I read the guest book back to front. More entries from Finnegan, cryptic thank-you notes from several of the couples whose photographs grace Orla’s shelves.
In the afternoon, I hear a knock at the door. Orla is standing there in her rain gear and tennis shoes. I motion for her to come in, but she takes a step back. She seems to be reassessing me.
“Walk?” she says.
I grab my windbreaker and head outside to find that she’s already a hundred yards up the path. She certainly doesn’t seem ill. As I come up beside her, she doesn’t say a word. We walk for a long way, not speaking, and turn in the direction of her house only when the rain starts blowing sideways.
Inside, she gives me a towel to dry my hair and leaves the room. When she returns in fresh clothes, she’s holding a glass of wine for herself and hot chocolate for me.
“Perhaps I should ask what’s in it,” I say, waving away the proffered mug.
She ignores my sarcasm. “Have a seat.”
She settles into the leather chair. There is no mention of the time that has passed since our discussion. Time seems oddly elastic in her world. I sense that there is something else going on in her life—the illness Richard mentioned?—but when she speaks she seems completely focused.
“I really do like you, Friend.”
“Is that supposed to make me trust you?”
She waves her hand in the air, as if this is a matter of little importance. “Not yet, but you will. You’ve had time to think?”
“Yes,” I say, suddenly understanding the time alone at Altshire, the long wait at the rooming house. Nothing has been left to chance.
“And you still believe The Pact is not the appropriate avenue to a successful marriage for you and Alice?” She says this bluntly but without judgment.
“You told me a story. May I tell you one?”
She nods.
“As a child, I had a vague, idealized sense of what marriage should be. It was some goofy amalgamation I’d handpicked from my parents’ marriage, what I read in books, what I saw on TV or in the movies. It wasn’t realistic, and even if it was, it would have been the architecture of a marriage for a different time. As I got older, this unrealistic notion became a barrier, blocking me from moving forward in relationships. I simply couldn’t picture any of the women I’d dated in the context of this idealized marriage.”
“Go on,” she says, listening closely.
“When I met Alice, though, something clicked. All at once, this idealized notion began to fade away, and with it the burden of having to get everything just right. I knew that if I wanted to keep her, I would have to abandon my preconceived notions of marriage, to let it develop naturally. When she accepted my proposal, Alice and I made the unspoken decision to move forward blindly, feeling our way, trying to discover what worked for us. Then, when The Pact intervened, I guess we were both relieved to have some direction. Maybe it was laziness on our part. It was as if you were offering us a clear road map at a time when we were standing lost in some vast, uncharted territory.”
Orla says nothing.
“The Pact has many good ideas—Alice and I will give gifts to each other forever, thanks to you, and we’ll always take trips together. I also love the idea of surrounding oneself with others who are deeply committed to marriage. And I will grant you this: There was a time, after Alice’s first visit to Fernley, when she started coming home earlier from work, paying more attention to our home life. It may surprise you to know that, despite the hell Alice and I have been through, I can see how The Pact as you originally envisioned it has a good heart. I embrace the idea that is the very foundation of The Pact ideology.”
“And what idea is that?” Orla seems fascinated by my response.
“Balance. The Pact is about bringing balance and fairness to a marriage. Let’s face it, at different points in a marriage one partner may need the other more than they are needed. Most of the time, isn’t one partner giving more than he or she is receiving—more love, more resources, more time? The roles may change, but the imbalance remains. I like that The Pact works hard to nudge the relationship closer to that exquisite balancing point. As a marriage counselor, I know through painful experience that most marriages fail when the balance becomes too out of whack to be made right.”
There are voices in some other part of the house. Orla frowns.
“Don’t worry about them,” she says. “Just operational stuff.”
“My issue with The Pact,” I continue, measuring my words, “is the methods it uses. Your goals should be achieved with a gentle, guiding hand, not an iron fist. There is simply no justification for the things you do. The violence is barbaric. I can’t for the life of me understand why you allow it.”
“The Pact is guided by an elegant set of ideas. The iron fist is only a small part of it.”
“But you can’t separate the two,” I say angrily. “Threat equals fear. When you instill fear in your members, you can never know whether their marriages are truly successful or they’re just following rules because they’re afraid of the Draconian punishments.”
Orla stands and walks to the window. “Each day, Jake, nearly all members of The Pact live productive, creative lives made richer by supportive marriages and a community of like-minded individuals. More than ninety percent of our members have never seen the inside of places like Fernley or Kettenham or Plovdiv.”
Kettenham? Plovdiv?
“Instead, they enjoy contented lives, close to that ideal of the perfect balance.”
“But what about the others?”
“Honestly? The minor inconvenience of some, or in rare instances the major debt paid by a few, is justified if it provides an effective example, a cautionary tale to help the others maintain better marriages.” Her back is to me. Outside the window, a fog bank moves swiftly over the ocean. “I know your background, Jake. I’ve read your graduate thesis. There was a time when you might have passionately defended our tactics. Can you deny it?”
I cringe. During graduate school and the years that followed, I was fascinated by some horrifically cruel studies, like the Stanford Prison Experiment and the Milgram Experiment, as well as lesser-known experiments out of Austria and the Soviet Union. Although I chose to pursue a path of therapy defined by compassion and personal choice, I have to acknowledge the ruthless conclusion of my thesis: Individual obedience is sometimes required to serve the greater good, and fear is an extremely effective tactic to elicit obedience.
“Call me what you will, Jake, but the statistics indicate that even among Pact members, whose marriages are far more successful than the general population, those who have spent time at our correctional facilities report even greater intimacy, greater happiness, over a longer period of time.”
“Are you listening to yourself? This is textbook propaganda!”