生命不能承受之轻-第45部分

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Tomas　did　not　get　back　for　another　half　hour。　He　went　straight　to　the　kitchen　and　prepared　the　injection　without　a　word。　When　he　entered　the　room；　Tereza　was　on　her　feet　and　Karenin　was　picking　himself　up。　As　soon　as　he　saw　Tomas；　he　gave　him　a　weak　wag　of　the　tail。
Look；　said　Tereza；　he's　still　smiling。　She　said　it　beseechingly；　trying　to　win　a　short　reprieve；　but　did　not　push　for　it。
Slowly　she　spread　a　sheet　out　over　the　couch。　It　was　a　white　sheet　with　a　pattern　of　tiny　violets。　She　had　everything　carefully　laid　out　and　thought　out；　having　imagined　Karenin's　death　many　days　in　advance。　（Oh；　how　horrible　that　we　actually　dream　ahead　to　the　death　of　those　we　love！）
He　no　longer　had　the　strength　to　jump　up　on　the　couch。　They　picked　him　up　in　their　arms　together。　Tereza　laid　him　on　his　side；　and　Tomas　examined　one　of　his　good　legs。　He　was　looking　for　a　more　or　less　prominent　vein。　Then　he　cut　away　the　fur　with　a　pair　of　scissors。
Tereza　knelt　by　the　couch　and　held　Karenin's　head　close　to　her　own。
Tomas　asked　her　to　squeeze　the　leg　because　he　was　having　trouble　sticking　the　needle　in。　She　did　as　she　was　told；　but　did　not　move　her　face　from　his　head。　She　kept　talking　gently　to　Karenin；　and　he　thought　only　of　her。　He　was　not　afraid。　He　licked　her　face　two　more　times。　And　Tereza　kept　whispering；　Don't　be　scared；　don't　be　scared；　you　won't　feel　any　pain　there；　you'll　dream　of　squirrels　and　rabbits；　you'll　have　cows　there；　and　Mefisto　will　be　there；　don't　be　scared　。。。　
Tomas　jabbed　the　needle　into　the　vein　and　pushed　the　plunger。　Karenin's　leg　jerked；　his　breath　quickened　for　a　few　seconds；　then　stopped。　Tereza　remained　on　the　floor　by　the　couch　and　buried　her　face　in　his　head。
Then　they　both　had　to　go　back　to　work　and　leave　the　dog　laid　out　on　the　couch；　on　the　white　sheet　with　tiny　violets。
They　came　back　towards　evening。　Tomas　went　into　the　garden。　He　found　the　lines　of　the　rectangle　that　Tereza　had　drawn　with　her　heel　between　the　two　apple　trees。　Then　he　started　digging。　He　kept　precisely　to　her　specifications。　He　wanted　everything　to　be　just　as　Tereza　wished。
She　stayed　in　the　house　with　Karenin。　She　was　afraid　of　burying　him　alive。　She　put　her　ear　to　his　mouth　and　thought　she　heard　a　weak　breathing　sound。　She　stepped　back　and　seemed　to　see　his　breast　moving　slightly。
（No；　the　breath　she　heard　was　her　own；　and　because　it　set　her　own　body　ever　so　slightly　in　motion；　she　had　the　impression　the　dog　was　moving。）
She　found　a　mirror　in　her　bag　and　held　it　to　his　mouth。　The　mirror　was　so　smudged　she　thought　she　saw　drops　on　it；　drops　caused　by　his　breath。
Tomas！　He's　alive！　she　cried；　when　Tomas　came　in　from　the　garden　in　his　muddy　boots。
Tomas　bent　over　him　and　shook　his　head。　They　each　took　an　end　of　the　sheet　he　was　lying　on；　Tereza　the　lower　end；　Tomas　the　upper。　Then　they　lifted　him　up　and　carried　him　out　to　the　garden。
The　sheet　felt　wet　to　Tereza's　hands。　He　puddled　his　way　into　our　lives　and　now　he's　puddling　his　way　out；　she　thought；　and　she　was　glad　to　feel　the　moisture　on　her　hands；　his　final　greeting。
They　carried　him　to　the　apple　trees　and　set　him　down。　She　leaned　over　the　pit　and　arranged　the　sheet　so　that　it　covered　him　entirely。　It　was　unbearable　to　think　of　the　earth　they　would　soon　be　throwing　over　him；　raining　down　on　his　naked　body。
