生命不能承受之轻-第42章

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；　he　had　faith。　So　it　was　gratitude　that　decided　the　issue；　most　likely。　Human　decisions　are　terribly　simple。　Haven't　you　ever　answered　his　letters？　He　never　gives　a　return　address；　he　said；　though　the　postmark　indicates　the　name　of　the　district。　I　could　just　send　a　letter　to　the　local　collective　farm。　
Tereza　was　ashamed　of　having　been　suspicious　of　Tomas；　and　hoped　to　expiate　her　guilt　with　a　rush　of　benevolence　towards　his　son。　Then　why　not　drop　him　a　line；　invite　him　to　come　and　see　us？　
He　looks　like　me；　said　Tomas。　When　he　talks；　his　upper　lip　curls　just　like　mine。　The　thought　of　watching　my　own　lips　go　on　about　the　kingdom　of　God—it　seems　too　strange。　Tereza　burst　out　laughing。　Tomas　laughed　with　her。
Don't　be　such　a　child；　Tomas！　said　Tereza。　It's　ancient　history；　after　all；　you　and　your　first　wife。　What's　it　to　him？　What's　he　got　to　do　with　it？　Why　hurt　the　boy　just　because　you　had　bad　taste　when　you　were　young？　
Frankly；　I　have　stage　fright　at　the　thought　of　meeting　him。　That's　the　main　reason　I　haven't　done　anything　about　it。　I　don't　know　what's　made　me　so　headstrong　and　kept　me　from　seeing　him。　Sometimes　you　make　up　your　mind　about　something　without　knowing　why；　and　your　decision　persists　by　the　power　of　inertia。　Every　year　it　gets　harder　to　change。　
Invite　him；　she　said。
That　afternoon　she　was　on　her　way　back　from　the　cow　sheds　when　she　heard　voices　from　the　road。　Coming　closer；　she　saw　Tomas's　pickup。　Tomas　was　bent　over；　changing　a　tire；　while　some　of　the　men　stood　about　looking　on　and　waiting　for　him　to　finish。
She　could　not　tear　her　eyes　away　from　him：　he　looked　like　an　old　man。　His　hair　had　gone　gray；　and　his　lack　of　coordination　was　not　that　of　a　surgeon　turned　driver　but　of　a　man　no　longer　young。
She　recalled　a　recent　talk　with　the　chairman　of　the　collective　farm。　He　had　told　her　that　Tomas's　pickup　was　in　miserable　condition。　He　said　it　as　a　joke；　not　a　complaint；　but　she　could　tell　he　was　concerned。　Tomas　knows　the　insides　of　the　body　better　than　the　insides　of　an　engine；　he　said　with　a　laugh。　He　then　confessed　that　he　had　made　several　visits　to　the　authorities　to　request　permission　for　Tomas　to　resume　his　medical　practice；　if　only　locally。　He　had　learned　that　the　police　would　never　grant　it。
She　had　stepped　behind　a　tree　trunk　so　that　none　of　the　men　by　the　pickup　could　see　her。　Standing　there　observing　him；　she　suffered　a　bout　of　self…recrimination：　It　was　her　fault　that　he　had　come　back　to　Prague　from　Zurich；　her　fault　that　he　had　left　Prague；　and　even　here　she　could　not　leave　him　in　peace；　torturing　him　with　her　secret　suspicions　while　Karenin　lay　dying。
She　had　always　secretly　reproached　him　for　not　loving　her　enough。　Her　own　love　she　considered　above　reproach；　while　his　seemed　mere　condescension。
Now　she　saw　that　she　had　been　unfair：　If　she　had　really　loved　Tomas　with　a　great　love；　she　would　have　stuck　it　out　with　him　abroad！　Tomas　had　been　happy　there；　a　new　life　was　opening　for　him！　And　she　had　left　him！　True；　at　the　time　she　had　convinced　herself　she　was　being　magnanimous；　giving　him　his　freedom。　But　hadn't　her　magnanimity　been　merely　an　excuse？　She　knew　all　along　that　he　would　come　home　to　her！　She　had　summoned　him　farther　and　farther　down　after　her　like　the　nymphs　who　lured　unsuspecting　villagers　to　the　marshes　and　left　them　there　to　drown。　She　had　taken　advantage　of　a　night　of　stomach　cramps　to　inveigle　him　into　moving　to　the　country！　How　cunning　she　could　be！　She　had　summoned　him　to　follow　her　as　if　wishing　to　test　him　again　and　again；　to　test　his　love　for　her；　she　had　summoned　him　persistently；　and　here　he　was；　tired　and　gray；　with　stiffened　fingers　that　would　never　again　be　capable　of　holding　a　scalpel。
