最后一夜（作者：雷·布雷德伯里 翻译：夏笳）
老布的The Last Night of the World，据说也是被各种美国中小学教材选入的名篇了，但网上粗粗一搜，竟没找到靠谱的中译版，甚至连英文版也有好多是不全的。
篇幅很短，所以很快就翻完了，不打算卖，就这么贴出来跟大家分享吧，欢迎转载，更欢迎挑虫~
对Ent老师的神级挑虫致以最诚挚的感谢~
——————————————————————————
最后一夜
雷·布雷德伯里 翻译：夏笳
“如果今夜之后就是世界末日，你会想要怎么做？”
“我会怎么做？你说真的吗？”
“是的，很认真。”
“不知道，我没想过。”
男人倒了些咖啡。身后不远处，两个小女孩在客厅地毯上玩着积木，防风灯绿溶溶的光芒洒在她们身上。夜晚空气中，煮咖啡的香气袅袅升腾，又醇又香。
“好吧，也许现在开始想还不算迟。”他说。
“你不是想说……”
男人点点头。
“战争？”
他摇摇头。
“氢弹，还是原子弹？”
“不是。”
“还是细菌战？”
“都不是。”男人一面说，一面缓缓搅着咖啡。“只不过是，怎么说呢……好像一本书，终于翻到最后一页。”
“我不明白。”
“不，说实在话，我也不明白。我只是有那么一种感觉。有时候，那种感觉让我害怕，有时候我却一点也不怕，心里面很平静。”他看了一眼玩耍的女孩们，她们黄闪闪的头发在灯下发光。“之前我什么都没跟你说过，四天之前那个晚上，我第一次开始有感觉。”
“什么感觉？”
“一个梦。我做了一个梦，梦见一切都要完了，有一个声音告诉我，世界末日要来了。不是我所熟悉的任何人的声音，但无论如何，是有那么一个声音，它对我说，地球上的一切都走到了终结。起初我并没当真，第二天起来照常去上班，直到下午，我看见斯丹·威利斯坐在那儿看着窗户外面，我说嘿斯丹，一个硬币买你现在心里想的，他对我说，昨晚他做了一个梦，还没等他告诉我具体内容，我就知道那是什么梦了。我本来可以告诉他我知道，但最终还是没说，他跟我讲他的梦，我在一旁听着。”
“同一个梦？”
“同一个梦。我告诉斯丹我也梦见了，他看上去一点也不吃惊。或者不如说，他反而放松了不少。然后我们一起在办公室里走，该死的办公室。谁也没商量过，谁也没说：‘咱们四处走走怎么样。’我们两个就那么不约而同站起来，四处地走，人们一个个坐在那儿盯着办公桌看，要么盯着自己的手看，要么盯着窗户外面看。我找到其中几个说了说话，斯丹也找了几个人。”
“结果呢，他们全都做了梦吗？”
“全都做了梦。同一个梦，一模一样。”
“你相信吗？”
“相信，我从来没这么相信过。”
“什么时候呢？我是说，世界末日。”
“对我们来说，会在今天夜里什么时候。然后它会随着黑夜一点一点蔓延到全世界其他地方，将它们吞噬。二十四小时之后，一切都会彻底结束。”
他们坐在那儿好一阵，没有人碰面前的咖啡。终于，他们把咖啡慢慢端起来，一边啜饮，一边看着对方。
“是我们罪有应得吗？”女人问。
“不，跟罪或者罚都没关系，只是到了该结束的时候。可是你，你听了这些话，却连个‘不’字都没有。为什么？”
“或许，我有我的原因吧。”女人回答。
“跟办公室里那些人一样的原因吗？”
女人缓缓点头。“本来也不想讲的，我是昨天晚上做的梦。今天，整个街区的女人们都在议论，她们全都做了梦。我本来以为那不过是个巧合罢了。”她拿起一张晚报，“毕竟，报纸上什么都没写。”
“既然每个人都知道，也就没必要写了。”
男人坐回椅子里，看着妻子。“你怕吗？”
“不怕。我以前总觉得自己会怕，可真来了却不怕。”
“不是常说，人在大难临头的时候应该有自我保护的本能吗，为什么这会儿却一点反应也没有？”
