CHAPTER
13
Miss Q's Story
I
was nineteen and still in high school when it happened. Just like most girls, at that age I was full of fantasies. I was passionate about everything that was beautiful: the flowers in the grass; summer; lovely skirts; ice cream. I loved my mom and dad very much. I knew that with my grades, I would be able to get into a decent university, and there I would meet a cute, handsome guy and we would get married... I simply did not believe there could be such a thing in this world as a bad person.
Thick curtains were drawn across the one window in the room, and the only light in the room came from a dim little lamp in the corner. It was very quiet; apart from Miss Q's hypnotic voice, the only sound in the room was the monotonous humming from the air conditioner on the wall.
They had rolled up the rug and stood it in one corner of the room. They formed a tight semi-circle around Miss Q as she sat on the floor, head drooped, telling her story; Luo Jiahai and Mr. H sat on one side, Mr. T and Jiang Dexian on the other, and Mr. Z sat across from her.
One afternoon I went with a classmate of mine to Chongqing Road to go clothes shopping. It was after 6:00 and the sun had set by the time we headed home. We each bought an ice cream and were eating them as we walked. Tons of people were walking in and out of shops on both sides of the street, and the whole place was very lively...
Moving quietly, Mr. Z turned on a mini tape recorder he had next to him. A moment later a din of noise filled the room. From the chaos of sounds, Luo Jiahai was vaguely able to discern car horns, pop music blaring out from various department stores, merchants hawking their wares, and snatches of conversation from pedestrians as they walked past. He closed his eyes, and all of a sudden it seemed like the five of them were there with her on a busy street in the city.
Miss Q shivered and buried her face in her hands. Mr. H stood and walked to a corner of the room where there was a small bar fridge. From its freezer he procured an ice cream cone. He then walked to Miss Q's side and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder.
"Try to relax, Q." He gently pulled her hand away from her face and placed the ice cream cone in her hand.
"Take a bite, Q." Mr. Z leaned forward a little, his voice soothing. "We're all here. Chin up, okay?"
It took a full 30 seconds or so for Miss Q to calm down. When she finally lifted her head, her pale cheeks were crisscrossed with tear stains. She smiled apologetically at everyone and raised the partly melted ice cream to her lips.
In the doorway to one of the shops there was this person dressed up as a huge teddy bear, dancing and waving at passersby as he handed out product flyers. We thought he was funny, so we stopped and watched for a while. I remember thinking how uncomfortable that person must feel, having to wear a big bear suit on such a hot day. When the bear noticed us standing there, it wobbled over with its arms wide and tried to hug us. My classmate laughed and dodged out of the way; we thought he was joking around. But then he suddenly turned toward me and locked his arms around me and squeezed. I was totally caught off-guard, so I just stood there stunned for half a second. But then I started to struggle, but the more I struggled, the tighter he squeezed. The bear's cute and cuddly face suddenly seemed fierce and sinister, and for a second I thought it was going to bite me. I don't know how long he tore at me—whether it was seconds or minutes. All I know is that by the time I finally got free of him, every single button on my blouse had been ripped open and the whole entire street was staring at me...
Miss Q lowered her head again and began choking up. The ice cream in her hand fell to the floor with a wet splat.
Mr. Z stared at Miss Q. "Keep going," he said gently.
Miss Q shook her head violently. "No! No! I'm afraid!"
Mr. Z did not press her. Instead he signaled for everyone to turn around so that no one was looking at her anymore.
This gave Miss Q a chance to settle down some, and after a few minutes she stopped sobbing.
"I'm sorry. Just now, with you all staring at me, it reminded me of how I felt that day when everyone on the street was gawking at my naked chest." Miss Q's voice was still thick and nasally from crying, but in it could be heard a note of determination. "Thank you, everyone. I guess I'll continue."
