin crack of a smile, and the laugh starts up again eee-eee-eee, like a nail coming out of a plank.
Mr. McMurphy my friend Im not a chicken, Im a rabbit. The doctor is a rabbit. Cheswick there is a rabbit. Billy Bibbit is a rabbit. All of us in here are rabbits of varying ages and degrees, hippity-hopping through our Walt Disney world. Oh, dont misunderstand me, were not in here because we are rabbits wed be rabbits wherever we were were all in here because we cant adjust to our rabbithood. We need a good strong wolf like the nurse to teach us our place.
Man, youre talkin like a fool. You mean to tell me that youre gonna sit back and let some old blue-haired woman talk you into being a rabbit?
Not talk me into it, no. I was born a rabbit. Just look at me. I simply need the nurse to make me happy with my role.
Youre no damned rabbit!
See the ears? the wiggly nose? the cute little button tail?
Youre talking like a crazy ma
Like a crazy man? How astute.
Damn it, Harding, I didnt mean it like that. You aint crazy that way. I mean hell, I been surprised how sane you guys all are. As near as I can tell youre not any crazier than the average asshole on the street
Ah yes, the asshole on the street.
But not, you know, crazy like the movies paint crazy people. Youre just hung up and kind of
Kind of rabbit-like, isnt that it?
Rabbits, hell! Not a thing like rabbits, goddammit.
Mr. Bibbit, hop around for Mr. McMurphy here. Mr. Cheswick, show him how furry, you are.
Billy Bibbit and Cheswick change into hunched-over white rabbits, right before my eyes, but they are too ashamed to do any of the things Harding told them to do.
Ah, theyre bashful, McMurphy. Isnt that sweet? Or, perhaps, the fellows are ill at ease because they didnt stick up for their friend. Perhaps they are feeling guilty for the way they once again let her victimize them into being her interrogators. Cheer up, friends, youve no reason to feel ashamed. It is all as it should be. Its not the rabbits place to stick up for his fellow. That would have been foolish. No, you were wise, cowardly but wise.
Look here, Harding, Cheswick says.
No, no, Cheswick. Dont get irate at the truth.
Now look here; theres been times when Ive said the same things about old lady Ratched that McMurphy has been saying.
Yes, but you said them very quietly and took them all back later. You are a rabbit too, dont try to avoid the truth. Thats why I hold no grudge against you for the questions you asked me during the meeting today. You were only playing your role. If you had been on the carpet, or you Billy, or you Fredrickson, I would have attacked you just as cruelly as you attacked me. We mustnt be ashamed of our behavior; its the way we little animals were meant to behave.
McMurphy turns in his chair and looks the other Acutes up and down. I aint so sure but what they should be ashamed. Personally, I thought it was damned crummy the way they swung in on her side against you. For a minute there I thought I was back in a Red Chinese prison camp
Now by God, McMurphy, Cheswick says, you listen here.
McMurphy turns and listens, but Cheswick doesnt go on. Cheswick never goes on; hes one of these guys wholl make a big fuss like hes going to lead an attack, holler charge and stomp up and down a minute, take a couple steps, and quit. McMurphy looks at him where hes been caught off base again after such a tough-sounding start, and says to him, A hell of a lot like a Chinese prison camp.
Harding holds up his hands for peace. Oh, no, no, that isnt right. You mustnt condemn us, my friend. No. In fact
I see that sly fever come into Hardings eye again; I think hes going to start laughing, but instead he takes his cigarette out of his mouth and points it at McMurphy in his hand it looks like one of his thin, white fingers, smoking at the end.
you too, Mr. McMurphy, for all your cowboy bluster and your sideshow swagger, you too, under that crusty surface, are probably just as soft and fuzzy and rabbit-souled as we are.
