暴风雨
（美）凯特?肖邦

I
树叶儿在树梢上纹丝不动。毕比都觉出快下雨了。惯于跟儿子平等交谈的博毕诺特提醒孩子，沉闷的炸雷会随不祥的乌云从西边滚来。他们这会儿正在弗里德海姆的商店里，决定等暴风雨过后再上路，两人就坐在门内的两个空桶上。毕比今年四岁，长得聪明伶俐。
“妈妈会害怕的，肯定会。” 毕比眨巴着眼睛说。
“她会把门关上，也许今晚会找西尔维尔来帮忙。” 博毕诺特安慰儿子。
“不，不会的。西尔维尔昨天来过了。”毕比尖声叫起来。
博毕诺特起身到柜台买了罐卡利克斯塔最爱吃的虾，拿着虾子回到原地呆坐着。外面风雨正劲，简直要掀开这个木头搭建的小店，远处的田野似乎要被雷电劈出一条条巨大的鸿沟。毕比把小手放在爸爸的膝盖上，没有感觉到害怕。

II
这会儿卡利克斯塔正在家里，并没意识到他们的安全受到威胁。她正坐在窗边拼命踩缝纫机，专注得没有感觉出暴风雨正在逼近。可她感到热了，老停下来擦脸上的汗珠。她解开白色外衣的领口，这时她突然感到天黑了下来，赶紧起身去关门窗。
屋外小晒台上晒着博毕诺特的礼拜服。她匆忙出屋，抢在下雨前收回来。一出屋，见阿尔西?拉巴利尔骑马朝这边走来。自从结婚以后，她几乎没见过他，更没有与他单独碰面了。她楞楞地站在那里，手里拿着一件博毕诺特的外衣，硕大的雨点已经落下。阿尔西骑马走到屋边的雨棚，一群鸡正躲在那儿避雨，拐角还堆放着一些犁耙。
“我能在你晒台上避一避，暴风雨过后再走吗，卡利克斯塔？”他问。
“进来吧，阿尔西先生。”
她吓了一跳，他和她的声音好象把自己从沉睡中震醒了一般，她拽住一件博毕诺特的背心。阿尔西登上门廊，一把抓住博毕诺特的裤子和毕比一件差点被风吹跑的镶边背心。他本想就在外面避一避雨，可这跟在露台淋雨差不多，水猛烈地溅打在木板上，于是只好走进屋里，顺手关上了门。这时门下还需堵个东西，挡住雨水的侵入。
“天哪，这大雨！有两年没这么下过了。” 卡利克斯塔一边卷编织袋一边感叹，阿尔西帮她把编织袋堵在门的缝隙处。
她比五年前结婚时丰满了些，活泼依然，蓝色的眼睛里注满了柔顺，被狂风吹乱的金发固执地扭缠在她耳朵和太阳穴的地方。
雨点猛烈地敲打在低矮的木瓦屋顶上，肆虐着似乎要灌进屋来。屋里已经积水：饭厅、起居室和杂用室都有水了，隔壁是她的卧室，毕比的卧榻和她的并排放着。卧室门是开的，硕大的白色卧床和紧闭的百叶窗，使屋内顿生朦胧与神秘。
阿尔西一屁股坐进摇椅，卡利克斯塔开始紧张地从地板上收拾起她刚才缝制的一块棉布床单。
“天哪，这么下大堤能保住吗？”她惊恐地叫起来。
“大堤跟你有什么关系？”
“有关系！博毕诺特和毕比还在外面没回来呢，这会儿他们要是还没离开弗里德姆的商店就好了！”
“博毕诺特一定会知道怎么躲过旋风再家的，卡利克斯塔。”
她走到窗边，擦着玻璃上布满的水汽，脸上挂满焦虑。屋内热得令人窒息。阿尔西过来帮着擦试窗子。他目光越过卡利克斯塔的肩头朝外看，屋外大雨滂沱，看不清远处的小屋，远方的树林也笼罩在一片灰色的雾气之中。闪电一个接一个，突然，一个闪电击中了田边一棵高高的楝树，顿时划出大片刺眼的光亮，炸裂声似乎要侵入他们脚下的地板。
卡利克斯塔捂住双眼哭起来，阿尔西拥住她蹒跚地退向屋里。霎时，他突然动情地把她紧紧搂在怀里。
“哎呀！”她惊叫着挣脱他的手臂离开了窗子，“下一个该轮到这幢房子了！毕比在哪呢！”她着了慌，坐不住了。阿尔西扳过她的肩膀直直地注视着她的眼睛，她温热颤抖的身体，钩起他对她曾经的迷恋与渴望，他情不自禁地搂紧了她。
“卡利克斯塔，别怕，不会有事的。”他说，“这屋子很矮，周围有那么多高树，雷打不到房子的。好了，好了。别怕，好吗？”他捋净她脸上的头发。卡利克斯塔脸庞灼热，嘴唇红润得像石榴子儿一样。白皙的脖项和丰满挺拔的胸脯更是让阿尔西安分不下。卡利克斯塔抬起双眼，泪汪汪的蓝眼睛里，此时已经没有了恐惧，有的只是恍惚，那恍惚无意识地暴露了自己感官的渴望。他看着她的眼睛，毫不犹豫地逮住了她的嘴唇。呵！这让他回想起在阿桑普申的日子。
“还记得吗？卡利克斯塔，在阿桑普申，”他低声问，激动得有点语无伦次。哦，她当然记得。那次在阿桑普申，他死命地亲吻她，直亲得自己差点没喘过气。为救她他可以孤注一掷远走高飞。那时的她即使不算纯洁，也没有被玷污侵犯。面对热情无助的她，廉耻心阻止他进一步的非礼。可是现在，现在，她的嘴唇似乎正等待着任人品尝，还有那圆润白皙的脖颈和乳房。
屋外的瓢泼大雨他们已经不再理会，风雨的呼啸惹得她在他的臂弯里哈哈大笑，她驱散了房内的朦胧与神秘。躺在床上的她像床一样洁白，坚实而有弹性的肉体如奶色的百合在太阳的邀约下，向世间永恒的生命播撒芬芳。她平生第一次享受了生来俱有的权利。
没有功利，没有诡计。不可遏制的情感就像白色的火焰，带着无限的穿透力，在他刻骨铭心的感觉之颠找到回应。
被他抚摩的双乳颤抖着快乐地迎接他，邀约他的唇。她的嘴是快乐之源。当他终于拥有她时，他们好象在生命神秘的边缘攀上了快乐之颠。
他靠在她身上喘着气，眼睛似乎在冒金星。他瘫软着，可心脏却像小锤一样咚咚地敲打她。她一手搂起他的头轻轻亲吻前额，另一只手安详而有节奏地抚摩他强健的双肩。
雷声的轰鸣渐渐远去继而消失，雨点轻轻敲打在木瓦上，催人昏昏欲睡，可他们不敢就这样睡去。
雨止了。太阳的照耀下，葱绿的世界宛如一座美玉宫殿。卡利克斯塔站在晒台上目送阿尔西骑马离去。他回身朝她粲然微笑，卡利克斯塔抬起美丽的下颏，纵情的笑声不绝于耳。

