Skinner's Box (Fang Mu (Eastern Crimes)) (17 page)

A silence fell over the room.

Shaking uncontrollably, she took a moment to smooth the wrinkles from her clothing. "Yesterday I went with my manager to sign a contract, and by way of thanks he sent me two stuffed animal versions of their mascot," she mumbled. "Can you all imagine how…at the time…how awkward I felt?"

Mr. Z inhaled deeply and waved his hands to ready everyone. "Again, from the top!"

Again it played out.

Scene 1: Miss Q and the teddy bear stand facing each other in silence. She is still shaking violently, but she is able to bring herself to look directly into the creature's horribly furry face.

Scene 2: The giant teddy bear reaches its formidable arms around Miss Q and squeezes. Miss Q drops the bags and the ice cream to the ground, thrashes about in an effort to escape. Her jacket is already half off. Pedestrians Jiang Dexian and Mr. H shuffle past, eyes straight ahead.

Mr. Z: "Q, no one is looking at you. It's all in your imagination."

Miss Q's struggles intensified.

Scene 3: Miss Q continues to struggle. The giant teddy bear no longer has complete control over her. Soon Miss Q is able to get one of her arms loose.

Mr. Z: "Don't be afraid, Q. That's what they want; to terrify you, so that they can record your terror. Are you going to let them get what they want without a fight?"

Miss Q: "No!"

Her features twist in anger as she pulls her other arm free from the bear's awful grip. Out of breath, she is now face to face with the teddy bear.

Mr. Z: "Hit it! Hit it, Q!"

As the words leave his mouth, Miss Q is already beating at the teddy bear with her fists. It retreats step by step, seeming unable to ward off her attacks. Miss Q continues to pound at its face until she has forced it all the way over to the privacy screen.

"Aghh…!"
Miss Q screams, shoving both hands forward with all her might.

The teddy bear and the privacy screen topple over together in a heap.

Half an hour later the room had recovered some semblance of normalcy. The plush rug had once again been spread out on the floor and everyone was sitting around the little square table, drinking tea.

As before, Miss Q sat on one of the squat little stools, but she seemed to have regained her composure. Hair tied up in a ponytail, she poured a cup of tea for Luo Jiahai as he sat rubbing his chin.

"I'm sorry, L," she said.

"It's nothing." Luo Jiahai put his hand on his lap, revealing a chin that was red and swollen from her assault. "You've got quite a set of fists on you."

Everyone laughed. Mr. T put his hand on Luo Jiahai's shoulder and squeezed.

Glancing at Miss Q's toes where she had them placed gingerly on the surface of the rug, Mr. Z took a sip of tea and said very slowly, "There's still something you must do."

Everyone stopped talking. Miss Q's hands began to shake again, causing some of her tea to slop onto the table.

"Do I have to?" she whispered.

"Yes. We've got to follow this thing through to the end." Mr. Z's tone was quiet but firm. "That's the whole reason we're all here together."

From inside his jacket he procured a folder. Opening it, he withdrew a photograph and placed it on the table. In the photo a man dressed in plain clothes stood under a bus stop sign, idly smoking a cigarette.

Mr. Z reached his hands out to the people on either side of him, and everyone else did the same. Soon the six of them had formed a circle. They all stared at the man in the photograph.

If looks could carry heat, he would have been reduced to ashes.

CHAPTER
15
A Show of Pain (Part 2)

B
oth hands on the fence railing, the boy had his gaze focused on the children that were frolicking and chasing each other around the courtyard on the other side. Their screams and laughter were contagious, and the boy could not help but smile along with them. His field of view was limited, so he did not notice the girl as she slowly inched along the inside of the fence toward him from the other side.

"Hi."

The boy turned his head in fright to face her, and then quickly drew a hand up to cover the two red marks that stretched across his filthy face. When he saw that she was just an older girl standing a little ways away smiling at him through the rails, he seemed to relax, but then he hung his head sheepishly.

She squatted down in front of him so they were more eyelevel. "What's your name?"

Head still down, the boy crouched and returned his hands to the fence rails, but did not answer.

A moment later she reached her hand in-between the bars to touch the red mark on his face. Instinctively he began to pull away, but when he felt how warm and delicate her fingers were on his skin, he tilted his head a little ways forward so that she could continue.

"My name's Liao Yafan. What's yours?"

He looked up at her white teeth and pretty smile. He looked back down at his feet. "I'm He Jing."

