same homeowner’s association. Once you’ve joined the group, you’re bound by the code of the group and the penalties they’ve agreed to for violations of the code. Joining the group is an act of consent to the rules of the group. Just like forming a democracy requires an act of consent.”
Janie shrugged, “But you can always choose to quit, can’t you? Then you don’t have to follow the rules.”
“Right,” Hank smiled back. “But you can’t quit in the middle of something, and quitting doesn’t wipe out the moral obligations you already incurred before you quit. I mean, if you sign a lease on an apartment and decide later that you don’t want to live there, you still have to pay the rent.”
“But that means there are no real moral obligations. Everything is based solely on what people agree to. And that’s not right.” Janie shrugged, “You can’t opt out of a democracy. I mean, I’ve never consented to being an American, I was just born one.”
“Which is why the country has so many problems.” Hank leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “The very notion of civic responsibility has eroded to the point of nothing. We don’t value the social contract anymore because none of us ever really chose to join it. It was forced on us by virtue of being born here. Democracy doesn’t work unless everyone consents to it. It’s like Rousseau said, ‘You have to have a unanimous vote, at least the first time.’”
Janie smiled at him. What kind of surveyor was this? “So you think there’s more legitimacy to the laws of a homeowner’s association than the laws of the United States?”
Hank shrugged. “I’m just telling you what Fazioli meant.”
“You sound like you mean it too.”
Hank just sat there, spinning his empty glass on the table.
After a minute, Janie asked, “Doesn’t someone who stays in the United States rather than leave the country consent to its laws? Implicitly?”
Hank grimaced for a second. “That might have been true in the beginning. A guy who didn’t like what was going on could always head west, into the wilderness. But now, as a practical matter, you can’t just move to another country. So no. It’s impractical to opt out.”
“But is that really the key to our moral obligations to each other? Consenting or opting out of some agreement?”
“Of course.”
“But there are some laws you never consent to and can never opt out of.”
Hank leaned back in his chair, tipping it onto its rear legs, grinning. “Don’t tell me you believe in natural law.”
“I don’t know about that,” Janie said. “But I believe in the laws of nature. No one consents to gravity. You can’t opt out of the laws of motion.”
Hank laughed. “You can take the girl out of the physics department, but you can’t take the physics department out of the girl, eh?” He gave her a wink and set the legs of his chair back on the barroom floor.
Hank turned the conversation to the music, the pool table, his fondness for highland single malt. Janie listened without saying much. She just watched him. He seemed to have had enough serious talk for one evening. They ordered another round, drank it, and then the moment came: the long silent stare, eyes meeting eyes, gauging some primal frequency of attraction, an atavistic moment of assessment. No words were said, but there was communication beyond words, harkening back to a time before language, when only actions mattered. Two animals meeting in a native habitat, looking each other over, each determining that the other is an adequate breeding partner. And then come the understanding expressions, the slight and tender touches as they make their way back to the place where the act will be done.
Janie stretched in the bed, feeling restless but trying not to disturb him. She reached one arm off the bed and the tips of her fingers ran over the piled up equipment. Another contrast. She hadn’t believed he really was a surveyor until she saw it. She knew nothing about survey equipment, of course, but when she saw it she sensed immediately what it was and a twinge of disappointment went through her. The sudden death of a girlish fantasy she knew she was too old to feel. He was no different than the others. Why should she think he was? Just a guy who came to town to do a boring job and then leave. That’s all he ever said he was, why should she