The Circle (32 page)

“Okay,” Dan said. “So you go home, missing any number of activities here, and when
you drive back this way, you stop by the rental shop, after hours. Don’t tell me you
didn’t know they were closed.”

“I figured they were, but I just stopped to make sure.”

“And when you saw a kayak outside the fence, you just decided to take it.”

“Borrow it. I’m a member there.”

“Have you seen the footage of this?” Dan asked.

He turned on his wallscreen. Mae saw a clear, moonlight image of the beach from a
wide-angle camera. The logline at the bottom of the screen indicated it had been taken
at 10:14 p.m. “Don’t you think a camera like this would be useful to you?” Dan asked.
“Water conditions at the very least?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Let’s see you
here.” He fast-forwarded a few seconds, and Mae saw her shadowy figure appear on the
beach. Everything was very clear—her surprise at finding the kayak, her moments of
deliberation and doubt, then her quick work of bringing the vessel to the water and
paddling out of view.

“Okay,” Dan said, “as you can see, it’s pretty obvious you knew you were doing something
wrong. This is not the behavior of someone with a standing arrangement with Marge
or whomever. I mean, I’m happy that you two colluded on your story and that you weren’t
arrested, because that would have made your working here impossible. Felons don’t
work at the Circle. But still, all of this makes me frankly sick to my stomach. Lies
and aversions. It’s just astounding to even have to deal with this.”

Again Mae had the distinct feeling, a vibration in the air that said she was being
fired. But if she was being fired, Dan wouldn’t have spent this kind of time with
her, would he? And would he fire someone Annie, who was far higher on the ladder,
had hired? If she were to hear about her termination from anyone, it would be Annie
herself. So Mae sat, hoping this was going somewhere else.

“Now, what’s missing here?” he asked, pointing to the frozen image of Mae getting
into the kayak.

“I don’t know.”

“You really don’t know?”

“Permission to use the kayak?”

“Sure,” he said curtly, “but what else?”

Mae shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“Don’t you usually wear a life preserver?”

“I do, I do. But they were on the other side of the fence.”

“And if something happened to you out there, god forbid, how would your parents feel?
How would Marge feel?”

“Marion.”

“How would she feel, Mae? Overnight, her business is over. Finished. All the people
who work for her. They’re all out of work. The beach is shut down. Kayaking in the
bay, as a business overall, goes through the floor. All because of your carelessness.
Forgive me for the bluntness, but because of your selfishness.”

“I know,” Mae said, feeling the sting of truth. She had been selfish. She hadn’t thought
of anything but her own desire.

“It’s sad, because you’ve been improving so much. Your PartiRank was as high as 1,668.
Your Conversion Rate and Retail Raw were in the top quartile. And now this.” Dan sighed
elaborately. “But as upsetting as this all is, it provides us with a teachable moment.
And I mean a teachable moment on a life-changing level. This shameful episode has
given you the chance to meet Eamon Bailey himself.”

Mae’s gasp was audible.

“Yes. He took an interest in this, seeing how much it overlaps with his interests
and the overall goals of the Circle. Would you be interested in speaking to Eamon
about this?”

“Yes,” Mae managed. “Of course.”

“Good. He’s anxious to meet you. At six this evening, you’ll be brought to his office.
Please collect your thoughts in the meantime.”

Mae’s head echoed with self-denunciations. She hated who she was. How could she have
done that, risked her job? Embarrassed her best friend? Jeopardized her father’s health
insurance? She was an imbecile,
yes, but was she some sort of schizophrenic, too? What had overtaken her the night
before? What sort of person does that? Her mind argued with itself while she worked,
feverishly, trying to do something visible to demonstrate her commitment to the company.
She handled 140 customer queries, her record so far, while answering 1,129 survey
questions, and while keeping the newbies on target. The pod aggregate score was 98,
which she took pride in even while knowing there was some luck, and some of Jared’s
involvement, too—he knew what was happening with Mae and had pledged his help. At
five p.m. the chute closed and Mae worked on her PartiRank for forty-five minutes,
bringing it from 1,827 to 1,430, a process entailing 344 comments, posts, and almost
a thousand smiles and frowns. She converted 38 major topics and 44 minor ones, and
her Retail Raw was $24,050. She felt sure that this would be noticed and appreciated
by Bailey, whose concentration on PartiRank was the most acute of the Three Wise Men.

