"I'd like a shower. Tiring day," say Flyboy.
Then Sugar surprises me by sayin, "You know, Miss Moore, I don't think
all of us here put together eat in a _vearwhat that sailboat costs." And Miss
Moore lights up like somebody goosed her. "And?" she say, urging Sugar on.
Only I'm standin on her foot so she don't continue.
..Imagine
for a minute rr'hatkincl oť.socieNit is in v'lriclr some people can so
spend on a to1'what it would cost to feed a family of six or seven.Vhat do you
think?"
"I think," say Sugar pushing me off her feet like she never done before.
cause I whip her ass in a minute, "that this is not much of a democrary if vou
ask rne. Equal chance to pursue happiness means an equal crack at the d()ugh,
don't it?" Miss Moore is besides herself and I am clisgusteclv/ith Sugar'streachery. So I snnd on her foot one more time to see if she'll shove me. She shus
up, and Miss Moore looks at me, sorrowfullv I'm thinkin. And somethin weird
is goin on, I can feel it in mv chest.
"Anyboclyelse learn an\thing toclay?"lookin dead at me. I walk awav and
Sugar has to run to catch up and don't even seem to notice when I shrug her
arm off my shoulder.
"Well, we got four dollars an)'ll?\',"she savs.
"Uh hunh."
..\ře
could go to Hascombs and get half a chocolate laver arrd then go to ''
the Sunset and still have plenn'monev ftrr potato chips ancl ice cream sodas,"
"Un hunh."
"Race you to Hascombs,"she say.
V'e stan clown the block ancl she gets aheadwhich is O.K. by me causeI'm
goir'rgto the Vest Errd and tlren over to the DÍi\'eto think this dav through.She
can run if she want to and even run faster.But ain't nobody gonna beat me at
nuthin.
KATE CHOPIN ( 185r- 1904)
Tbe Story oÍ an Hour
:ti9
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great carewa
taken to break to her as plentlvas possible the news of her husbaud's death.
It was her sisterJosephine who told her, irr brokerr sentences;veiled hint
that revealed in half concealing.Her husband's friencJRichards was there.to
near her. It rvas he who had been in the newspaperoffice when intelligenceof
the railroad disasterwas received,q.it['rBrentlv Mallard's name leading thelts
of "killed." He had only taken the time to assure I'rimselfof its truth by a secon
telegram, and hacl ha-stenedto forestall any less careful, less tender friendin
bearing tl.resad message.
She dicl not hear the story as many women have heard the same, witha
paralyzedinability to accept its significance.She wept at onceJwith sudden,sild
abandonment,in her sister'.sarms. Whc'r.r
the storm of grief had spent itselfsh
went away to her room alone. She wcluld have no one follow her.
J44 A Collection of Stories
II
this shr
seeme(
sh
were al
the air.
song wl
wefe tw
The
that had
She
motionle
child wh,
She
even a ce
was fixed
glance of
Ther,
rVhat was
felt it, cre
scenLs,the
Nolv
r
nize thi.srh
it back witt
been.
W'hen
parted lips.
vacant .stafe
srayed keen
and relaxecl
She clic
her. Á clear
rrivial.
She kne
folded in tle:
and grav anci
of years to c
spread her ar
There w
would live fo
blind persiste
pose a private
made the act..
of illuminatir>
And vet s
matterl $7hat c,
sion of self_ass
of her beingl
"Free! Iloc
There stoocl, facing the open window, a comfr.rnable, roomv armchair. Into
ňis she sank, pressed clclt,n bv a phvsical exhausticln tlrat l.raur.rtedlrer bodv arrd
seemedto reach ir.ttoher soul.
She could see in the open .square Lref<rreher house the tr4rs r>ftrees that
wereall aqr"riverwith the ne\\r spring life. The delicious breath of rain u''zrsir.r
theair.In the street below a peclclier was cn'ing his wares. The n()tes of a distant
songwhich some ()ne nas singing reached her fuintly, and countless sparrou's
weretli'ittering in the eaves.
he re and there through the ck>uds
There q'ere patcl-resof blue skv sl-urwir-rg
thathad met ancl pilecl one abo'u,ethe other in the west facing her winckru'.
She sat witl'r her head tlrrowrr back upon the cr.rshion of the cl'rair, quitc
motionless,except when a sob came up intcl her throat ancl shoclk her, as a
tr>sob in ils clreams.
childwho has cried itself to sleep cr>r.rtinues
She was voung' rr-ith a fair, cirlm Íace,s''h<lselines besprlke repressicln ancl
evena certain strength. But r-towthere \\,'asa dr.rll stare irr her eves, whose gazc
washxed awav off vonder on onc clf those patches of blue sh'. lt q'as uot a
glancecrťreflection, but rather indicated a suspensícx-ttlf irrtelliger.rttlr<lught.