I ran home crying and stayed in bed sick for a whole week. My friends came to visit me, and one who didn't know what had happened brought me a giant stuffed animal. I took one look at it and fainted. A month later, I sat the college entrance exams, and you can guess how poorly I did. But that wasn't the worst thing; I discovered that I wasn't able to go near stuffed animals anymore, and any time I even saw one I had a strong negative reaction to it. At first I thought my problem would go away with time, but even after I was at the university it was still with me, following me everywhere I went like a shadow. And it was getting worse. I couldn't even wear clothes made of wool; it was as if anything I wore that was the slightest bit fuzzy might grab me by the neck and choke me until I couldn't breathe. I'm sure you all know how many stuffed animals there are in the typical girls' dormitory at a university. I remember this one time one of my roommates, the girl across from me, got a big teddy bear gift from her boyfriend. It made her really happy, and she kept it on her bed. But for me, that thing was a nightmare. I can't explain what it felt like to come back from class and push the door open to find a giant, tan teddy bear sitting on the bed, glaring at me and grinning wickedly... My legs went weak...
Miss Q was trembling, her knees drawn up against her chest as if she were trying to shrink into a tiny ball.
"When you saw the toy bear—was there an expression on its face?" Jiang Dexian asked tenderly.
"Yes." Miss Q nodded. "Actually, I was sure I was seeing things; toy bears don't have facial expressions; even if they are made with one, it's usually a charming one, like the sort of smile I used to have all the time when I was nineteen. And their expressions can't change. But every time I look at something like that, I always get a really strong feeling..."
Mr. T glanced at the rolled up rug standing in the corner. "What sort of feeling?"
Miss Q squirmed uneasily and looked up at them. "Shame," she whispered.
"Shame?"
"Yes." She stared into the air in front of her through, her eyes blank. "Just like...like everyone's looking at me, and I'm completely naked."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Miss Q lost all control and broke down crying.
With a look of pity in his eyes, Mr. T stood and moved as if to console her, but hesitated, apparently unsure whether that would be appropriate or not. He looked over his shoulder at Mr. Z. Mr. Z nodded at him and turned the tape recorder off.
Everyone, including Luo Jiahai, moved closer to Miss Q, surrounding her, holding her hands, stroking her hair, muttering soft words of comfort and encouragement. Miss Q wrapped her fingers around Mr. T's hand and clutched it tightly as she bawled her heart out.
When she gradually calmed down, Mr. Z said, "You're very brave, Q."
"Th-thank you," she stuttered, wiping the corners of her eyes. "Thank you all."
The five men looked at each other and smiled.
"I'm sure we'll all get better." Miss Q made a fist with both hands and thumped it down against her knee. "I'm sure of it."
CHAPTER
14
A Show of Pain ( Part 1 )
C
igarette in hand, Fang Mu leaned back in his chair and stared at the bulletin board on the opposite wall. On it were pinned photographs of various sizes, all of Luo Jiahai.
With the city locked-down as tightly as it now was, the chances that Luo Jiahai could escape were close to nil. Furthermore, by all indications, he had not even attempted to leave Changhong City, so he was almost definitely still hiding there somewhere. The real question was: Why had he broken out of the detention center if he was just going to stay within the city?
Fang Mu picked up a pen and drew a circle on the note pad in front of him. The ink had the effect of making the word written in the center stand out even more: Revenge.
In the days since Luo Jiahai escaped from captivity, Fang Mu had begun to question his own judgment. Still, after collecting all the information he could and going over it again and again, he remained convinced that certain conclusions he had drawn about Luo Jiahai were, in fact, correct. For example, his love for Shen Xiang. Perhaps that had been Luo Jiahai's motive for breaking out of prison.
Luo Jiahai's personality was very capable of feeling a need for revenge. He had chosen to break out of prison, but to remain in Changhong City, where Shen Xiang had lived. He would not have done this only to then turn around and look for a way out of the city. Shen Xiang's rape had occurred in Changhong City; could he be staying in order to find the person who raped her?
Fang Mu shook his head. Luo Jiahai would be stupid to try it. No rape report had even been filed, and the only one who had witnessed it – Shen Xiang herself – was now dead. Without a single clue to go on, trying to find a rapist more than 10 years after the crime would be like trying to find a rusty knife under the city landfill. Unless…
Unless someone was helping him.
Fang Mu scribbled a couple more words on the note pad and stared at them: Jiang Dexian.