At five forty-five, a voice called her name. She looked up to see a figure at the
door, someone new, a man of about thirty. She met him at the door.

“Mae Holland?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Dontae Peterson. I work with Eamon, and he’s asked me to bring you up to his
office. You ready?”

They took the same route Mae had taken with Annie, and along the way Mae realized
that Dontae didn’t know Mae had been to Bailey’s office before. Annie had never sworn
her to secrecy, but the fact that Dontae didn’t know indicated that Bailey didn’t
know, and that she shouldn’t reveal this herself.

As they entered the long crimson hallway, Mae was sweating heavily. She could feel
rivulets making their way from her armpits to her waist. She couldn’t feel her feet.

“Here’s a funny portrait of the Three Wise Men,” Dontae said as they stopped at the
door. “Bailey’s niece did it.”

Mae pretended to be surprised by it, delighted by its innocence and crude insight.

Dontae took the large gargoyle knocker and rapped the door. It opened, and Bailey’s
smiling face filled the void.

“Hello!” he said. “Hi Dontae, hi Mae!” He smiled wider, acknowledging his rhyme. “Come
in.”

He was wearing khakis and a white button-down, looking freshly showered. Mae followed
him as he took in the room, scratching the nape of his neck, as if almost embarrassed
by how well he’d done here.

“So this is my favorite room. Very few people have seen it. Not like I’m super-secret
about it or anything, but time just doesn’t allow me to give tours and such. Have
you seen anything like this before?”

Mae wanted to say, but couldn’t, that she had seen this very room before. “Not remotely,”
she said.

Something happened in Bailey’s face at that moment, some twitch that seemed to bring
the left corner of his eye and the left side of his mouth closer together.

“Thank you Dontae,” Bailey said.

Dontae smiled and left, closing the heavy door behind him.

“So Mae. Tea?” Bailey was standing before an antique tea set, a silver pot emitting
a narrow corkscrew of steam.

“Sure,” she said.

“Green? Black?” he asked, smiling. “Grey?”

“Green, thanks. But you don’t have to.”

Bailey was busy with the preparations. “You’ve known our beloved Annie a long time?”
he asked, pouring carefully.

“I have. Since sophomore year in college. Five years now.”

“Five years! That’s, what, thirty percent of your life!”

Mae knew he was rounding up a bit, but she emitted a tiny laugh. “I guess so. A long
time.” He handed her a saucer and cup and gestured for her to sit down. There were
two chairs, both leather and overstuffed.

Bailey dropped himself into his chair with a loud sigh, and rested his ankle on his
knee. “Well, Annie is very important to us here, and thus you are, too. She talks
about you like you could end up being very valuable to this community. Do you believe
that’s true?”

“That I could be valuable here?”

He nodded, then blew on his tea. He looked over his teacup to her, his eyes steady.
She met his gaze, then, briefly overwhelmed, she looked away, only to find his face
again, this time in a framed photo on a nearby shelf. It was a formal portrait of
Bailey’s family in black and white, his three girls standing around their mother and
Bailey, who were both sitting. Bailey’s son was on his lap, wearing a tracksuit and
holding an Iron Man action figure.

“Well, I hope so,” Mae said. “I’ve been trying as hard as I can. I love the Circle,
and can’t express how much I appreciate the opportunity I’ve been given here.”

Bailey smiled. “Good, good. So tell me, how are you feeling about what happened last
night?” He asked the question as if genuinely curious, as if her answer might go in
any number of directions.

Mae was on firm ground now. No obfuscation was necessary. “Terrible,”
she said. “I barely slept. I’m so ashamed I want to puke.” She wouldn’t have used
the word when talking to Stenton, but she felt Bailey might appreciate the coarseness.

He smiled almost imperceptibly and moved on. “Mae, let me ask you a question. Would
you have behaved differently if you’d known about the SeeChange cameras at the marina?”