“不知道。如果感觉到事情合情合理，你就不会太仓皇了吧。就好像世界末日这件事，沿着我们脚下这条路一直往下走，也只可能走到这一步，这就很合理。”
“我们走的路并没有那么糟糕，对吧？”
“没那么糟糕，也没有多完美，我想这才是问题所在吧——我们不过是我们自己罢了。这世界这么大，随时随地发生那么多翻天覆地的大事，相比之下，我们没什么了不起。”
女孩子们在客厅里发出笑声。
“我一直以为世界末日来临前，大街上会挤满各种各样尖叫的人。”
“我想不会有人叫的。真真切切会发生的事，有什么可叫的呢。”
“知道吗，除了你和那两个小丫头，我没有什么丢不下的。这些城市，这份工作，我从没爱过它们，唯有你们三个不一样。或许还有四季风景的变迁，或许还有三伏天里一杯冰水的滋味，我会怀念它们的，或许还有一夕酣眠。为什么，为什么我们还可以坐在这儿，像这样子说话？”
“因为没有别的事可以做吧。”
“是的，一定是。如果还有别的事能做，我们就会去做了。我想这大概是人类历史上头一次，每个人都知道自己要如何度过这个夜晚。”
“我在想，不知道其他人在做些什么，今夜，最后几个小时。”
“去看表演，去听广播，去看电视，或者玩牌，或者送孩子上床去睡觉，然后自己也去睡觉，一切如常。”
“能做到一切如常，也挺值得骄傲呢。”
他们默默坐了一会儿，然后男人又为自己倒了一杯咖啡。
“你想过吗，为什么会是今晚？”
“总有原因吧。”
“为什么不是上世纪的某个夜晚，为什么不是五百年前，为什么不是一千年前？”
“也许因为时辰未到，1969年10月19日，这一天不在过去，只在今朝；也许因为这个日子比人类历史上任何一个日子都意味深长；也许直到此时此刻，这世界上的万事万物才变成这幅模样，于是一切也就到此结束。”
“今夜依旧会有轰炸机隔着大洋两岸遥遥对峙吧，不过它们再也没可能抵达目的地了。”
“或许这也是末日降临的原因之一呢。”
“好吧。”男人一边说，一边站起身来，“接下来该干什么，洗盘子？”
他们一起洗盘子，洗得干干净净，然后摞成一叠，比往日还要整齐些。八点半，送两个小姑娘上床睡觉，依次亲吻，道过晚安。床头留了两盏小灯，卧室门留了一条缝。
丈夫叼着烟斗在那里站了一会儿，然后回头望了一眼卧室的门。
“我想……”他说。
“怎么了？”
“是应该把门全关上好，还是应该留个缝透点光亮好。”
“我在想，不知道孩子们知不知道。”
“哦不，当然不知道。”
他们坐下来看了几页报纸，聊了几句闲话，听了几首广播里的曲子，然后他们肩并肩坐在壁炉前，默默望着半明半暗的炭火，钟表在墙上滴滴答答，十点半，十一点，十一点半。他们想着世界上其他的人，形形色色的人，正在用他们各自的方式度过这个夜晚。
“哎。”男人终于开口说。
他吻着妻子，很久很久。
“至少，我们有好好善待彼此。”
“想哭吗，你？”男人问。
“不太想。”
他们走过整座房子，关掉所有灯，然后进了卧室，黑浸浸的夜色如水一般清爽。他们站在那里脱掉衣服，将床罩拉开。“多好啊，床单又滑又凉。”
“我好累了。”
“我也累了。”
他们爬上床，躺平。
“等一下。”她突然说。
他听到她起来，下床，进了厨房。过一会儿她回来，说：“我忘了，厨房的水龙头还在滴水。”
这一刻实在好笑，于是男人笑了起来。她也跟着笑了，心里知道自己刚刚的所作所为有多好笑。最终他们不笑了，又滑又凉的床单上，两人并排躺着，手扣着手，头挨着头。
“晚安。”过了一会儿他说。
“晚安。”她也说。
<完>
————————下——面——有——原——文—————————
The Last Night of the World
“WHAT would you do if you knew that this was the last night of the world?”