"Why aren't you at home?"

A moment passed before the boy answered. "I don't wanna go home. Home's no good."

"Silly-billy," Liao Yafan admonished as she tousled his hair. "Home is the best place on earth."

"I don't have anyone to play with me at home." He looked past her at the lively scene playing out in the courtyard. "My home's not like your home. It's fun here."

"My home?" Liao Yafan's expression clouded. She withdrew her hand and looked over her shoulder at the little building and courtyard that made up Angel Hall. In the gathering dusk with its mingling trails of smoke, the scene triggered in her an unbidden feeling of annoyance. It somehow felt akin to touching the surface of an oily old stove that had not been cleaned in a very long time.

"Yeah, that's my home." She sighed and turned back to look at the boy, but he was gone. When she stood she could see him running, already on the other side of the street, his backpack bouncing along and looking far too big for his tiny frame.

"Do you know him?" Fang Mu had come up to the fence, catching Liao Yafan unaware.

"Oh, hi, Uncle Fang," she murmured hastily.

He nodded at her and squinted after the little boy's figure as it shrank with distance. "I've been seeing that kid around."

"Yeah, he always hangs around just outside the fence." They both watched the boy as he disappeared around a corner. "His name's He Jing."

"Humph," he snorted. "No, his name's not He Jing."

She looked at him in surprise. She was about to ask further, but already he had turned to walk back along the inside of the fence toward the front gate. She walked back into the courtyard, a puzzled expression on her face.

Fang Mu had brought some winter clothes for the children. One of the bags contained some brand new pants of the latest fashion; it went without saying that these were for Liao Yafan alone. Fang Mu's visit had taken Teacher Zhou by surprise; he handed the clothes to Sister Zhao and gave her a few instructions, and then took Fang Mu for a stroll through around the courtyard.

The weather was getting colder and all the trees around the courtyard were beginning to lose their autumn foliage. Compared to its lush vivacity in summer, the place now looked withered and rundown. Fang Mu got this feeling not only from the outward appearance of the orphanage, but from the old man next to him as well.

He had last seen him only a month ago, but what remained of Teacher Zhou's hair had gone significantly whiter and his posture was more stooped than it had been. They wandered in leisurely circles around the flowerbeds, smoking together in silence. Now and then Teacher Zhou was racked with coughing, and the sound seemed all the louder in the cold twilight air. As if bound by some unspoken contract, the children playing in the courtyard grew quiet all at once, and began to leave the courtyard to disappear one by one inside.

Teacher Zhou did not notice the children leave; he seemed engrossed in placing one foot in front of the other. After he finished a second cigarette, he suddenly broke the silence. "How's the case going?"

Fang Mu did not answer right away. "Which case?" he finally asked.

"The prison break one."

Fang Mu sighed. "No progress." He noticed the concerned look on Teacher Zhou's face and added, "Don't worry about me, old man. You've got more than enough to worry about already."

Teacher Zhou pressed his lips into a thin smile. "I was just asking; that's all." But the frown returned as he fell silent again.

After they made another round of the courtyard, Teacher Zhou spoke again. "If they catch that kid, will he be put to death?"

Fang Mu hesitated. "Yes. Just the first-degree murder charge is enough for that, not to mention his other crimes…"

Teacher Zhou drew a long, deep breath. "Heaven protect him."

"It's no use." Fang Mu shook his head. "He made the wrong choice, so he has to pay for it."

Teacher Zhou's shoulders seemed to shake a little in the dark, and a moment later he sighed again.

Fang Mu could see that the man had something on his mind and was about to ask what it was when Sister Zhao's cheerful voice rang out across the courtyard.

"Old Zhou, Little Fang! Dinner time!"

They waved and made their way back toward the building. When they reached the doorway, Teacher Zhou asked, "That girl – the one named Shen Xiang – where was she buried?"

Fang Mu thought about it a moment. "Pretty sure her ashes are in Dragon Peak Cemetery. Her parents bought a plot for her there."

"Ah..." Teacher Zhou put his hand in the middle of Fang Mu's back and prodded him gently in through the door. "Go on in; dinner will be on the table by now."

After the meal, Teacher Zhou still looked very out of sorts, so deciding it was best not to stick around too long, Fang Mu said his goodbyes. As he walked past Sister Zhao's room he stole a glance through the open door, but the room appeared empty. He continued a few steps further, but then he paused, turned, and walked back to the doorway, where he stood staring at the portrait of Sister Zhao's son for a long time.