III
博毕诺特和毕比在泥泞中跋涉着往家赶，经水塘时也没却步。
“哎呀毕比，你这副样子妈妈看了会怎么说！真该惭愧的，你不该穿这条好裤子出来。你看现在这样子！还有这领子上的泥，毕比！泥怎么搞到领子上了？我没见过这副样子的孩子！”一脸焦急的博毕诺特正在清除自己和儿子淌一路泥泞时沾满全身的泥水，他小心地用棍子刮去毕比赤裸的腿脚上的污泥，抹掉自己靴子上的污浊，这才做好最坏的准备，谨慎地走进家门，叩见家中挑剔的女主人。
卡利克斯塔在做晚饭，她已把桌子摆好，正在炉边倒咖啡，一见他们进屋，她赶紧迎上。
“哦，博毕诺特，你们回来了！哎呀，真急死我了。下雨的时候你们在哪儿？毕比呢，淋湿了吗？伤着没有？”她一把搂过毕比，死劲亲着他的小脸。卡利克斯塔摸着博毕诺特的全身，看他身上还有没有干的地方。一路上想好的解释和道歉此时到嘴边又咽下去了，博毕诺特只是满意地舒了口气，总算安全到家了。
“卡利克斯塔，我给你买虾子了，”博毕诺特说着从宽大的口袋里拿出一罐虾放在桌上。“虾子！哦，博毕诺特，你真好！”她在他脸上亲了一声脆响。“跟你们说，今晚我们好好吃一顿！”
博毕诺特和毕比松了口气，高兴起来。三人在餐桌边坐下，乐陶陶笑个不停，那笑声甚至传到拉巴利尔的住处，附近的人都听到了。

IV
这天晚上阿尔西?拉巴利尔给妻子克拉莉莎写信，这是一封充满柔情与挂念的情书。他告诉克拉莉莎，如果她和孩子们想在比洛克西再待一个月，就不必急着回来。他一切都好，虽然很想念他们，但能继续忍受这暂时的分离——因为对他来说，她和孩子们的健康和快乐是首位的。