“What would I do? You mean seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought.”
He poured some coffee. In the background the two girls were playing blocks on the
parlor rug in the light of the green hurricane lamps. There was an easy, clean aroma of
the brewed coffee in the evening air.
“Well, better start thinking about it,” he said.
“You don’t mean it!”
He nodded.
“A war?”
He shook his head.
“Not the hydrogen or atom bomb?”
“No.”
“Or germ warfare?”
“None of those at all,” he said, stirring his coffee slowly. “But just, let’s say, the closing
of a book.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“No, nor do I, really; it’s just a feeling. Sometimes it frightens me, sometimes I’m not
frightened at all but at peace.” He glanced in at the girls and their yellow hair shining in
the lamplight. “I didn’t say anything to you. It first happened about four nights ago.”
“What?”
“A dream I had. I dreamed that it was all going to be over, and a voice said it was; not
any kind of voice I can remember, but a voice anyway, and it said things would stop here
on Earth. I didn’t think too much about it the next day, but then I went to the office and
caught Stan Willis looking out the window in the middle of the afternoon, and I said a
penny for your thoughts, Stan, and he said, I had a dream last night, and before he even
told me the dream I knew what it was. I could have told him, but he told me and I
listened to him.”
“It was the same dream?”
“The same. I told Stan I had dreamed it too. He didn’t seem surprised. He relaxed, in
fact. Then we started walking through the office, for the hell of it. It wasn’t planned. We
didn’t say, ‘Let’s walk around.’ We just walked on our own, and everywhere we saw
people looking at their desks or their hands or out windows. I talked to a few. So did
Stan.”
“And they all had dreamed?”
“All of them. The same dream, with no difference.”
“Do you believe in it?”
“Yes. I’ve never been more certain.”
“And when will it stop? The world, I mean.”
“Sometime during the night for us, and then as the night goes on around the world,
that’ll go too. It’ll take twenty-four hours for it all to go.”
They sat awhile not touching their coffee. Then they lifted it slowly and drank, looking
at each other.
“Do we deserve this?” she said.
“It’s not a matter of deserving; it’s just that things didn’t work out. I notice you didn’t
even argue about this. Why not?”
“I guess I’ve a reason,” she said.
“The same one everyone at the office had?”
She nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to say anything. It happened last night. And the
women on the block talked about it, among themselves, today. They dreamed. I thought
it was only a coincidence.” She picked up the evening paper. “There’s nothing in the
paper about it.”
“Everyone knows, so there’s no need.”
He sat back in his chair, watching her. “Are you afraid?”
“No. I always thought I would be, but I’m not.”
“Where’s that spirit called self-preservation they talk so much about?”
“I don’t know. You don’t get too excited when you feel things are logical. This is
logical. Nothing else but this could have happened from the way we’ve lived.”
“We haven’t been too bad, have we?”
“No, nor enormously good. I suppose that’s the trouble—we haven’t been very much of
anything except us, while a big part of the world was busy being lots of quite awful
things.”
The girls were laughing in the parlor.
“I always thought people would be screaming in the streets at a time like this.”
“I guess not. You don’t scream about the real thing.”
“Do you know, I won’t miss anything but you and the girls. I never liked cities or my
work or anything except you three. I won’t miss a thing except perhaps the change in the
weather, and a glass of ice water when it’s hot, and I might miss sleeping. How can we
sit here and talk this way?”
“Because there’s nothing else to do.”
“That’s it, of course; for if there were, we’d be doing it. I suppose this is the first time in
the history of the world that everyone has known just what they were going to do during
the night.”
“I wonder what everyone else will do now, this evening, for the next few hours.”