The door to the office burst open and Bian Ping's torso leaned in, nostrils flared. "Let's go. I need your help with something."
Fang Mu followed Bian Ping all the way upstairs to the conference room on the top floor. As they entered, he saw a man in a dark suit waiting at the table. Soon after they sat down, two more people from the Psychology Research Institute joined them.
Bian Ping started by introducing the man in the suit. “This is Yang Jincheng, director of the Psychology Research Institute, and a prominent expert in psychology and psychotherapy."
Yang Jincheng nodded and made a barely detectable bow. "At your service, everybody."
Bian Ping spread his hands. "No need to be so polite, Director Yang. You may have asked us to do you a favor, but it would be far more accurate to say that today we've been blessed with a unique opportunity to learn from your expertise." He picked up a pile of documents and began handing them around the table. "Please take a look, folks."
Fang Mu took one of the folders and opened it to find a résumé, at the top right corner of which was a name. "Lu Xu?" he said out loud.
"That's right," Bian Ping said, looking at him. "Lu Xu was the motorcycle cop who was injured during the massive pile-up the other day. While he was recovering at the hospital, he experienced some very intense mood swings that predominantly manifested in the form of insomnia, irritability, a reduced sense of identity, and so on. After the doctors closely monitored his symptoms for a while, he was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."
"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," one of the men repeated under his breath.
"Exactly." Bian Ping's eyes moved from face to face around the table as he continued in a grave tone of voice. "The patient is one of our own, so I want everyone to give Director Yang their full cooperation on this. Let's help Lu Xu find his way out of his condition as soon as possible." When he was finished, he turned to look at Yang Jincheng.
Yang Jincheng smiled and began to speak in a manner that was neither hurried nor slow. "I was asked by the City Hospital and the Public Security Bureau to provide Officer Lu Xu with my assistance. From now on I'll be referring to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder simply as PTSD. It is a mental disorder resulting from psychological trauma that is caused by a sudden or catastrophic threat of violence which can lead to chronic symptoms of mental dysfunction. I am personally very interested in this condition, and have conducted quite a bit of research on the subject. If I can be of help to Officer Lu Xu, it will please me to no end. Of course, all of you are experts on various aspects of psychology yourselves, so to a very real extent I will need to rely on your assistance as well."
He came across as both professional and down-to-earth, and beneath his humble demeanor he seemed to carry himself with a certain air of nobility.
Fang Mu was keenly aware that Bian Ping's not having mentioned such things as the jail break or the missing gun had been intentional. Suddenly his own obsession with finding Luo Jiahai and his neglect at having not even given any thought to the wounded officer caused a wave of shame to well up in him.
"Okay, so, what should we do?" Fang Mu asked.
"The treatment of PTSD is a step-by-step process. If you will all allow me, I will be happy to organize and assign to you the various tasks needing done." Yang Jincheng's features relaxed even further. "The first thing we need to do is to chat with Officer Lu Xu and lead him to a balanced state of mind with the appropriate mixture of alertness and relaxation. You could call it warming him up."
"Are you talking about psychodrama?" Fang Mu blurted.
"Yes; that is correct." Yang Jincheng seemed a little surprised. He looked Fang Mu up and down for a moment and turned to Bian Ping, emitting a small laugh. "I thought the psychologists employed by the police force were all exclusively interested in criminology, but here it turns out you have someone who has studied treatment methodology as well."
Bian Ping chuckled, a pleased look claiming his face. Fang Mu's ears were red, but he was inwardly excited. Psychodrama was a form of group therapy that was used to treat PTSD. Over the course of nearly a century, from traditional re-enactment and abreaction to the addition of ceremony and narrative, psychodrama had been successfully employed to cure a great number of trauma cases. However, due to its complexity, its dramatic nature, and the relatively high level of expertise required of its practitioners, it was not a widely used form of treatment for PTSD in the country.
If Dr. Yang was indeed a psychodrama specialist, then perhaps there was hope for Lu Xu to be cured.
Half an hour later, they were in a smaller conference room sitting in a semi-circle around a cushioned chair. In that chair sat Lu Xu, still wearing a few bandages and looking very uncomfortable. After listening to Captain Bian Ping's introductions, he seemed to relax a little once he realized that most of the people in the room worked in the police force.