V
至于克拉莉莎，收到丈夫的信她很高兴。她和孩子们都很好，她有许多老友和熟人都在这个海湾，大家交往融洽。婚后第一次的自由呼吸，似乎让她又回到了少女时代自由自在的日子。一直在丈夫身边鞍前马后，现在她很想暂时放弃一下这种亲密的婚姻生活。
暴风雨过去了，人人都很幸福。

The Storm
by Kate Chopin

I

The leaves were so still that even Bibi thought it was going to rain. Bobint, who was accustomed to converse on terms of perfect equality with his little son, called the child's attention to certain sombre clouds that were rolling with sinister intention from the west, accompanied by a sullen, threatening roar. They were at Friedheimer's store and decided to remain there till the storm had passed. They sat within the door on two empty kegs. Bibi was four years old and looked very wise.

"Mama'll be 'fraid, yes, he suggested with blinking eyes.

"She'll shut the house. Maybe she got Sylvie helpin' her this evenin'," Bobint responded reassuringly.

"No; she ent got Sylvie. Sylvie was helpin' her yistiday,' piped Bibi.

Bobint arose and going across to the counter purchased a can of shrimps, of which Calixta was very fond. Then he retumed to his perch on the keg and sat stolidly holding the can of shrimps while the storm burst. It shook the wooden store and seemed to be ripping great furrows in the distant field. Bibi laid his little hand on his father's knee and was not afraid.

II

Calixta, at home, felt no uneasiness for their safety. She sat at a side window sewing furiously on a sewing machine. She was greatly occupied and did not notice the approaching storm. But she felt very warm and often stopped to mop her face on which the perspiration gathered in beads. She unfastened her white sacque at the throat. It began to grow dark, and suddenly realizing the situation she got up hurriedly and went about closing windows and doors.

Out on the small front gallery she had hung Bobint's Sunday clothes to dry and she hastened out to gather them before the rain fell. As she stepped outside, Alce Laballire rode in at the gate. She had not seen him very often since her marriage, and never alone. She stood there with Bobint's coat in her hands, and the big rain drops began to fall. Alce rode his horse under the shelter of a side projection where the chickens had huddled and there were plows and a harrow piled up in the corner.

"May I come and wait on your gallery till the storm is over, Calixta?" he asked.

Come 'long in, M'sieur Alce."

His voice and her own startled her as if from a trance, and she seized Bobint's vest. Alce, mounting to the porch, grabbed the trousers and snatched Bibi's braided jacket that was about to be carried away by a sudden gust of wind. He expressed an intention to remain outside, but it was soon apparent that he might as well have been out in the open: the water beat in upon the boards in driving sheets, and he went inside, closing the door after him. It was even necessary to put something beneath the door to keep the water out.

"My! what a rain! It's good two years sence it rain' like that," exclaimed Calixta as she rolled up a piece of bagging and Alce helped her to thrust it beneath the crack.

She was a little fuller of figure than five years before when she married; but she had lost nothing of her vivacity. Her blue eyes still retained their melting quality; and her yellow hair, dishevelled by the wind and rain, kinked more stubbornly than ever about her ears and temples.

The rain beat upon the low, shingled roof with a force and clatter that threatened to break an entrance and deluge them there. They were in the dining room the sitting room the general utility room. Adjoining was her bed room, with Bibi's couch along side her own. The door stood open, and the room with its white, monumental bed, its closed shutters, looked dim and mysterious.

Alce flung himself into a rocker and Calixta nervously began to gather up from the floor the lengths of a cotton sheet which she had been sewing.

lf this keeps up, Dieu sait if the levees goin' to stan it!" she exclaimed.

"What have you got to do with the levees?"

"I got enough to do! An' there's Bobint with Bibi out in that storm if he only didn' left Friedheimer's!"

"Let us hope, Calixta, that Bobint's got sense enough to come in out of a cyclone."

She went and stood at the window with a greatly disturbed look on her face. She wiped the frame that was clouded with moisture. It was stiflingly hot. Alce got up and joined her at the window, looking over her shoulder. The rain was coming down in sheets obscuring the view of far-off cabins and enveloping the distant wood in a gray mist. The playing of the lightning was incessant. A bolt struck a tall chinaberry tree at the edge of the field. It filled all visible space with a blinding glare and the crash seemed to invade the very boards they stood upon.

Calixta put her hands to her eyes, and with a cry, staggered backward. Alce's arm encircled her, and for an instant he drew her close and spasmodically to him.

"Bont!" she cried, releasing herself from his encircling arm and retreating from the window, the house'll go next! If I only knew w'ere Bibi was!" She would not compose herself; she would not be seated. Alce clasped her shoulders and looked into her face. The contact of her warm, palpitating body when he had unthinkingly drawn her into his arms, had aroused all the old-time infatuation and desire for her flesh.