“Go to a show, listen to the radio, watch television, play cards, put the children to bed,
go to bed themselves, like always.”
“In a way that’s something to be proud of—like always.”
They sat a moment and then he poured himself another coffee. “Why do you suppose
it’s tonight?”
“Because.”
“Why not some other night in the last century, or five centuries ago, or ten?”
“Maybe it’s because it was never October 19, 1969, ever before in history, and now it is
and that’s it; because this date means more than any other date ever meant; because it’s
the year when things are as they are all over the world and that’s why it’s the end.”
“There are bombers on their schedules both ways across the ocean tonight that’ll never
see land.”
“That’s part of the reason why.”
“Well,” he said, getting up, “what shall it be? Wash the dishes?”
They washed the dishes and stacked them away with special neatness. At eight-thirty
the girls were put to bed and kissed good night and the little lights by their beds turned
on and the door left open just a trifle.
“I wonder,” said the husband, coming from the bedroom and glancing back, standing
there with his pipe for a moment.
“What?”
“If the door will be shut all the way, or if it’ll be left just a little ajar so some light
comes in.”
“I wonder if the children know.”
“No, of course not.”
They sat and read the papers and talked and listened to some radio music and then sat
together by the fireplace watching the charcoal embers as the clock struck ten-thirty and
eleven and eleven-thirty. They thought of all the other people in the world who had spent
their evening, each in his own special way.
“Well,” he said at last.
He kissed his wife for a long time.
“We’ve been good for each other, anyway.”
“Do you want to cry?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
They moved through the house and turned out the lights and went into the bedroom and
stood in the night cool darkness undressing and pushing back the covers. “The sheets are
so clean and nice.”
“I’m tired.”
“We’re all tired.”
They got into bed and lay back.
“Just a moment,” she said.
He heard her get out of bed and go into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned. “I left
the water running in the sink,” she said.
Something about this was so very funny that he had to laugh. She laughed with him,
knowing what it was that she had done that was funny. They stopped laughing at last and
lay in their cool night bed, their hands clasped, their heads together.