What unbearable thing could have led an eight-year-old boy to end his own life?

He could still hear the faint sounds of children monkeying around upstairs. Fang Mu did not know who was luckier: those whose lives had been abandoned or this one staring out from the picture frame in front of him.

He walked over to the chest of drawers and lit a stick of incense and then stood it in the burner.

"Thank you, Little Fang."

Fang Mu turned to find Sister Zhao leaning against the doorframe, staring at the picture frame with a loving look on her face. In contrast to the bustling and capable personality she exuded during the day, she now looked more like a tired and happy old mother.

"Weiwei, this is Uncle Fang, come to see you." Sister Zhao crept over and reached out to touch the edge of the picture frame as one might touch the tender face of a child. "He would be grateful to you." She turned and smiled up at Fang Mu. "Weiwei was a very sensible little boy."

Fang Mu gave her a slow, sympathetic nod. "Don't be sad, Sister Zhao," he whispered. "You must think of your health."

"Oh, I'm not sad," she said calmly. "I know my son will come back to me."

Lu Xu, male, 25 years of age; Bachelor’s Degree; currently working for the police force, badge number C09748; unmarried. Patient's external behavioral manifestations: Insomnia, irritability, feelings of inadequacy, difficulty communicating, sexual dysfunction.

Past history and current living situation: Patient's family life was normal; both parents worked in a state-owned enterprise; he always got top marks in school for academic studies and moral behavior. After graduating from the China Criminal Police University, he joined the ranks of the Public Security Bureau. There he proved himself to be capable and hard-working, received praise from both superiors and coworkers, and six months ago was promoted to the rank of police sergeant second class. One and a half months ago, the patient received orders to pursue and apprehend an escaped convict. While in pursuit, he was injured in a traffic accident, and around the same time the patient's service revolver went missing. As a result of the traffic accident the patient received a light concussion, cervical contusions, and several soft tissue wounds at various places on his body.

After undergoing medical treatment, the patient has essentially recovered from his injuries. However, over the course of his recovery the patient has manifested severe mood swings; he suffers chronic insomnia, which sedatives have done nothing to alleviate; he is irritable and has destructive and violent tendencies; he has low self-esteem and is unable to regain self-confidence; he is unable to communicate normally with his family members and coworkers, for he constantly feels that they are discussing the accident behind his back and that they hold him accountable for what happened. In addition, the patient has said that he is incapable of having normal sexual relations with his girlfriend due to erectile dysfunction and that he feels like he is a "cripple."

History of patient's psychological development: 1. Previous factors: The patient grew up in an ordinary household; relying on his individual efforts, he tested into university and became a civil servant. Because of this fact, his family has put all their pride and hope in him, and the patient has pushed himself in an effort to change his family's lot in life. Furthermore, from early childhood on, the patient received a decent education and developed a strong sense of self-worth; after joining the PSB, he felt very proud to be serving as a member of the police force.

2. Contributing factors: Due to a traffic accident that occurred while in pursuit of an escaped convict, the patient was unable to fulfill his orders and lost his service revolver in the process. His psychological make-up is such that he has trouble accepting failure, and this led to a deep psychological trauma.

Experts' analysis and proposed treatment: The patient's symptoms are in accordance with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Psychodrama is the recommended treatment method. Detailed steps as follows:

Stage I: Preparation, including safety assurances, further psychological assessments, and the establishment of a therapeutic relationship.

Stage II: Put a halt to feelings of insecurity and self-confirmed loss.

Stage III: Replay of the traumatic scenario in question. Contain the effects of traumatic stress, and integrate them into a unified individual system.

Stage IV: Reconnect the patient with the real world, and redefine the consequences of the trauma as they relate to the patient and the world. Intervene with further treatment actions as the need arises.

Fang Mu had his shirt off and was wiping sweat from his forehead as he went over in his head the treatment plan Yang Jincheng had formulated for Lu Xu. During Stage II, Yang Jincheng had introduced an active element: hand-to-hand combat and shooting practice. Apparently he hoped to use these exercises to restore Lu Xu's sense of control over his own body and enhance his sense of identity. The thing about the protocol that really dampened Fang Mu's spirits was that Yang Jincheng had asked him to accompany Lu Xu and perform these exercises with him.