 And now, Professor Phil Gangs from the NSU English Department will be reading one clue to determine one clue or a few pieces. Just a couple of editorial comments. I tried to read novels on my iPad for a certain period of time and I couldn't do it, so I'm back to books. And second, consider the number of countries in the world where such a gathering would be impossible. This is not, maybe not a uniquely American thing, but it's very distinctly so. I chose one clue over the Cougars' Nest in the past one year because of this book's position in the political literary history of the United States in 1962. It was one of the early novels to present an anti-institutional anti-establishment anti-authoritarian posture. It chose a mental health institute hospital and it's the story of a number of certainly troubled characters, but not all of them are insane. And the struggles they have, the protagonist is Randall Murphy, a scheister and a performer, but at the same time a man of some principle. The narrator is Chief Bromman, a Native American inmate of the institution as well, and I'm going to read the final passage from the book at the very end of the book. And just a couple of notes for a reference to what you've read. Murphy has just been wheeled into the living area having received a lobotomy because he had attacked Nurse Ratchet so he was essentially lost to the world and Chief Bromman had had enough and had decided to get out of the place. But before that he had decided also to smother to death Murphy because he couldn't tolerate the idea of him living his life in that position. So three things, the control panel is a large device that manages the electricity in the water in the tub area of the living area. She is Nurse Ratchet and Scanlon is another inmate who was a close bedmate to Bromman. I lay for a while holding the covers over my face. I thought I was being pretty quiet, but Scanlon's voice kissing from the bed and you know I wasn't. It was quite a while. Then I heard him kiss again and asked, is it finished? You realize that don't you? Sure nobody will be able to prove anything. Anybody could have kicked off and post-operated but like he was, happens all the time but she'll know. I didn't say it. Was that you Chief? I'd raise my tail out of here. Yes sir, I'd tell you what, you leave out of here and I'll say I saw him up and moving around after you left and cover you that way. That's the best idea you don't just think. Oh yeah, just like that. Just ask him to unlock the door and let me out. He showed you how on time to think back at very first week, remember? I didn't answer him and he didn't say anything else and it was quiet in the door again. I lay there a few minutes longer and then got out and started putting on my clothes. On the finished dressing I reached into Murphy's nightstand and got his cap and tried it on. It was too small and I was suddenly ashamed of trying to wear it. I dropped it on Scanlon's bed as I walked out of the door. He said, take it easy buddy. I walked out. The moon straining through the screen of the tub room windows showed the hunched heavy shape of the control panel. It glinted off the chrome fixtures. The glass pages so cold I could almost hear them click with it striking. Deep breath. Bed over. I took the levers. I heaved my legs under me and felt the grind of weight in my feet. I heaved again and heard the wires and connections tearing out of the floor. I lurched it up to my knees and was able to get an arm around it on my other hand under it. The chrome was cold against my neck and the side of my head. I put my back toward the screen then spun and let the momentum carry the panel through the screen in a window with a ripping crash. The glass splashed out of the moon like a bright cold water baptizing the sleeping earth. Panty. I thought for a second about going back and getting Scanlon and some of the others but then I heard the running squeak of the black boy's shoes in the hall and I put my hand on the sill and vaulted after the pavement. I ran across the grounds in the direction I remembered seeing the dog go toward the highway. I remember taking huge strides as I ran. Something seemed to step and float a long ways before my next foot struck the earth and I felt like I was flying free. Nobody bothers coming after an hay wall. I knew Scanlon could handle any questions about the dead man. No need to run like this. But I didn't stop. I ran for miles before I stopped and walked up the embankment out of the highway. I caught a ride with a guy, a Mexican guy, going north with a truck full of sheep and gave him such a good story about me being a professional Indian wrestler. Cindy couldn't try to lock up in a nut house so he stopped real quick and gave me a leather jacket to cover my greens and loaned me ten bucks to eat on while I hitchhiked to Canada. Adam write his dress down before he drove off and I told him I'd send him the money as soon as I got real ahead. I might go to Canada eventually but I think I'll stop along the Columbia on the way. I'd like to check around Port Hood River and the Dalles to see if there's any of the guys I used to know back in the village who hadn't drunk themselves goofy. I'd like to see what they've been doing since the government tried to buy their right to be Indians. I even heard that some of the tribe took their building, took to building their old ramshackle wood scaffolding all over that big million dollar hydroelectric dam or spearing salmon in the spillway. I'd give something to see that. Mostly I'd just like to look over the country again about the gorge just to bring some of it clear in my mind again. I've been away a long time.