A/N: This is in Billy's POV. I'm feeling a bit dubious about my DVD edition
of Cuckoo's Nest (I think some scenes were cut), so I'm not sure if this
scene makes a lot of sense. Anyway, I love Billy, so I thought I'd give
this a try. I read the book before I saw the film, so if some things don't
make sense, sorry. Also, I know the last sentence isn't altogether
grammatically correct, but I thought it was in character, so sorry again.
Enjoy! ~S.P
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Moonlight - or at least I think it is moonlight, it's been very long since I opened my eyes at night - streams in through the long windows, knitted over with a mesh so that the silvery light falls over us in squares, washes over our bodies like an all white chess-board.
I've lost my feet, I can't feel my legs or my head or my arms or any part of my body. I think I can feel my heart, though; it's beating very slowly in the place I used to call my chest. I'm dancing with Candy. I'm dancing to some old kind of nostalgic music that Mack used to hate, but I could never hear. I'm a bit taller than Candy, because her chin is on my shoulder and my chin is on the top of her head, gently resting on her honey-coloured curls. I want to breathe in, to smell her beautiful hair and her gentle fragrance, but I don't want to frighten her, I don't want her to think I'm a loony like the rest. I close my eyes instead and sigh in the back of my throat. I can feel her arms around my waist and it feels so satisfying. I lower my head just a bit and I can feel her skin against mine and it's cold and it's warm at the same time. Now we're not dancing any more, we're just standing and swaying a bit. I feel her long eyelashes flutter at the base of my neck and I bow my head another bit until my lips are an inch from her shoulder (I would never touch them - she's too good for that) and I'm looking down at the floor over her shoulder. I feel her breathe in - a long, shuddering breath that she releases in a tiny sigh. I think we're supporting each other, you know, because I'm so tired I don't know how else I'm upright other than Candy's holding me up, holding me straight. And the way I'm holding her.probably not the proper way to hold a girl when you're dancing, but I'll wager even Mack couldn't figure a better way to hold her. When I think of Mack, I look up from the ground and at him, and he's watching us over at the window, with this funny look on his face. Then he sees me looking at him and his face breaks up into his shark's grin (I reckon they sang that song - Mack the Knife - about him) and his eyes glitter under his black stocking cap, pulled way down low. His face is flushed bright red from the alcohol, and when he grins he almost looks as crazy as the rest of us. But he's not, you know, I reckon he's more sane than Big Nurse herself, and I like him miles more.
All around us Chronics and Acutes litter the floor and each and every one of them are drunk, even old Ellis, and Mr. Turkle's snores are echoing from his little room, loud and clear. I think that, amid the feeble wails of the Chronics and the squeaks and giggles of the Acutes, there's only four of us silent; big Chief Bromden, clutching a bottle of spirits instead of his broom, Mack, watching us again with that funny look in his eyes, Candy, and me.
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Moonlight - or at least I think it is moonlight, it's been very long since I opened my eyes at night - streams in through the long windows, knitted over with a mesh so that the silvery light falls over us in squares, washes over our bodies like an all white chess-board.
I've lost my feet, I can't feel my legs or my head or my arms or any part of my body. I think I can feel my heart, though; it's beating very slowly in the place I used to call my chest. I'm dancing with Candy. I'm dancing to some old kind of nostalgic music that Mack used to hate, but I could never hear. I'm a bit taller than Candy, because her chin is on my shoulder and my chin is on the top of her head, gently resting on her honey-coloured curls. I want to breathe in, to smell her beautiful hair and her gentle fragrance, but I don't want to frighten her, I don't want her to think I'm a loony like the rest. I close my eyes instead and sigh in the back of my throat. I can feel her arms around my waist and it feels so satisfying. I lower my head just a bit and I can feel her skin against mine and it's cold and it's warm at the same time. Now we're not dancing any more, we're just standing and swaying a bit. I feel her long eyelashes flutter at the base of my neck and I bow my head another bit until my lips are an inch from her shoulder (I would never touch them - she's too good for that) and I'm looking down at the floor over her shoulder. I feel her breathe in - a long, shuddering breath that she releases in a tiny sigh. I think we're supporting each other, you know, because I'm so tired I don't know how else I'm upright other than Candy's holding me up, holding me straight. And the way I'm holding her.probably not the proper way to hold a girl when you're dancing, but I'll wager even Mack couldn't figure a better way to hold her. When I think of Mack, I look up from the ground and at him, and he's watching us over at the window, with this funny look on his face. Then he sees me looking at him and his face breaks up into his shark's grin (I reckon they sang that song - Mack the Knife - about him) and his eyes glitter under his black stocking cap, pulled way down low. His face is flushed bright red from the alcohol, and when he grins he almost looks as crazy as the rest of us. But he's not, you know, I reckon he's more sane than Big Nurse herself, and I like him miles more.
All around us Chronics and Acutes litter the floor and each and every one of them are drunk, even old Ellis, and Mr. Turkle's snores are echoing from his little room, loud and clear. I think that, amid the feeble wails of the Chronics and the squeaks and giggles of the Acutes, there's only four of us silent; big Chief Bromden, clutching a bottle of spirits instead of his broom, Mack, watching us again with that funny look in his eyes, Candy, and me.
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