Waiting for the Breeze
马蒂·阿通 / Marti Attoun
“No air conditioning？ How can you sleep？” a friend asks， horrified. I’ve just revealed that my family has decided to shut the air conditioner off and trim our electric bill.
“Nobody opens a window， day or night，” warns another friend， whose windows have been painted shut for a decade. “This is the 90s. It’s not safe.”
On this first night of our cost-cutting adventure， it’s only 85 degrees. We’re not going to suffer， but the three kids grumble anyway. They’ve grown up in 72-degree comfort， insulated from the world outside.
“How do you open these windows？” my husband asks. Jiggling the metal tabs， he finally releases one. A potpourri of bug bodies decorates the sills. As we spring the windows one by one， the night noises howl outside—and in.
“It’s too hot to sleep，” my 13-year-old daughter moans.
“I’m about to die from this heat，” her brother hollers down the hall.
“Just try it tonight，” I tell them.
In truth I’m too tired to argue for long. I’m exhausted after attending Grandma’s estate auction. I toted home her oval tin bathtub and the chair I once stood on like a big shot behind the counter of her store.
My face is sweaty， but I lie quietly listening to the cricket choirs outside that remind me of childhood. The neighbor’s dog howls. Probably a trespassing squirrel. It’s been years since I’ve taken the time to really listen to the night.
I think about Grandma， who lived to 92 and still supervised Mom’s gardening until just a few weeks before she died. And then， I’m back there at her house in the summer heat of my childhood. I move my pillow to the foot of Grandma’s bed and angle my face toward the open window. I flip the pillow， hunting for the cooler side.
Grandma sees me thrashing. “If you’ll just watch for the breeze，” she says， “you’ll cool off and fall asleep.”
She cranks up the Venetian blinds. I stare at the filmy white curtain， willing it to flutter. Lying still， waiting， I suddenly， notice the life outside the window. The bug chorus shouts “Ajooga！ Ajooga！” Neighbors， porch-sitting late， speak in hazy words that soothe me.
“Keep watching for the breeze，” Grandma says softly， and I “uhhuh” in reply. June bugs ping the screen. Three blocks away the Friso train rumbles across Roosevelt Avenue. I catch the scent of fresh grass chippings. Then I hear something I can’t decode—perhaps a tree branch raking the asphalt shingles on the store roof next door.
Sleepy-eyed now， I focus on the curtain. It flutter...
“Mom， did you hear that？” my seven-year-old blurts， “I think it was an owl family.”
“Probably，” I tell him， “Just keep listening...”
Without the droning air conditioner， the house is oddly peaceful， and the unfiltered night noises seem close enough to touch.
I hope I’m awake tonight when the first breeze sneaks in.
“不开空调？你们怎么睡得着啊？”一个朋友问道，显然有些惊异。我刚刚透露，我们全家决定关掉空调，以降低电费开支。
“不管是白天还是晚上，都没有人会开窗的。”另一个朋友提醒道，她家的窗户刷过漆后，关闭十多年了。“现在是90年代了，不安全。”
开始节电计划的第一天晚上，只有华氏85度的气温，尚没热到让人无法忍受，可三个孩子还是嘟囔起来，他们向来与外面酷热的世界相隔离，在华氏72度的舒适温度下长大。
“你怎么不把窗户打开啊？”丈夫问道，他轻微地晃动着金属插销，终于，一扇窗松动了。各种各样的虫子的尸体装点着窗台。当我们把窗户一扇又一扇地打开时，家里很快充斥了外面夜晚的喧嚣。
“睡不着，太热了。”13岁的女儿抱怨道。
“我简直快热死了。”她哥哥走下客厅，大发牢骚。
“今晚只是试试。”我告诉他们。
事实上，我太累了，根本不想多说。参加完奶奶的财产拍卖会，我已经疲惫不堪了。她那口椭圆的锡制浴缸，还有那把椅子——我曾踩在上面，有模有样地站在她商店的柜台后面，现在都被我拉回了家。
我脸上汗水涔涔，可我还是静静地躺着，窗外蟋蟀们的鸣唱声越来越大，不禁让我回忆起了童年。邻居家的狗大声叫起来了，也许是过来了一只乱窜的小松鼠。多年来，我都没有时间真正聆听夜的静籁。
我想起了活到92岁的外婆，她一直照看着我妈妈的花园，直到去世前的几个星期。于是，我恍惚又回到了童年的炎炎夏日，我住在她的房子里。我把枕头移到外婆的床尾，转过脸来，面向开着的窗户，再把枕头翻过来，捕捉每一丝凉意。
外婆见我翻来覆去，说道：“如果你只是等待清风，很快就会凉爽下来睡着的。”
她把百叶窗帘卷起来，我盯着白色窗帘，希望它能摆动起来。这样静静地躺着，等着，我忽然察觉到了窗外的世界。小虫子们齐声唱着“啾嘎！啾嘎！”很晚了，邻居们还坐在门廊下聊天，隐隐约约的话语声使我平静下来。
“继续等待清风。”外婆轻声说道，我轻声应着。六月的虫子撞到纱窗上，发出咻咻的声音。三个街区开外，一列开往弗里索的火车正隆隆驶过罗斯福大道。我闻到了一阵清新的青草味，还听到了一些奇怪的声响——也许是隔壁小商店的沥青木瓦屋顶上，树枝轻轻掠过时发出的沙沙声。
现在，我昏昏欲睡了，我盯着窗帘，它摆动起来了……
“妈妈，那个声音你听见了吗？”我七岁的儿子突然说道，“我想是猫头鹰一家。”
“可能吧，”我告诉他，“只要继续听……”
没有空调沉闷的嗡嗡声，屋子格外宁静，夜籁之音未经过滤，似乎近在咫尺，触手可及。
今晚，当第一缕清风悄悄潜入时，但愿我还未入眠。
记忆填空
1. We’re not going to ， but the three kids grumble . They’ve grown up in 72-degree comfort， insulated from the world .
2. In truth I’m too tired to argue for . I’m exhausted after attending Grandma’s estate auction. I toted home her oval tin bathtub and the chair I once stood on a big shot behind the counter of her .
3. Without the droning conditioner， the house is oddly peaceful， and the unfiltered night noises close enough to touch.
1. 当我们把窗户一扇又一扇地打开时，家里很快充斥了外面夜晚的喧嚣。
2. 多年来，我都没有时间真正聆听夜的静籁。
3. 今晚，当第一缕清风悄悄潜入时，但愿我还未入眠。
1. I’ve just revealed that my family has decided to shut the air conditioner off and trim our electric bill.
shut off：关掉；切断
2. Sleepy-eyed now， I focus on the curtain.
focus on：关注；集中于