Then　she　went　into　the　house　and　came　back　with　his　collar；　his　leash；　and　a　handful　of　the　chocolate　that　had　lain　untouched　on　the　floor　since　morning。　She　threw　it　all　in　after　him。
Next　to　the　pit　was　a　pile　of　freshly　dug　earth。　Tomas　picked　up　the　shovel。
Just　then　Tereza　recalled　her　dream：　Karenin　giving　birth　to　two　rolls　and　a　bee。　Suddenly　the　words　sounded　like　an　epitaph。　She　pictured　a　monument　standing　there；　between　the　apple　trees；　with　the　inscription　Here　lies　Karenin。　He　gave　birth　to　two　rolls　and　a　bee。
It　was　twilight　in　the　garden；　the　time　between　day　and　evening。　There　was　a　pale　moon　in　the　sky；　a　forgotten　lamp　in　the　room　of　the　dead。
Their　boots　were　caked　with　dirt　by　the　time　they　took　the　shovel　and　spade　back　to　the　recess　where　their　tools　stood　all　in　a　row：　rakes；　watering　cans；　hoes。

6
He　was　sitting　at　the　desk　where　he　usually　read　his　books。　At　times　like　these　Tereza　would　come　up　to　him　from　behind；　lean　over；　and　press　her　cheek　to　his。　On　that　day；　however；　she　gave　a　start。　Tomas　was　not　reading　a　book；　he　had　a　letter　in　front　of　him；　and　even　though　it　consisted　of　no　more　than　five　typed　lines；　Tomas　was　staring　at　it　long　and　hard。
What　is　it？　Tereza　asked；　full　of　sudden　anguish。
Without　turning　his　head；　Tomas　picked　up　the　letter　and　handed　it　to　her。　It　said　that　he　was　obliged　to　report　that　day　to　the　airfield　of　the　neighboring　town。
When　at　last　he　turned　to　her；　Tereza　read　her　own　new…felt　horror　in　his　eyes。
I'll　go　with　you；　she　said。
He　shook　his　head。　I'm　the　one　they　want　to　see。　
No；　I'm　going　with　you；　she　repeated。
They　took　Tomas's　pickup。　They　were　at　the　airfield　in　no　time。　It　was　foggy。　They　could　make　out　only　the　vaguest　outlines　of　the　few　airplanes　on　the　field。　They　went　from　one　to　the　next；　but　the　doors　were　all　closed。　No　admittance。　At　last　they　found　one　that　was　open；　with　a　set　of　movable　stairs　leading　up　to　it。　They　climbed　the　stairs　and　were　greeted　by　a　steward　at　the　door。　It　was　a　small　airplane—one　that　sat　barely　thirty　passengers—and　completely　empty。　They　walked　down　the　aisle　between　the　seats；　holding　on　to　each　other　and　not　paying　much　attention　to　their　surroundings。　They　took　two　adjoining　seats；　and　Tereza　laid　her　head　on　Tomas's　shoulder。　The　first　wave　of　horror　had　passed　and　been　replaced　by　sadness。
Horror　is　a　shock；　a　time　of　utter　blindness。　Horror　lacks　every　hint　of　beauty。　All　we　can　see　is　the　piercing　light　of　an　unknown　event　awaiting　us。　Sadness；　on　the　other　hand；　assumes　we　are　in　the　know。　Tomas　and　Tereza　knew　what　was　awaiting　them。　The　light　of　horror　thus　lost　its　harshness；　and　the　world　was　bathed　in　a　gentle；　bluish　light　that　actually　beautified　it。
While　reading　the　letter；　Tereza　did　not　feel　any　love　for　Tomas；　she　simply　realized　that　she　could　not　now　leave　him　for　an　instant：　the　feeling　of　horror　overwhelmed　all　other　emotions　and　instincts。　Now　that　she　was　leaning　against　him　（as　the　plane　sailed　through　the　storm　clouds）；　her　fear　subsided　and　she　became　aware　of　her　love；　a　love　that　she　knew　had　no　limit　or　bounds。
At　last　the　airplane　landed。　They　stood　up　and　went　to　the　door；　which　the　steward　opened　for　them。　Still　holding　each　other　around　the　waist；　they　stood　at　the　top　of　the　stairs。　Down　below　they　saw　three　men　with　hoods　over　their　heads　and　rifles　in　their　hands。　There　was　no　point　in　stalling；　because　there　was　no　escape。　They　descended　slowly；　and　when　their　feet　reached　the　ground　of　the　airfield；　one　of　the　men　raised　his　rifle　and　aimed　it　at　them。　Although　no　shot　rang　out；　Tereza　felt　Tomas—who　a　second　before　had　been　leaning　against　her；　his　arm　around　her　waist—crumple　to　the　ground。
