Page 54 of Maximum
“The Red Manor Cult,” I said in a leveled voice. “Back in Ireland.”
“Yes, she mentioned that much and I did a quick research. Very tragic story.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know Conor O’Brien. There isn’t a club for cult leaders where we exchange ways to brainwash our followers, if that’s what you wonder.”
I frowned. “Good to know.”
“I’m only mentioning it because it would be natural for you to project your anger toward the leader onto me, but I’m not him and I didn’t kill any of my followers. From what I can read, Conor was very different from me.”
“How so?”
“Well, for one he was a psychopathic killer while I’m peaceful and loving.”
Crossing my arms, I lowered my brow. “Conor was my father and if he were here, he would have described himself as peaceful and loving. How can we be sure you’re not a psychopath?”
“Because although my time as a leader of the Expanded Consciousness Group may have brought out my vain and narcissistic side, I can assure you that I’m fully capable of feeling shame for what I did.”
“Do you mind if we record our conversation?” Fleur asked and it struck me that it was a good thing she was here. I had Jolene’s and Atlas’ questions on my phone, but I hadn’t even taken it out of my pocket. The moment, Anthony had begun talking, I’d been overwhelmed with my own questions and he was right, the anger I’d felt toward my father for half of my life was dripping into my blood, like an iceberg thawing and creating streams of water that had been still and contained for so long.
“Tell me about your shame.” My eyes were intensely focused on him.
Anthony studied me with the same type of intelligent eyes as my father had once had. “When I was in my early twenties, I went to India for three years, studying with some of the best spiritual teachers in the world. I was a natural and they praised me for being enlightened. The community of westerners studying with the gurus heard the praise and came to me for support in their own spiritual journey.
“I was happy to help and soon I was invited to visit with spiritual groups around the world.
“Fast forward to my late twenties. I was tired of airports and the nomad life I’d been living, so I began airing the idea of settling down in a permanent residency. People from around the world showed an interest in forming a community where we could meditate and do spiritual work. We bought an old summer camp in the US and moved in the summer I turned thirty. For years, it was a dynamic place buzzing with new ideas, optimism, friendship, and a sense of real community, but…” Anthony leaned his head to one side. “Where there are people, there’s drama. Our community grew to around a hundred people and I was often brought into conflicts that involved marital problems, money problems, and what have you. It frustrated me that the members of our community didn’t take their spiritual growth as seriously as I did. I encouraged them to cut ties with the outside world for a while and dedicate themselves to becoming the best version they could be. After all, I’d given up my time in Asia to help them. I’d put up pictures of myself in the houses to remind them why they were here; they wanted to learn from me. I was their teacher and they were all my children in a sense. I tried bringing in stricter discipline by enforcing rigid meditation time, but the more I tried to help them, the more tense things got. The members quarreled like children fighting for my attention. Every one of them trying to outdo the other.” Anthony sighed, his eyes glazing over with memories.
“Were you aware that what you had created was a cult?” I asked,
“Cult…” He gave a small scoff. “That label is something outsiders come up with. Do you know the saying that a cult is when the leader is in the room while a religion is when he's in the grave? I never thought of it as a cult. To me and the members, Expanded Consciousness was merely a group of like-minded people.”
“But do you recognize that what you created was a cult?”
“Yes.” Anthony blinked his eyes and focused in on me. “It took me a long time to come to terms with what had happened and I’m still processing, I suppose.”
“How did it end?” Fleur asked.
“Twelve years into the existence of our group, we’d become isolated. People joked we were the Amish 2.0 because we had computers and cars, but we kept to ourselves, growing our own vegetables, fruits, and crops. The members were well educated and intelligent, but most worked freelance jobs they could do online and we all shared the income.
“The end came sneaking slowly with whispers of discontent. Two years prior to the dissolution of the group, I’d imposed celibacy on all the members to keep them focused on their personal growth. It may sound extreme, but it was a way to provide us all with a needed break from all the physical distractions.”
“And before that? The physical distractions you talked about, was that about you having sex with your followers?”
Anthony moved in his seat but answered in a calm voice. “It happened.”
“And were you involved in the infidelity drama you talked about?”
“I was single and as I said, members of the group were eager to be close to me. Sometimes, it got complicated.”
“Hmm… I see. So where did it go wrong?”
Anthony leaned his head to one side with a thoughtful expression. “Thinking back, I felt so sure in the beginning that everything I did or said was coming from the pure source of my intuition. But then as disgruntled members began challenging my decisions and motives for celibacy, I realized that what I thought was intuition was sometimes ego, desires, and fear. I suppose it’s true that the moment you claim to be enlightened, you’re not.”
“Do you regret starting the cult?”
He hesitated before he answered, “You know what they say, a mistake that makes you humble is much better than an achievement that makes you arrogant.”