There rvas sornething ctlmitrg rcl her and she l'.as l'n'aitir.rg
ftlr it, féarful]r''
\lhatn'as it'l She clid not know; it was loo subtle ancl elusive to nalne. But she
feltit, creelring out of ttre skr.',reaching tovu'arclher tl-rlougl'r tlre souncis, thc
the color that hlled the air.
scenls,
Ntlrr.her bt>.st)nrrose ancl fcll ttlnltrltLrtltrsll.'She rr'as bcgirrninÍ] t() rec(Enizethis thir"rgthat was approachir-rg to possess l'rer, ancl she w'as striving t() bcat
pou,erless as her two white slencler l'ranclsw'ould have
itbackrvithher will-as
been.
Y'' r:n she abandoned herself a Iittle u,hispered u'ord cscapecl her slightlv
panedlips. She saici it over and over uncler her breath: "frec, frec, free!" The
vacant
stare ancl the lcxrk of terror that hacl folkrwed it we nt front her evcs. Thev
swtd keerl and llriglrt. Her pulses beat Ílrst,ancl thc ctlursing llltxld n.artned
andrelltxecle."'en.íllch clf l-rer b<ltlr'.
jctv tlrat helcl
She clid n()t stoP tcl ask if it u'ere ()r wefc not a ÍI()nstr<lr.ts
her.A clear and exaltecl percepti()n enablecl her tr>clisnriss the srrggestion as
rivial.
She knew that sl-rewould wecp again n'hcn she saw tlie kincl, tendcr hancl.s
foldcdin cleath; the Íace that had never lcxlkecl save rvith lclr'e upclI-lher, hxecl
andgrav ancl dead. But she saw bei'ond that l)itter mon)ent a krng proccssiorr
0f \,earsto come that woulcl l>elong to her absolutel'n'.Ancl shc openecl ancl
spreadher arnls out to them in rvelconre.
TIiere u'ould be no one t<-llive frrr hcr cluring tliose conring vcars: shc
wouldlive for herself. l'here wrrulcl be nr>pr>werfll vvill benciing hers in ttrat
blindpersistence witl-r which men and vu'omen believe thei' have a right to inrposea private will upon a felkxv-creatlrre. A kincl intcntion or a cruel (rrtcntitrn
1t)
madetlre act seeln tltl less a crittre as she ltlokecl up<ln ít in that llriel In()Illellt
ofillumination.
And vet sl're lracl loved him - sometimes. Often she l-raclnot. \Vhat dicl it
\{'hzrtcor.rlcllove, the unsolvecl mvsten', count fi)r in f'ace ol tl-rispossesmaner!
sionof self-asserticin wi.rich she suciclenl,vrecogrrizccl as thc stron.gest inrplrlsc
ofherbeing!
"Freel Boclv and soul fiee!" slie kept rvhispering.
ChopirÝTl-re Stor-v of an Hotrr 345
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyl-role, imploring tirr acirnis.siorr."l.ouise, ()pen the door! I beg; open the door1,ou will rnake vourself ill. What lrrt: vou doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open
the door."
..Go
away' I am not making rnyselťill.,. No; she was drinking in a very elixir
of life through that open window.
Her fancv was rlrnning riot along those cla1,sahead of her. Spring da,vs,and
sumlner clavs, and all sorts of davs that rvoulcl be her own. She breathed a quick
praYer that lit-e miglit be lor.rg. lt wa-s <tnlr' 1,esterda1, she had thttught with a
shuclcler that life migl.rt be long.
She nrose at length ancl operreci the cloor to her sister's irnponunities. There
was a feverish triuml>l'r in her eves, and sher carried herself unwittingll' like a
goddess of Victory'. She clasped her sister's waist, and together thev descended
the stairs. Richarcls stood waiting for them at the bottom.
Sonre one n'as opening the ttont docir n'ith a latcltke't'.It n'a.s Brentlv Mallarcl who entered, a little travel-stained, composedl,v carrving his gripsack and
urnbrella. He had beerr far Íit-lmtlre scene oť accident, arrd dicl not even know
there hacl been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's piercing cry; at Richards'
ouick mtxion t() Scrcc.n hinr írorn the r'iew o| lris rr.ife.
But Richards was to<>late.
Vher.r the cloctor-s came thev saicl she had died of heart clisease - of iov
that kills.
J4ó
A (illlccti(,n of Storics