“Good night,” he said, after a moment.
“Good night,” she said.
篇幅很短，所以很快就翻完了，不打算卖，就这么贴出来跟大家分享吧，欢迎转载，更欢迎挑虫~
对Ent老师的神级挑虫致以最诚挚的感谢~
——————————————————————————
 |
最后一夜
雷·布雷德伯里 翻译：夏笳
“如果今夜之后就是世界末日，你会想要怎么做？”
“我会怎么做？你说真的吗？”
“是的，很认真。”
“不知道，我没想过。”
男人倒了些咖啡。身后不远处，两个小女孩在客厅地毯上玩着积木，防风灯绿溶溶的光芒洒在她们身上。夜晚空气中，煮咖啡的香气袅袅升腾，又醇又香。
“好吧，也许现在开始想还不算迟。”他说。
“你不是想说……”
男人点点头。
“战争？”
他摇摇头。
“氢弹，还是原子弹？”
“不是。”
“还是细菌战？”
“都不是。”男人一面说，一面缓缓搅着咖啡。“只不过是，怎么说呢……好像一本书，终于翻到最后一页。”
“我不明白。”
“不，说实在话，我也不明白。我只是有那么一种感觉。有时候，那种感觉让我害怕，有时候我却一点也不怕，心里面很平静。”他看了一眼玩耍的女孩们，她们黄闪闪的头发在灯下发光。“之前我什么都没跟你说过，四天之前那个晚上，我第一次开始有感觉。”
“什么感觉？”
“一个梦。我做了一个梦，梦见一切都要完了，有一个声音告诉我，世界末日要来了。不是我所熟悉的任何人的声音，但无论如何，是有那么一个声音，它对我说，地球上的一切都走到了终结。起初我并没当真，第二天起来照常去上班，直到下午，我看见斯丹·威利斯坐在那儿看着窗户外面，我说嘿斯丹，一个硬币买你现在心里想的，他对我说，昨晚他做了一个梦，还没等他告诉我具体内容，我就知道那是什么梦了。我本来可以告诉他我知道，但最终还是没说，他跟我讲他的梦，我在一旁听着。”
“同一个梦？”
“同一个梦。我告诉斯丹我也梦见了，他看上去一点也不吃惊。或者不如说，他反而放松了不少。然后我们一起在办公室里走，该死的办公室。谁也没商量过，谁也没说：‘咱们四处走走怎么样。’我们两个就那么不约而同站起来，四处地走，人们一个个坐在那儿盯着办公桌看，要么盯着自己的手看，要么盯着窗户外面看。我找到其中几个说了说话，斯丹也找了几个人。”
“结果呢，他们全都做了梦吗？”
“全都做了梦。同一个梦，一模一样。”
“你相信吗？”
“相信，我从来没这么相信过。”
“什么时候呢？我是说，世界末日。”
“对我们来说，会在今天夜里什么时候。然后它会随着黑夜一点一点蔓延到全世界其他地方，将它们吞噬。二十四小时之后，一切都会彻底结束。”
他们坐在那儿好一阵，没有人碰面前的咖啡。终于，他们把咖啡慢慢端起来，一边啜饮，一边看着对方。
“是我们罪有应得吗？”女人问。
“不，跟罪或者罚都没关系，只是到了该结束的时候。可是你，你听了这些话，却连个‘不’字都没有。为什么？”
“或许，我有我的原因吧。”女人回答。
“跟办公室里那些人一样的原因吗？”
女人缓缓点头。“本来也不想讲的，我是昨天晚上做的梦。今天，整个街区的女人们都在议论，她们全都做了梦。我本来以为那不过是个巧合罢了。”她拿起一张晚报，“毕竟，报纸上什么都没写。”
“既然每个人都知道，也就没必要写了。”
男人坐回椅子里，看着妻子。“你怕吗？”
“不怕。我以前总觉得自己会怕，可真来了却不怕。”
“不是常说，人在大难临头的时候应该有自我保护的本能吗，为什么这会儿却一点反应也没有？”
“不知道。如果感觉到事情合情合理，你就不会太仓皇了吧。就好像世界末日这件事，沿着我们脚下这条路一直往下走，也只可能走到这一步，这就很合理。”
“我们走的路并没有那么糟糕，对吧？”
“没那么糟糕，也没有多完美，我想这才是问题所在吧——我们不过是我们自己罢了。这世界这么大，随时随地发生那么多翻天覆地的大事，相比之下，我们没什么了不起。”
女孩子们在客厅里发出笑声。
“我一直以为世界末日来临前，大街上会挤满各种各样尖叫的人。”
“我想不会有人叫的。真真切切会发生的事，有什么可叫的呢。”
“知道吗，除了你和那两个小丫头，我没有什么丢不下的。这些城市，这份工作，我从没爱过它们，唯有你们三个不一样。或许还有四季风景的变迁，或许还有三伏天里一杯冰水的滋味，我会怀念它们的，或许还有一夕酣眠。为什么，为什么我们还可以坐在这儿，像这样子说话？”
“因为没有别的事可以做吧。”
“是的，一定是。如果还有别的事能做，我们就会去做了。我想这大概是人类历史上头一次，每个人都知道自己要如何度过这个夜晚。”
“我在想，不知道其他人在做些什么，今夜，最后几个小时。”
“去看表演，去听广播，去看电视，或者玩牌，或者送孩子上床去睡觉，然后自己也去睡觉，一切如常。”
“能做到一切如常，也挺值得骄傲呢。”
他们默默坐了一会儿，然后男人又为自己倒了一杯咖啡。
“你想过吗，为什么会是今晚？”
“总有原因吧。”
“为什么不是上世纪的某个夜晚，为什么不是五百年前，为什么不是一千年前？”
“也许因为时辰未到，1969年10月19日，这一天不在过去，只在今朝；也许因为这个日子比人类历史上任何一个日子都意味深长；也许直到此时此刻，这世界上的万事万物才变成这幅模样，于是一切也就到此结束。”
“今夜依旧会有轰炸机隔着大洋两岸遥遥对峙吧，不过它们再也没可能抵达目的地了。”
“或许这也是末日降临的原因之一呢。”
“好吧。”男人一边说，一边站起身来，“接下来该干什么，洗盘子？”
他们一起洗盘子，洗得干干净净，然后摞成一叠，比往日还要整齐些。八点半，送两个小姑娘上床睡觉，依次亲吻，道过晚安。床头留了两盏小灯，卧室门留了一条缝。
丈夫叼着烟斗在那里站了一会儿，然后回头望了一眼卧室的门。
“我想……”他说。
“怎么了？”
“是应该把门全关上好，还是应该留个缝透点光亮好。”
“我在想，不知道孩子们知不知道。”
“哦不，当然不知道。”
