Cold Comfort: Tuesday, July 9, 2024 – Agatha

Dear Diary,

The comforting fact of the day is that Jonathan Meyer has a lawyer on call. Everything else is downhill from there.

He brought us all together in the lodge late this afternoon, except we weren’t all there. It’s Truman’s day off, and Percy made excuses for Mary. I think Jonathan didn’t want to accuse Percy of maybe keeping things from his wife, so he basically made Percy promise to tell her what’s up and have her call him if she needed something clarified.

“What’s up” is the threat of a warrant for our identities.

I don’t know if Jonathan doesn’t have any more information, or if he’s just not sharing any more information. Or if he’ll contact someone privately later and tell them hey, it’s actually about you. But even though he got us all there, which has never happened before, he didn’t have much to tell us: “I want you to know that I’ve already contacted my lawyer, and nothing will be done, no information released, unless he says that it would be illegal for me to withhold it.”

Jonathan’s not much of a public speaker. There’s burying the lede, and then there’s … what would that be? Slamming you with something so horrific you can’t pay attention to the rest of what he says. Although really, what more do you need? Someone out there, someone who’s not one of us, wants to know who’s up here.

It doesn’t make any sense. Emily started arguing (loudly) that it doesn’t make any sense. For one thing, if they’re after a man, then the women are safe. Right? That didn’t win her any love from the guys.

So I thought, but didn’t say, that if they’re looking for a couple, then it’s just Percy and Mary’s info they need. Their real names. Then it’s either yep, here’s the arrest warrant, or nope, not you, sorry. And Jonathan already knows their names, and they wouldn’t have to reveal that to anyone else, right? So …

So I’m debating making a phone call. I haven’t yet because I have no solid information, and it’s not even a threat right now, anyway. It’s just Jonathan telling us he can’t be bullied into sharing our private information. Except it’s also Jonathan telling us that someone’s coming after our private information.

I want to protect my private information simply because it’s mine. Jane tried saying “Well, if we haven’t done anything wrong …” and Emily about bit her head off. That of course made Jane snap back that clearly if Emily didn’t want to say something, then she shouldn’t have done illegal things.

It’s not about doing or not doing illegal things. It’s about how your private doesn’t get to become public just because someone else suddenly decides it. If I want someone to know my not-Agatha name, then I’ll introduce myself with it, thank you very much. Here, I’m Agatha, and the police (if that’s who it is, because Jonathan didn’t actually say) don’t get to know anything else just because they think it would be helpful.

Henry sided with Emily. Literally moved to put himself on her side. And the problem was how I was already standing closer to Emily, just because of the room, and I wasn’t going to move toward Jane after she said something I don’t believe in. Jane’s probably the kind of person who takes pictures of strangers at Walmart and posts them to mock their outfit choices. Jane needs to reconsider her ideas about consent.

But the thing is, Jonathan’s all about privacy. My own lawyer looked into his practices. He wants to know as little about you as possible, and he makes you sign things saying you won’t tell anything you find out about other people, and it’s legit. I mean, I guess I knew Jonathan had a lawyer because of the back and forth, just making sure that it was watertight.

And apparently Jonathan got the news and immediately went to call his lawyer, which is the best move, too. You do nothing involving the law without a lawyer. The police try to make you feel guilty for wanting one, for not saying something, but no. They start talking to you, you get a lawyer. Jane hasn’t learned that one yet.

I guess Jonathan wanted us all together so we all heard the exact same thing out of his mouth, but it’s not like he’s preventing rumors. He got us together, and Alyssa went back to the desk and Lydia into the kitchen and Jonathan who knows where, but for the first time most of the rest of us clumped together in the dining room. Edgar left, because hey, he didn’t come here for the drama, but Percy went to the alcohol fridge and we pushed tables together.

Jane didn’t go off right away, but she left when she got sick of the way Emily and Henry formed this saucy united front. It was awkward, because it was nearly six by then, and I think all of us were keeping half an eye out for her to come back and get dinner, but she didn’t. Alyssa came in and put together a carryout box after Lydia laid it out, and after we all grabbed something, but Jane didn’t come back.

I’m guessing Alyssa delivered Jane’s dinner tonight. The way Percy made up a plate, and went back for seconds, and then made up his own box (well, presumably Mary’s box) before he departed, weaving a little but with more beer on hand. If Alyssa came back to get her own dinner, it was after the rest of us left.

Emily went off toward Henry’s cabin with him rather than coming toward hers, which is of course next to mine. I’m not sure she’s fine, but I’m sure it’s none of my business.

I’m not sure Jane’s fine, either, but first it’s not like we have each other’s cabins on speed dial, and second, I’m not here to look after someone else’s mental health. I can barely handle my own.

If I reach out about what’s happening, I’m making a phone call. I’m not putting things in a message that Jonathan himself has to type up, even if it’s not anything against him. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons he does it this way. If we call, Alyssa or Truman knows the frequency, if not the length of the call. If we email, Jonathan knows the entire contents of that email.

It’s supposed to make us reconsider whether we really need to reach out, and I get it, I do, but once again I have to question whether Loon Lake is the right choice for my situation. If we’re trying, as he says, to figure out whether we still want each other, and putting ourselves into positions where we can’t easily communicate with each other …

I’m going to sit here wondering if I want to call him until it’s too late to call him, and then I’m going to convince myself that I really don’t need to call him, and then I’ll tell myself I’m good on my own. Diary, I don’t want things the way they were in June, but I don’t like things the way they are right now, either.

---

Cold Comfort: Tuesday, July 9, 2024 – Alyssa, coming July 27