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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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