Page 75 of Cassian is Getting Out

CASSIAN CALYX: Because you didn’t want to leave.

[Pause.]

I think that’s the part that’s hard for people to understand, because when you look at it from out here you think: the road was right there. You could have walked down the driveway, turned left, kept walking until you hit a bus stop, and nobody would have stopped you.

That’s true. Nobody needed to. The leaving had already been taken out of you. Not by force. By making the world outside so huge and so frightening that staying felt like the only rational thing to do.

COUNSEL ASSISTING: Can you describe what you mean by that?

CASSIAN CALYX: Fences are for places where people want to get out.

Everything you needed was inside the compound. We all got food, shelter, purpose, belonging, love. The Universal Principles taught us that the Light provided for those who stayed open to receiving, and that the world outside was noise. People out there were lost, and they didn’t even know they were lost, which made them dangerous, because they could smilingly lead you astray.

COUNSEL ASSISTING: Were members explicitly told not to leave the compound?

CASSIAN CALYX: No. That’s the clever part. Nobody ever said “you can’t leave.” What they said was: “Why would you want to?”

Everything was addressed by doctrine: loneliness was a failure of devotion, boredom was a failure of gratitude, curiosity about the outside world was the first symptom of contamination.

COUNSEL ASSISTING: You mentioned earlier that members did leave the compound for errands. Can you describe what those trips were like?

CASSIAN CALYX: You went in pairs. Always. Nobody said it was a rule, but you were never allowed to be alone. When you came back, everyone talked about the trip like it was an expedition to hostile territory, complaining about how loud the traffic was, or how distracted the people in the shops seemed. Every trip to town confirmed what the doctrine told you: the outside world was disconnected, unhappy, and spiritually empty. You came home feeling grateful to be back.

I went to the supermarket with one of the senior women once, Marguerite. She picked up a magazine near the till, one of the ones with celebrities on the cover, and she held it up for me to see, and she said, “Look at their eyes. Do any of them look like they’ve found the Light?” I looked. I didn’t think they had. Marguerite put the magazine back, bought our flour and our tinned tomatoes, and we drove home.

I thought about those celebrities’ eyes for weeks afterwards. I felt sorry for them.

COUNSEL ASSISTING: Did it ever occur to you to leave before your marriage to Mr Townsend?

CASSIAN CALYX: No. Not once. And I know how that sounds. But the thought didn’t exist in my head. There was no space for it. Every gap where a thought like that might have grown had already been filled by the doctrine.

Think of it like…you get up in the morning. You know what to eat, because the rotation tells you. You know where to sit, because your place at the table is assigned. You know what to wear, because there’s always white linen for practice, brown for labour, undyed cotton for sleep. You know who to speak to and what to say, because the greetings are prescribed. You know what to think about during meditation, because the Lumineer sets the focus the night before. You know what to feel about what you’re thinking, because the doctrine tells you which emotions are from the Light and which are contamination.

There’s nothing left over. No spare room in your day where the question “Should I leave?” could even form, because the formation of the question requires a gap in the instructions, and there are no gaps.

[Pause.]

Not having to decide felt like being carried.

COUNSEL ASSISTING: Can you say more about that?

CASSIAN CALYX: Now, outside the compound, I make about forty decisions in the first hour after I wake up. What to eat. Which mug to use. Whether to shower first or get dressed first. Whether to walk to Portobello Road alone, or stick around the house until Colin or Diwa can come with me. Whether to wear the blue shirt or the grey one. Whether to put milk in my tea. Whether I’m having breakfast at home or whether I’ll get something from the bakery. Whether to brush my teeth before breakfast, which Diwa says is correct, or after breakfast, which Colin says is correct, and they’ve been having this argument for over a year and neither of them will give in.

Every single one of those decisions costs me something.

In the Family, I woke up and the day was already laid out for me. All I had to do was walk through it.

I know that’s not freedom. I understand that now. But I still miss it sometimes. The not-deciding. Is that a terrible thing to say?

COUNSEL ASSISTING: No, Cassian. It’s not.

CASSIAN CALYX: It was so easy. To have someone else carry every choice so that all I had to do was follow, and be good, and be grateful.

And I was good. I was so good at it.

[TRANSCRIPT CONTINUES]

Chapter Thirty