Now　they　were　in　a　place　that　led　nowhere。　Where　could　they　go　from　here？　They　would　never　be　allowed　abroad。　They　would　never　find　a　way　back　to　Prague：　no　one　would　give　them　work。　They　didn't　even　have　a　reason　to　move　to　another　village。
Good　God；　had　they　had　to　cover　all　that　distance　just　to　make　her　believe　he　loved　her？
At　last　Tomas　succeeded　in　getting　the　tire　back　on。　He　climbed　in　behind　the　wheel；　the　men　jumped　in　the　back；　and　the　engine　roared。
She　went　home　and　drew　a　bath。　Lying　in　the　hot　water；　she　kept　telling　herself　that　she　had　set　a　lifetime　of　her　weaknesses　against　Tomas。　We　all　have　a　tendency　to　consider　strength　the　culprit　and　weakness　the　innocent　victim。　But　now　Tereza　realized　that　in　her　case　the　opposite　was　true！　Even　her　dreams；　as　if　aware　of　the　single　weakness　in　a　man　otherwise　strong；　made　a　display　of　her　suffering　to　him；　thereby　forcing　him　to　retreat。　Her　weakness　was　aggressive　and　kept　forcing　him　to　capitulate　until　eventually　he　lost　his　strength　and　was　transformed　into　the　rabbit　in　her　arms。　She　could　not　get　that　dream　out　of　her　mind。
She　stood　up　from　her　bath　and　went　to　put　on　some　nice　clothes。　She　wanted　to　look　her　best　to　please　him；　make　him　happy。
Just　as　she　buttoned　the　last　button；　in　burst　Tomas　with　the　chairman　of　the　collective　farm　and　an　unusually　pale　young　farm　worker。
Quick！　shouted　Tomas。　Something　strong　to　drink！　Tereza　ran　out　and　came　back　with　a　bottle　of　slivovitz。　She　poured　some　into　a　liqueur　glass；　and　the　young　man　downed　it　in　one　gulp。
Then　they　told　her　what　had　happened。　The　man　had　dislocated　his　shoulder　and　started　bellowing　with　pain。　No　one　knew　what　to　do；　so　they　called　Tomas；　who　with　one　jerk　set　it　back　in　its　socket。
After　downing　another　glass　of　slivovitz；　the　man　said　to　Tomas；　Your　wife's　looking　awfully　pretty　today。　
You　idiot；　said　the　chairman。　Tereza　is　always　pretty。　
I　know　she's　always　pretty；　said　the　young　man；　but　today　she　has　such　pretty　clothes　on；　too。　I've　never　seen　you　in　that　dress。　Are　you　going　out　somewhere？　
No；　I'm　not。　I　put　it　on　for　Tomas。　
You　lucky　devil！　said　the　chairman；　laughing。　My　old　woman　wouldn't　dream　of　dressing　up　just　for　me。　
So　that's　why　you　go　out　walking　with　your　pig　instead　of　your　wife；　said　the　young　man；　and　he　started　laughing；　too。
How　is　Mefisto；　anyway？　asked　Tomas。　I　haven't　seen　him　for　at　least　—he　thought　a　bit—　at　least　an　hour。　
He　must　be　missing　me；　said　the　chairman。
Seeing　you　in　that　dress　makes　me　want　to　dance；　the　young　man　said　to　Tereza。　And　turning　to　Tomas；　he　asked；　Would　you　let　me　dance　with　her？　
Let's　all　go　and　dance；　said　Tereza。
Would　you　come　along？　the　young　man　asked　Tomas。
Where　do　you　plan　to　go？　asked　Tomas。
The　young　man　named　a　nearby　town　where　the　hotel　bar　had　a　dance　floor。
You　come　too；　said　the　young　man　in　an　imperative　tone　of　voice　to　the　chairman　of　the　collective　farm；　and　because　by　then　he　had　downed　a　third　glass　of　slivovitz；　he　added；　If　Mefisto　misses　you　so　much；　we'll　take　him　along。　Then　we'll　have　both　little　pigs　to　show　off。　The　women　will　come　begging　when　they　get　an　eyeful　of　those　two　together！　And　again　he　laughed　and　laughed。