She　tried　pressing　him　to　her　but　could　not　hold　him　up；　and　he　fell　against　the　cement　runway。　She　leaned　over　him；　about　to　fling　herself　on　him；　cover　him　with　her　body；　when　suddenly　she　noticed　something　strange：　his　body　was　quickly　shrinking　before　her　eyes。　She　was　so　shocked　that　she　froze　and　stood　stock　still。　The　more　Tomas's　body　shrank；　the　less　it　resembled　him；　until　it　turned　into　a　tiny　little　object　that　started　moving；　running；　dashing　across　the　airfield。
The　man　who　had　shot　him　took　off　his　mask　and　gave　Tereza　a　pleasant　smile。　Then　he　turned　and　set　off　after　the　little　object；　which　was　darting　here　and　there　as　if　trying　desperately　to　dodge　someone　and　find　shelter。　The　chase　went　on　for　a　while；　until　suddenly　the　man　hurled　himself　to　the　ground。　The　chase　was　over。
The　man　stood　up　and　went　back　to　Tereza；　carrying　the　object　in　his　hand。　It　was　quaking　with　fear。　It　was　a　rabbit。　He　handed　it　to　Tereza。　At　that　instant　her　fear　and　sadness　subsided　and　she　was　happy　to　be　holding　an　animal　in　her　arms；　happy　that　the　animal　was　hers　and　she　could　press　it　to　her　body。　She　burst　into　tears　of　joy。　She　wept；　wept　until　blinded　by　her　tears；　and　took　the　rabbit　home　with　the　feeling　that　she　was　nearly　at　her　goal；　the　place　where　she　wanted　to　be　and　would　never　forsake。
Wandering　the　streets　of　Prague；　she　had　no　trouble　finding　her　house；　the　house　where　she　had　lived　with　Mama　and　Papa　as　a　small　girl。　But　Mama　and　Papa　were　gone。　She　was　greeted　by　two　old　people　she　had　never　seen　before；　but　whom　she　knew　to　be　her　great…grandfather　and　great…grandmother。　They　both　had　faces　as　wrinkled　as　the　bark　of　a　tree；　and　Tereza　was　happy　she　would　be　living　with　them。　But　for　now；　she　wanted　to　be　alone　with　her　animal。　She　immediately　found　the　room　she　had　been　given　at　the　age　of　five；　when　her　parents　decided　she　deserved　her　own　living　space。
It　had　a　bed；　a　table；　and　a　chair。　The　table　had　a　lamp　on　it；　a　lamp　that　had　never　stopped　burning　in　anticipation　of　her　return；　and　on　the　lamp　perched　a　butterfly　with　two　large　eyes　painted　on　its　widespread　wings。　Tereza　knew　she　was　at　her　goal。　She　lay　down　on　the　bed　and　pressed　the　rabbit　to　her　face。

7
He　was　sitting　at　the　desk　where　he　usually　read　his　books；　an　open　envelope　with　a　letter　in　it　lying　in　front　of　him。　From　time　to　time　I　get　letters　I　haven't　told　you　about；　he　said　to　Tereza。　They're　from　my　son。　I've　tried　to　keep　his　life　and　mine　completely　separate；　and　look　how　fate　is　getting　even　with　me。　A　few　years　ago　he　was　expelled　from　the　university。　Now　he　drives　a　tractor　in　a　village。　Our　lives　may　be　separate；　but　they　run　in　the　same　direction；　like　parallel　lines。　
Why　didn't　you　ever　tell　me　about　the　letters？　Tereza　asked；　with　a　feeling　of　great　relief。
I　don't　know。　It　was　too　unpleasant；　I　suppose。　Does　he　write　often？　Now　and　then。　What　about？　Himself。　And　is　it　interesting？　
Yes；　it　is。　You　remember　that　his　mother　was　an　ardent　Communist。　Well；　he　broke　with　her　long　ago。　Then　he　took　up　with　people　who　had　trouble　like　ours；　and　got　involved　in　political　activities　with　them。　Some　of　them　are　in　prison　now。　But　he's　broken　with　them；　too。　In　his　letters　he　calls　them　'eternal　revolutionaries。'