THE MAGIC SHOES: 12) OL' SPARKY
Monster Monday Madness
“We have a special program, sponsored by the United States Government. Maybe you heard about it from Mister Kesey and that’s why you’re here?”
I remain silent.
“We need volunteers for our program,” Dr. Spivey adds. “Might you be interested?”
“Would I get to meet Ken Kesey?”
Dr. Spivey nods. “Aside from working night shift, he is also a volunteer for our special program.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“We call it MKUltra,” says Spivey. “A scientific study into altered mental states.” He winks. “Kind of like what you’re already experiencing. In fact, when you first started talking, I thought maybe you were already one of our volunteers that got lost and ended up in this ward by accident.”
I look Spivey in the eye. “I’d like to speak with Mister Kesey before first deciding whether or not to sign up as a volunteer.”
Dr. Spivey considers this. “I can arrange that.”
“Can I hang out in this ward until then?”
Dr. Spivey smiles. “I don’t see why not.” He picks up the phone, summons Nurse Ratched and instructs her accordingly.
Ratched regards me with an indifferent sneer and escorts me back into the communal room, where things have returned to what might be considered normal.
The Colonel whizzes past me in his wheelchair shouting “Brazil nuts!”
Nearby, a man washes his hands repeatedly in a water fountain.
I find an easy chair from which to observe the acutes and chronics, hoping Randall McMurphy will reappear. When he does, about an hour later, he seems somewhat subdued from electro-shock therapy. He walks in, zombie-like.
Miss Ratched smiles, proud of her handiwork—until McMurphy jumps out of his act and blows her a kiss. “Nothing like a little voltage to stiffen the old pecker!” he hollers. “You sure as hell wouldn’t be much of a stimulant!”
Ratched blushes briefly before regaining her composure. “Welcome back, Mister McMurphy.”
The acutes surround Randall, to welcome him back and check his state of mind.
“Nothing to it,” McMurphy whoops. “I think I caught a buzz.” He motions his head my way. “Who’s the new cat on the block?”
I overhear one of the acutes whisper something about my being an inspector from Washington, D.C.
McMurphy rolls his eyes, ambles over to where I’m sitting and places his hands on his hips. “You looking for the truth about this place?”
I shrug. “Just happy to meet you.”
“Truth is, they’re trying to control everyone, not get ‘em better, just control ‘em. Seems like the only way outta this hellhole is suicide—something they like to induce.” McMurphy swings his head around to face the Group Meeting facilitator, sitting on her own. “Ain’t that right, Miss Rat-shit?”
She ignores him.
“You can’t win in this place, man,” I say. “You’re playing with a deck stacked against you.”
“You think I don’t know that? But it beats prison.” Grinning, McMurphy broadly gestures at the others. “Lunatics are better company than criminals.”
“Prison is finite,” I say. “Here, you can’t leave until Nurse Ratched says so. And I don’t think she has your best interests in mind.”
“You’re the inspector. What say you try to do something about that?”
I shake my head. “I’m not really an inspector.”
“Ah-ha—you’re just one of us!”
“No. Just visiting.”
McMurphy snickers. “Yep, that’s what they all say. Next thing, they ain’t goin’ nowhere. You ask ‘em a week later why they’re still here, and they don’t know what you’re talking about, they still insist they’re leaving any minute. So whattaya do when you’re not visiting this place?”
“Lately, falling into books. Like this one.”
“Like this one what?”
I shrug. “This book. That’s all this is.”
“You’re saying I’m just a character in a book?”
“Not just any character. Your eventually get played by Jack Nicholson in a movie.”
McMurphy scratches his nuts. “Who the hell is that?”
Nurse Ratched interrupts us. “Would you come this way?” she says to me.
“Have fun with ol’ Sparky.” McMurphy puts his index fingers to his head. “Zzzzzzap!”
As Ratched leads me away, I suddenly panic. Maybe McMurphy is right!