"Calixta," he said, "don't be frightened. Nothing can happen. The house is too low to be struck, with so many tall trees standing about. There! aren't you going to be quiet? say, aren't you?" He pushed her hair back from her face that was warm and steaming. Her lips were as red and moist as pomegranate seed. Her white neck and a glimpse of her full, firm bosom disturbed him powerfully. As she glanced up at him the fear in her liquid blue eyes had given place to a drowsy gleam that unconsciously betrayed a sensuous desire. He looked down into her eyes and there was nothing for him to do but to gather her lips in a kiss. It reminded him of Assumption.

"Do you rememberin Assumption, Calixta?" he asked in a low voice broken by passion. Oh! she remembered; for in Assumption he had kissed her and kissed and kissed her; until his senses would well nigh fail, and to save her he would resort to a desperate flight. If she was not an immaculate dove in those days, she was still inviolate; a passionate creature whose very defenselessness had made her defense, against which his honor forbade him to prevail. Now well, now her lips seemed in a manner free to be tasted, as well as her round, white throat and her whiter breasts.

They did not heed the crashing torrents, and the roar of the elements made her laugh as she lay in his arms. She was a revelation in that dim, mysterious chamber; as white as the couch she lay upon. Her firm, elastic flesh that was knowing for the first time its birthright, was like a creamy lily that the sun invites to contribute its breath and perfume to the undying life of the world.

The generous abundance of her passion, without guile or trickery, was like a white flame which penetrated and found response in depths of his own sensuous nature that had never yet been reached.

When he touched her breasts they gave themselves up in quivering ecstasy, inviting his lips. Her mouth was a fountain of delight. And when he possessed her, they seemed to swoon together at the very borderland of life's mystery.

He stayed cushioned upon her, breathless, dazed, enervated, with his heart beating like a hammer upon her. With one hand she clasped his head, her lips lightly touching his forehead. The other hand stroked with a soothing rhythm his muscular shoulders.

The growl of the thunder was distant and passing away. The rain beat softly upon the shingles, inviting them to drowsiness and sleep. But they dared not yield.

III

The rain was over; and the sun was turning the glistening green world into a palace of gems. Calixta, on the gallery, watched Alce ride away. He turned and smiled at her with a beaming face; and she lifted her pretty chin in the air and laughed aloud.

Bobint and Bibi, trudging home, stopped without at the cistern to make themselves presentable.

"My! Bibi, w'at will yo' mama say! You ought to be ashame'. You oughta' put on those good pants. Look at 'em! An' that mud on yo' collar! How you got that mud on yo' collar, Bibi? I never saw such a boy!" Bibi was the picture of pathetic resignation. Bobint was the embodiment of serious solicitude as he strove to remove from his own person and his son's the signs of their tramp over heavy roads and through wet fields. He scraped the mud off Bibi's bare legs and feet with a stick and carefully removed all traces from his heavy brogans. Then, prepared for the worst the meeting with an over-scrupulous housewife, they entered cautiously at the back door.

Calixta was preparing supper. She had set the table and was dripping coffee at the hearth. She sprang up as they came in.

"Oh, Bobint! You back! My! But I was uneasy. W'ere you been during the rain? An' Bibi? he ain't wet? he ain't hurt?" She had clasped Bibi and was kissing him effusively. Bobint's explanations and apologies which he had been composing all along the way, died on his lips as Calixta felt him to see if he were dry, and seemed to express nothing but satisfaction at their safe return.

"I brought you some shrimps, Calixta," offered Bobint, hauling the can from his ample side pocket and laying it on the table.

"Shrimps! Oh, Bobint! you too good fo' anything!" and she gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek that resounded, "J'vous rponds, we'll have a feas' to-night! umph-umph!"

Bobint and Bibi began to relax and enjoy themselves, and when the three seated themselves at table they laughed much and so loud that anyone might have heard them as far away as Laballire's.

IV

Alce Laballire wrote to his wife, Clarisse, that night. It was a loving letter, full of tender solicitude. He told her not to hurry back, but if she and the babies liked it at Biloxi, to stay a month longer. He was getting on nicely; and though he missed them, he was willing to bear the separation a while longerrealizing that their health and pleasure were the first things to be considered.

V

As for Clarisse, she was charmed upon receiving her husband's letter. She and the babies were doing well. The society was agreeable; many of her old friends and acquaintances were at the bay. And the first free breath since her marriage seemed to restore the pleasant liberty of her maiden days. Devoted as she was to her husband, their intimate conjugal life was something which she was more than willing to forego for a while.

So the storm passed and every one was happy.