McMurphy and Baseball

Pages 120-123

The last day of the World Series. Imma bring up a vote again. I swear these rules will be the death of me.

“So remember that vote we had a day or so back — about the TV time? Well, today’s Friday and I thought I might just bring it up again, just to see if anybody else has picked up a little guts.”

The Big Nurse speaks to the group with a monotone voice and a smile on her face, as she always does. “Mr. McMurphy, the purpose of this meeting is therapy, group therapy, and I’m not certain these petty grievances —” Group therapy? More like group torture.

“Yeah, yeah, the hell with that, we’ve heard it before. Me and some of the rest of the guys decided —”

The damn nurse interrupts me, her voice a tad bit more annoyed.

“One moment, Mr. McMurphy, let me pose a question to the group: do any of you feel that Mr. McMurphy is perhaps imposing his personal desires on some of you too much? I’ve been thinking you might be happier if he were moved to a different ward.”

Damn. I’ve been here for less than a week and they already want to get rid of me? Is it so wrong to speak my fucking mind here?

Then I hear, “Let him vote, why dontcha? Why ya want to ship him to Disturbed just for bringing up a vote? What’s so wrong with changing time?”

Finally, someone has some sense.

There is nothing wrong with starting a vote.

What is so wrong with changing the fucking time?

Wait, what is Disturbed?

“Why, Mr. Scanlon, as I recall, you refused to eat for three days until we allowed you to turn the set on at six instead of six-thirty.” The Nurse responds. Ah, the time has been changed before, so it can be done again.

I tap out for a minute. The Big Nurse and the Scanlon guy are talking, but who the hell knows what they’re talking about?

At last, I hear, “A vote is now before the group. Will a show of hands be adequate, Mr. McMurphy, or are you going to insist on a secret ballot?” What a pain in the ass. I don’t want no fucking secret ballot.

“I want to see the hands. I want to see the hands that don’t go up too.” C’mon people, wake up.

“Everyone in favor of changing the television time to the afternoon, raise his hand.” As soon as the Nurse finishes her sentence, I shoot my hand up, and watch the rest of the Acutes raise theirs. The room is tense. Everyone, the patients and the staff, are stunned. The nurse is carefully watching everyone, counting the votes.

“I count only twenty, Mr. McMurphy.” She says, her face calm, but I sense smugness.

“Twenty? Well, why not? Twenty is all of us there—” I stop. There aren’t twenty of us. There’s forty of us. It’s a fucking tie!

“Now hold on just a goddamned minute, lady—” I say, as calmly as possible, my fists opening and closing.

I don’t remember what happens next. My heart is pounding in my ears and my face and neck are hot with fury.

I stand up.

“Wait! Wait a minute, let me talk to those old guys.”

I hear the nurse say something, but at this point, her voice sounds like the soft squeak of a mouse. I walk towards some random ass Chronic and ask him, “What about you buddy? You want to watch the World Series? Baseball? Baseball games? Just raise that hand up there—” Man interrupts me, saying, “Ffffffffuck da wife.”

Asking him is useless. Asking all of these Chronics is fucking useless. Why can’t they see that we just need one more vote to give us the upper hand? Wait. I missed someone.

“Chief, you’re our last bet.”

I hear the creak of the chairs as the nurses and doctors stand up, but I’m watching Chief, feeling all the eyes on me and him as everyone pauses in anticipation.

Finally, after a beat, his hand slowly lifts up. Chief did it. He fucking did it.

“Twenty-one! The Chief’s vote makes it twenty-one! And by god if that ain’t majority I’ll eat my hat!” I’m shaking with excitement. I hear someone else say, “Yippee.”

“The meeting was closed.” The nurse says, her smile still there. But everyone can tell she’s about to explode with fury.

STYLISTIC CHOICES:

I chose to narrate McMurphy because he is arrogant, manipulative, and rebellious. Unlike the current narrator, Bromden, who is more of a bystander and gets all of his information objectively, but McMurphy is in the center of the events happening in the ward. He notices the oppression and decides to do something about it. Written from McMurphy’s perspective, what he was thinking and saying would be a lot more colorful and interesting for the reader. In this narrative, I tried to imitate his emotions and behaviors as best as I could by incorporating dialogue from the book and using that as a springboard for the narrative.