Yeah, you bet. Im a little cottontail. Just what is it makes me a rabbit, Harding? My psychopathic tendencies? Is it my fightin tendencies, or my fuckin tendencies? Must be the fuckin, mustnt it? All that whambam-thank-you-maam. Yeah, that whambam, thats probably what makes me a rabbit
Wait; Im afraid youve raised a point that requires some deliberation. Rabbits are noted for that certain trait, arent they? Notorious, in fact, for their whambam[13]. Yes. Um. But in any case, the point you bring up simply indicates that you are a healthy, functioning and adequate rabbit, whereas most of us in here even lack the sexual ability to make the grade as adequate rabbits. Failures, we are feeble, stunted, weak little creatures in a weak little race. Rabbits, sans whambam; a pathetic notion.
Wait a minute; you keep twistin what I say
No. You were right. You remember, it was you that drew our attention to the place where the nurse was concentrating her pecking? That was true. Theres not a man here that isnt afraid he is losing or has already lost his whambam. We comical little creatures cant even achieve masculinity in the rabbit world, thats how weak and inadequate we are. Hee. We are the rabbits, one might say, of the rabbit world!
He leans forward again, and that strained, squeaking laugh of his that I been expecting begins to rise from his mouth, his hands flipping around, his lace twitching.
Harding! Shut your damned mouth!
Its like a slap. Harding is hushed, chopped off cold with his mouth still open in a drawn grin, his hands dangling in a cloud of blue tobacco smoke. He freezes this way a second; then his eyes narrow into sly little holes and he lets them slip over to McMurphy, speaks so soft that I have to push my broom up right next to his chair to hear what he says.
He leans forward again, and that strained, squeaking laugh of his that I been expecting begins to rise from his mouth, his hands flipping around, his lace twitching.
Harding! Shut your damned mouth!
Its like a slap. Harding is hushed, chopped off cold with his mouth still open in a drawn grin, his hands dangling in a cloud of blue tobacco smoke. He freezes this way a second; then his eyes narrow into sly little holes and he lets them slip over to McMurphy, speaks so soft that I have to push my broom up right next to his chair to hear what he says.
Friend you may be a wolf.
Goddammit, Im no wolf and youre no rabbit. Hoo, I never heard such
You have a very wolfy roar.
With a loud hissing o: breath McMurphy turns from Harding to the rest of the Acutes standing around. Here; all you guys. What the hell is the matter with you? You aint as crazy as all this, thinking youre some animal.
No, Cheswick says and steps in beside McMurphy. No, by God, not me. Im not any rabbit.
Thats the boy, Cheswick. And the rest of you, lets just knock it off. Look at you, talking yourself into running scared from some fifty-year-old woman. What is there she can do to you, anyway?
Yeah, what? Cheswick says and glares around at the others.
She cant have you whipped. She cant burn you with hot irons. She cant tie you to the rack. They got laws about that sort of thing nowadays; this aint the Middle Ages. Theres not a thing in the world that she can
You s-s-saw what she c-can do to us! In the m-m-meeting today. I see Billy Bibbit has changed back from a rabbit. He leans toward McMurphy, trying to go on, his mouth wet with spit and his face red. Then he turns and walks away. Ah, its n-no use. I should just k-k-kill myself.
McMurphy calls after him. Today? What did I see in the meeting today? Hells bells, all I saw today was her asking a couple of questions, and nice, easy questions at that. Questions aint bonebreakers, they aint sticks and stones.
Billy turns back. But the wuh-wuh-way she asks them
You dont have to answer, do you?
If you d-dont answer she just smiles and m-m-makes a note in her little book and then she she oh, hell!
Scanlon comes up beside Billy. If you dont answer her questions, Mack, you admit it just by keeping quiet. Its the way those bastards in the government get you. You cant beat it. The only thing to do is blow the whole business off the face of the whole bleeding earth blow it all up.
Well, when she asks one of those questions, why dont you tell her to up and go to hell?
Yeah, Cheswick says, shaking his fist, tell her to up and go to hell.
So then what, Mack? Shed just come right back with Why do you seem so upset by that par-tik-uler question, Patient McMurphy?