“Yes.”

Bailey nodded empathetically. “Okay. How?”

“I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

“And why not?”

“Because I would have been caught.”

Bailey tilted his head. “Is that all?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want anyone seeing me do that. It wasn’t right. It’s embarrassing.”

He put his cup on the table next to him and rested his hands on his lap, his palms
in a gentle embrace. “So in general, would you say you behave differently when you
know you’re being watched?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“And when you’ll be held accountable.”

“Yes.”

“And when there will be a historical record. That is, when or if your behavior will
be permanently accessible. That a video of your behavior, for example, will exist
forever.”

“Yes.”

“Good. And do you remember my talk from earlier in the summer, about the ultimate
goal of SeeChange?”

“I know it would eliminate most crime, if there was full saturation.”

Bailey seemed pleased. “Right. Correct. Everyday citizens, like Gary Katz and Walt
Lefebvre in this instance, because they took the time to set up their cameras, they
help keep us all safe. The crime was minor in this case, and there were no victims,
thank god. You’re alive. Marion’s business, and the kayaking industry generally, lives
to see another day. But one night of selfishness from you could have risked it all.
The individual act has reverberations that can be nearly endless. Do you agree?”

“I do. I know. It’s unconscionable.” And here Mae again had the feeling that she was
a very short-sighted person, who repeatedly jeopardized all she’d been given by the
Circle.

“Mr. Bailey, I can’t believe I did this. And I know you’re wondering if I fit in here.
I just want you to know how much I value my position here and your faith in me. And
I want to honor that. I’ll do anything to make this up to you. Seriously, I’ll take
on any extra work, I’ll do anything. Just tell me.”

Bailey’s face broke into a highly amused grin. “Mae, your job isn’t in jeopardy. You’re
here for good. Annie’s here for good. Sorry if you believed otherwise, for even a
second. We don’t want either of you to ever leave.”

“That’s very good to hear. Thank you,” Mae said, though her heart was hammering harder
now.

He smiled, nodding, as if happy and relieved to have all that settled. “But this whole
episode gives us a very important teachable moment, don’t you think?” The question
seemed rhetorical, but Mae nodded anyway. “Mae,” he said, “when is a secret a good
thing?”

Mae took a few seconds on this. “When it can protect someone’s feelings.”

“For example?”

“Well,” she fumbled. “Let’s say you know your friend’s boyfriend is cheating on her
but—”

“But what? You don’t tell your friend?”

“Okay. That’s not a good example.”

“Mae, are you ever happy when a friend keeps a secret from you?”

Mae thought about the many small lies she’d told to Annie recently. Lies that she’d
not only
spoken
but
typed
, lies made permanent and undeniable.

“No. But I understand when they have to.”

“That’s interesting. Can you think of a time when you were happy one of your friends
kept something from you?”

Mae could not. “Not at the moment.” She felt sick.

“Okay,” Bailey said, “for now, we can’t think of good secrets between friends. Let’s
move on to families. In a family, is a secret a good thing? Theoretically, do you
ever think,
You know what would be great to keep from my family? A secret
.”

Mae thought of the many things her parents were likely keeping from her—the various
indignities her father’s illness caused them. “No,” she said.

“No secrets within a family?”

“Actually,” Mae said. “I don’t know. There are definitely things you don’t want your
parents to know.”

“Would your parents
want
to know these things?”

“Maybe.”

“So you’re depriving your parents of something they want. This is good?”

“No. But maybe better for all.”

“Better for you. Better for the keeper of the secret. Some dark secret is better kept
from the parents. Is this a secret about some wonderful thing you’ve done? Perhaps
knowing about it would bring just too much joy to your parents?”

Mae laughed. “No. Clearly a secret is something you don’t want them to know about
because you’re ashamed or you want to spare them from knowing you screwed up.”

“But we agree they would
like
to know.”

“Yes.”

“And are they entitled to know?”

“I guess.”

“Okay. So can we agree that we’re talking about a situation where, in a perfect world,
you’re not doing anything you’d be ashamed of telling your parents?”

“Sure. But there are other things they might not understand.”