If　you're　not　ashamed　of　Mefisto；　I'm　all　yours。　And　they　piled　into　Tomas's　pickup—Tomas　behind　the　wheel；　Tereza　next　to　him；　and　the　two　men　in　the　back　with　the　half…empty　bottle　of　slivovitz。　Not　until　they　had　left　the　village　behind　did　the　chairman　realize　that　they　had　forgotten　Mefisto。　He　shouted　up　to　Tomas　to　turn　back。
Never　mind；　said　the　young　man。　One　little　pig　will　do　the　trick。　That　calmed　the　chairman　down。
It　was　growing　dark。　The　road　started　climbing　in　hairpin　curves。
When　they　reached　the　town；　they　drove　straight　to　the　hotel。　Tereza　and　Tomas　had　never　been　there　before。　They　went　downstairs　to　the　basement；　where　they　found　the　bar；　the　dance　floor；　and　some　tables。　A　man　of　about　sixty　was　playing　the　piano；　a　woman　of　the　same　age　the　violin。　The　hits　they　played　were　forty　years　old。　There　were　five　or　so　couples　out　on　the　floor。
Nothing　here　for　me；　said　the　young　man　after　surveying　the　situation；　and　immediately　asked　Tereza　to　dance。
The　collective　farm　chairman　sat　down　at　an　empty　table　with　Tomas　and　ordered　a　bottle　of　wine。
I　can't　drink；　Tomas　reminded　him。　I'm　driving。　
Don't　be　silly；　he　said。　We're　staying　the　night。　And　he　went　off　to　the　reception　desk　to　book　two　rooms。
When　Tereza　came　back　from　the　dance　floor　with　the　young　man；　the　chairman　asked　her　to　dance；　and　finally　Tomas　had　a　turn　with　her；　too。
Tomas；　she　said　to　him　out　on　the　floor；　everything　bad　that's　happened　in　your　life　is　my　fault。　It's　my　fault　you　ended　up　here；　as　low　as　you　could　possibly　go。　
Low？　What　are　you　talking　about？　
If　we　had　stayed　in　Zurich；　you'd　still　be　a　surgeon。　
And　you'd　be　a　photographer。　
That's　a　silly　comparison　to　make；　said　Tereza。　Your　work　meant　everything　to　you；　I　don't　care　what　I　do；　I　can　do　anything；　I　haven't　lost　a　thing；　you've　lost　everything。　
Haven't　you　noticed　I've　been　happy　here；　Tereza？　Tomas　said。
Surgery　was　your　mission；　she　said。
Missions　are　stupid；　Tereza。　I　have　no　mission。　No　one　has。　And　it's　a　terrific　relief　to　realize　you're　free；　free　of　all　missions。　
There　was　no　doubting　that　forthright　voice　of　his。　She　recalled　the　scene　she　had　witnessed　earlier　in　the　day　when　he　had　been　repairing　the　pickup　and　looked　so　old。　She　had　reached　her　goal：　she　had　always　wanted　him　to　be　old。　Again　she　thought　of　the　rabbit　she　had　pressed　to　her　face　in　her　childhood　room。
What　does　it　mean　to　turn　into　a　rabbit？　It　means　losing　all　strength。　It　means　that　one　is　no　stronger　than　the　other　anymore。
On　they　danced　to　the　strains　of　the　piano　and　violin。　Tereza　leaned　her　head　on　Tomas's　shoulder。　Just　as　she　had　when　they　flew　together　in　the　airplane　through　the　storm　clouds。　She　was　experiencing　the　same　odd　happiness　and　odd　sadness　as　then。　The　sadness　meant：　we　are　at　the　last　station。　The　happiness　meant：　we　are　together。　The　sadness　was　form；　the　happiness　content。　Happiness　filled　the　space　of　sadness。
They　went　back　to　their　table。　She　danced　twice　more　with　the　collective　farm　chairman　and　once　with　the　young　man　who　was　so　drunk　he　fell　with　her　on　the　dance　floor。
Then　they　all　went　upstairs　and　to　their　two　separate　rooms。
Tomas　turned　the　key　and　switched　on　the　ceiling　light。　Tereza　saw　two　beds　pushed　together；　one　of　them　flanked　by　a　bedside　table　and　lamp。　Up　out　of　the　lampshade；　startled　by　the　overhead　light；　flew　a　large　nocturnal　butterfly　that　began　circling　the　room。　The　strains　of　the　piano　and　violin　rose　up　weakly　from　below。

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