So, you tell her to go to hell again. Tell them all to go to hell. They still havent hurt you.
The Acutes are crowding closer around him. Fredrickson answers this time. Okay, you tell her that and youre listed as Potential Assaultive and shipped upstairs to the Disturbed ward. I had it happen. Three times. Those poor goofs up there dont even get off the ward to go to the Saturday afternoon movie. They dont even have a TV.
And, my friend, if you continue to demonstrate such hostile tendencies, such as telling people to go to hell, you get lined up to go to the Shock Shop, perhaps even on to greater things, an operation, an
Damn it, Harding, I told you Im not up on this talk.
The Shock Shop, Mr. McMurphy, is jargon for the EST machine, the Electro Shock Therapy. A device that might be said to do the work of the sleeping pill, the electric chair, and the torture rack. Its a clever little procedure, simple, quick, nearly painless it happens so fast, but no one ever wants another one. Ever.
Whats this thing do?
You are strapped to a table, shaped, ironically, like a cross, with a crown of electric sparks in place of thorns. You are touched on each side of the head with wires. Zap! Five cents worth of electricity through the brain and you are jointly administered therapy and a punishment for your hostile go-to-hell behavior, on top of being put out of everyones way for six hours to three days, depending on the individual. Even when you do regain consciousness you are in a state of disorientation for days. You are unable to think coherently. You cant recall things. Enough of these treatments and a man could turn out like Mr. Ellis you see over there against the wall. A drooling, pants-wetting idiot at thirty-five. Or turn into a mindless organism that eats and eliminates and yells fuck the wife, like Ruckly. Or look at Chief Broom clutching to his namesake there beside you.
Harding points his cigarette at me, too late for me to back off. I make like I dont notice. Go on with my sweeping.
Ive heard that the Chief, years ago, received more than two hundred shock treatments when they were really the vogue. Imagine what this could do to a mind that was already slipping. Look at him: a giant janitor. Theres your Vanishing American, a six-foot-eight sweeping machine, scared of its own shadow. That, my friend, is what we can be threatened with.
McMurphy looks at me a while, then turns back to Harding. Man, I tell you, how come you stand for it? What about this democratic-ward manure that the doctor was giving me? Why dont you take a vote?
Harding smiles at him and takes another slow drag on his cigarette. Vote what, my friend? Vote that the nurse may not ask any more questions in Group Meeting? Vote that she shall not look at us in a certain way? You tell me, Mr. McMurphy, what do we vote on?
Hell, I dont care. Vote on anything. Dont you see you have to do something to show you still got some guts? Dont you see you cant let her take over completely? Look at you here: you say the Chief is scared of his own shadow, but I never saw a scareder-looking bunch in my life than you guys.
Not me! Cheswick says.
Maybe not you, buddy, but the rest are even scared to open up and laugh. You know, thats the first thing that got me about this place, that there wasnt anybody laughing. I havent heard a real laugh since I came through that door, do you know that? Man, when you lose your laugh you lose your footing. A man go around lettin a woman whip him down till he cant laugh any more, and he loses one of the biggest edges hes got on his side. First thing you know hell begin to think shes tougher than he is and
Ah. I believe my friend is catching on, fellow rabbits. Tell me, Mr. McMurphy, bow does one go about showing a woman whos boss, I mean other than laughing at her? How does he show her whos king of the mountain? A man like you should be able to tell us that. You dont slap her around, do you? No, then she calls the law. You dont lose your temper and shout at her; shell win by trying to placate her big ol angry boy: Is us little man getting fussy? Ahhhhh? Have you ever tried to keep up a noble and angry front in the face of such consolation? So you see, my friend, it is somewhat as you stated: man has but one truly effective weapon against the juggernaut of modern matriarchy, but it certainly is not laughter. One weapon, and with every passing year in this hip, motivationally researched society, more and more people are discovering how to render that weapon useless and conquer those who have hitherto been the conquerors