Page 32 of Adultery

"Yes, there is light at the end of the tunnel, if that's what you mean. But sometimes, when the person crosses through the darkness and reaches the other side, he leaves an enormous path of destruction behind him."

Perfect, back to the subject of your method.

"It's not my method. It has been used for many years against stress, depression, irritability, suicide attempts, and the numerous other ways mankind has found to harm himself." My God, I've found the right person. I need to keep my cool.

We could call it a ...

"... self-induced trance. Self-hypnosis. Meditation. Every culture has a name for it. But remember that the Medical Society of Switzerland doesn't look kindly upon these things."

I explain that I do yoga and that I still can't manage to reach the state where problems are sorted out and solved.

"Are we talking about you or a story for the newspaper?"

Both. I let down my guard because I know I have no secrets with this man. I was sure of it the moment he asked me to look into his eyes. I explain that his concern with anonymity is absolutely ridiculous--a lot of people know that he sees people at his house in Veyrier. And many people, including prison security guards, use his services. That's what the guy at the paper explained to me.

"Your problem is with the night," he says.

Yes, that's my problem. Why?

"At night, simply because it is night, we are able to revive our childhood terrors: the fear of being alone, the fear of the unknown. But if we can defeat these ghosts, we will easily defeat the ones that appear during the day. We will not fear the darkness because we are partners of the light."

I feel like I'm sitting with a schoolteacher who is explaining the obvious. Could I go to your house to do a ...

"... an exorcism?"

That hadn't occurred to me, but it is exactly what I need.

"There is no need. I see a lot of darkness in you, but also a lot of light. And in this case, I'm sure that in the end the light will overcome."

I'm on the verge of tears. The man is actually delving into my soul, and I can't explain exactly how.

"Let yourself get carried away by the night from time to time. Look up at the stars and try to get drunk on the sense of infinity. The night, with all its charms, is also a path to enlightenment. Just as a dark well has thirst-quenching water at its bottom, the night, whose mystery brings us closer to the mystery of God, has a flame capable of enkindling our soul hidden in its shadows."

We talk for almost two hours. He insists I need nothing more than to let myself be carried away--and that even my greatest fears are unfounded. I explain my desire for revenge. He listens without commenting or judging a single word. The longer we speak, the better I begin to feel.

He suggests we leave and walk through the park. At one of its gates are huge plastic chess pieces and several black and white squares painted on the ground. Some people are playing, despite the cold weather.

He hardly says anything more; I keep on talking nonstop, sometimes thankful and sometimes cursing the life I lead. We stop in front of one of the giant chessboards. He seems more attentive to the game than to my words. I stop whining and also start following the game, though it doesn't interest me one bit.

"Go all the way," he says.

Go all the way? Cheat on my husband, put the cocaine in my rival's purse, and call the police?

He laughs.

"Do

you see these players? They always have to make the next move. They can't stop in the middle, because that means accepting defeat. There comes a time when defeat is inevitable, but at least they fought until the end. We already have everything we need. There is nothing to improve. Thinking we are good or bad, fair or unfair, all that is nonsense. We know that today Geneva is covered by a cloud that might take months to go away, but sooner or later, it will leave. So go ahead and let yourself go."

Not one word to stop me from doing something I shouldn't?

"No. By doing what you shouldn't, you will realize it yourself. As I said in the restaurant, the light in your soul is greater than the darkness. But for this you must go all the way to the end of the game."

In my whole life, I don't think that I've ever heard such a preposterous piece of advice. I thank him for his time, ask if I owe him anything. He says no.

Back at the newspaper, the editor asks what took me so long. I explain that because it's a rather unorthodox topic, it took me a long time to get what I needed.

"And since it's not all that orthodox, might we be encouraging any unlawful activity?"

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