他们坐下来看了几页报纸，聊了几句闲话，听了几首广播里的曲子，然后他们肩并肩坐在壁炉前，默默望着半明半暗的炭火，钟表在墙上滴滴答答，十点半，十一点，十一点半。他们想着世界上其他的人，形形色色的人，正在用他们各自的方式度过这个夜晚。
“哎。”男人终于开口说。
他吻着妻子，很久很久。
“至少，我们有好好善待彼此。”
“想哭吗，你？”男人问。
“不太想。”
他们走过整座房子，关掉所有灯，然后进了卧室，黑浸浸的夜色如水一般清爽。他们站在那里脱掉衣服，将床罩拉开。“多好啊，床单又滑又凉。”
“我好累了。”
“我也累了。”
他们爬上床，躺平。
“等一下。”她突然说。
他听到她起来，下床，进了厨房。过一会儿她回来，说：“我忘了，厨房的水龙头还在滴水。”
这一刻实在好笑，于是男人笑了起来。她也跟着笑了，心里知道自己刚刚的所作所为有多好笑。最终他们不笑了，又滑又凉的床单上，两人并排躺着，手扣着手，头挨着头。
“晚安。”过了一会儿他说。
“晚安。”她也说。
<完>
————————下——面——有——原——文—————————
The Last Night of the World
“WHAT would you do if you knew that this was the last night of the world?”
“What would I do? You mean seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought.”
He poured some coffee. In the background the two girls were playing blocks on the
parlor rug in the light of the green hurricane lamps. There was an easy, clean aroma of
the brewed coffee in the evening air.
“Well, better start thinking about it,” he said.
“You don’t mean it!”
He nodded.
“A war?”
He shook his head.
“Not the hydrogen or atom bomb?”
“No.”
“Or germ warfare?”
“None of those at all,” he said, stirring his coffee slowly. “But just, let’s say, the closing
of a book.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“No, nor do I, really; it’s just a feeling. Sometimes it frightens me, sometimes I’m not
frightened at all but at peace.” He glanced in at the girls and their yellow hair shining in
the lamplight. “I didn’t say anything to you. It first happened about four nights ago.”
“What?”
“A dream I had. I dreamed that it was all going to be over, and a voice said it was; not
any kind of voice I can remember, but a voice anyway, and it said things would stop here
on Earth. I didn’t think too much about it the next day, but then I went to the office and
caught Stan Willis looking out the window in the middle of the afternoon, and I said a
penny for your thoughts, Stan, and he said, I had a dream last night, and before he even
told me the dream I knew what it was. I could have told him, but he told me and I
listened to him.”
“It was the same dream?”
“The same. I told Stan I had dreamed it too. He didn’t seem surprised. He relaxed, in
fact. Then we started walking through the office, for the hell of it. It wasn’t planned. We
didn’t say, ‘Let’s walk around.’ We just walked on our own, and everywhere we saw
people looking at their desks or their hands or out windows. I talked to a few. So did
Stan.”
“And they all had dreamed?”
“All of them. The same dream, with no difference.”
“Do you believe in it?”
“Yes. I’ve never been more certain.”