"Officer Lu," Yang Jincheng said, smiling from a chair directly across from his, "are you able to chat with us about what happened that day?"
An identical scene was playing out on the other side of the city.
The room was bustling with activity. Only Miss Q remained seated; from her chair she watched as Mr. Z hurried back and forth, giving the others instructions on where to stand and what to do. For everything they did, they always had to solicit Miss Q's opinion or read the expression on her face. In this way they completed various tasks, such as dimming the lights until it was nearly as dark as dusk. They also raised the air temperature to 82 degrees Fahrenheit and erected a privacy screen in one corner of the room. Behind the screen, Luo Jiahai hid with a large bag full of things. They unfurled the rug, then rolled it up again and stood it back up in another corner.
When everything was finished to his satisfaction, Mr. Z walked over to Miss Q and leaned close to her. "So...who do you choose to play you?"
Miss Q pointed at Mr. T. "Him."
Mr. T took off his jacket and picked up a white blouse that had been draped over the privacy screen. No sooner had he put it on than Miss Q called out.
"No!" She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, seeming to be struggling internally with something. "…I'll do it."
"Are you sure?" Mr. Z asked, leveling a steady gaze at her eyes.
"I'm sure." Her meek voice was trembling a little, but she sounded determined.
He smiled and reached to gently push her bangs from her face. "Okay. You are a very brave girl, you know."
Miss Q stood and walked slowly to the center of the room. With her right hand she grasped her collar and squeezed, as if at any moment she might tear open her blouse and reveal her pale, white chest. As she focused her gaze on the privacy screen, she looked both terrified and apprehensive, and her breaths came more and more quickly.
Mr. Z made a signal with his hand for everyone to turn around, and everyone obeyed immediately.
Seeing this, Miss Q hesitated for a few seconds, and then whispered, "It's okay... Everyone, go ahead and face me."
A smile spread across Mr. Z's features. "Very good. This is a very good beginning, Q."
She glanced from face to face and took a deep breath. "T, you play my classmate, okay?"
Mr. T made a face. "I'd be honored."
The stage was set, the props were all in place, and the actors were ready. The play was about to begin.
Mr. Z pressed PLAY on the tape recorder.
Again the room was filled with a cacophonous din of noise, and they were back on the noisy city street.
Miss Q's steps faltered at the noise. In one hand she carried an ice cream cone, and in the other she held two large shopping bags full of garments. She was staring at the privacy screen, her eyes already beginning to brim with tears.
Jiang Dexian and Mr. H, playing the role of pedestrians, had already walked back and forth twice. Miss Q's feet remained firmly planted. Mr. T threw an anxious look at Mr. Z.
The latter gazed calmly at Miss Q and said quietly, "Q, let's keep going, okay?"
Miss Q cleared her throat and continued staring at the privacy screen, but her long eyelashes had fluttered at the sound of Mr. Z's voice.
At long last she took a trembling step forward.
Just then, an enormous teddy bear with yellow fur stepped out from behind the privacy screen.
It was not only Miss Q who felt a wave of horror waft over her. It was genuinely a very disturbing scene, after all.
A darkening street; a giant bear lurching toward a fragile girl. A dreadful grin splitting its hairy face, and the button-like black eyes seeming to stretch open a little as the enraged teddy bear charged at the girl with arms wide…
Miss Q screamed and stiffly backed away…
A few minutes later she awoke, groggy, to the sight of Mr. T's anxious face. Then in turn she saw Jiang Dexian, Mr. H, and Mr. Z. The terrible bear face was nowhere to be seen, and Miss Q relaxed a little.
After gulping down half a cup of water offered to her, she struggled to her feet. "Continue."
Mr. Z eyed her. "Are you sure, Q?"
"I'm sure." She turned to look at Mr. T. "Ready?"
Mr. T looked at Mr. Z, obviously ill at ease. "If you don't feel well, we can do this another day..."
"Continue!" The volume of Miss Q's voice had gone up a notch, startling everyone.