“And when will it stop? The world, I mean.”
“Sometime during the night for us, and then as the night goes on around the world,
that’ll go too. It’ll take twenty-four hours for it all to go.”
They sat awhile not touching their coffee. Then they lifted it slowly and drank, looking
at each other.
“Do we deserve this?” she said.
“It’s not a matter of deserving; it’s just that things didn’t work out. I notice you didn’t
even argue about this. Why not?”
“I guess I’ve a reason,” she said.
“The same one everyone at the office had?”
She nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to say anything. It happened last night. And the
women on the block talked about it, among themselves, today. They dreamed. I thought
it was only a coincidence.” She picked up the evening paper. “There’s nothing in the
paper about it.”
“Everyone knows, so there’s no need.”
He sat back in his chair, watching her. “Are you afraid?”
“No. I always thought I would be, but I’m not.”
“Where’s that spirit called self-preservation they talk so much about?”
“I don’t know. You don’t get too excited when you feel things are logical. This is
logical. Nothing else but this could have happened from the way we’ve lived.”
“We haven’t been too bad, have we?”
“No, nor enormously good. I suppose that’s the trouble—we haven’t been very much of
anything except us, while a big part of the world was busy being lots of quite awful
things.”
The girls were laughing in the parlor.
“I always thought people would be screaming in the streets at a time like this.”
“I guess not. You don’t scream about the real thing.”
“Do you know, I won’t miss anything but you and the girls. I never liked cities or my
work or anything except you three. I won’t miss a thing except perhaps the change in the
weather, and a glass of ice water when it’s hot, and I might miss sleeping. How can we
sit here and talk this way?”
“Because there’s nothing else to do.”
“That’s it, of course; for if there were, we’d be doing it. I suppose this is the first time in
the history of the world that everyone has known just what they were going to do during
the night.”
“I wonder what everyone else will do now, this evening, for the next few hours.”
“Go to a show, listen to the radio, watch television, play cards, put the children to bed,
go to bed themselves, like always.”
“In a way that’s something to be proud of—like always.”
They sat a moment and then he poured himself another coffee. “Why do you suppose
it’s tonight?”
“Because.”
“Why not some other night in the last century, or five centuries ago, or ten?”
“Maybe it’s because it was never October 19, 1969, ever before in history, and now it is
and that’s it; because this date means more than any other date ever meant; because it’s
the year when things are as they are all over the world and that’s why it’s the end.”
“There are bombers on their schedules both ways across the ocean tonight that’ll never
see land.”
“That’s part of the reason why.”
“Well,” he said, getting up, “what shall it be? Wash the dishes?”
They washed the dishes and stacked them away with special neatness. At eight-thirty
the girls were put to bed and kissed good night and the little lights by their beds turned
on and the door left open just a trifle.
“I wonder,” said the husband, coming from the bedroom and glancing back, standing
there with his pipe for a moment.
“What?”
“If the door will be shut all the way, or if it’ll be left just a little ajar so some light
comes in.”
“I wonder if the children know.”
“No, of course not.”
They sat and read the papers and talked and listened to some radio music and then sat
together by the fireplace watching the charcoal embers as the clock struck ten-thirty and
eleven and eleven-thirty. They thought of all the other people in the world who had spent
their evening, each in his own special way.
“Well,” he said at last.
He kissed his wife for a long time.
“We’ve been good for each other, anyway.”
“Do you want to cry?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
They moved through the house and turned out the lights and went into the bedroom and
stood in the night cool darkness undressing and pushing back the covers. “The sheets are
so clean and nice.”
“I’m tired.”
“We’re all tired.”
They got into bed and lay back.
“Just a moment,” she said.
He heard her get out of bed and go into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned. “I left
the water running in the sink,” she said.
Something about this was so very funny that he had to laugh. She laughed with him,
knowing what it was that she had done that was funny. They stopped laughing at last and
lay in their cool night bed, their hands clasped, their heads together.
“Good night,” he said, after a moment.
“Good night,” she said.
