Pathological

by Jinkang Wang

  Jingshuan nodded. “I know. I’ll do my best to deny everything in court. And if you get sent to jail, I’ll wait for you.”

  Mei Yin said placidly, “I might not make it. I’ll probably get twenty years.”

  “It doesn’t matter how many years. I’ll wait for you.”

  They dropped the subject and looked down at Xiaoxue. Her whole face was red, the blisters covering almost every surface of skin, the few clear patches blotchy and swollen. Her eyes were shut, their long lashes trembling from time to time, and her lips were moving too, as if praying to some god through the gloom. Mei Yin said painfully, “Everything Xiaoxue’s suffering now, I caused.”

  “Try not to blame yourself. Mr. Dickerson was right, illness is an evil mankind will never be free of. And he said God loves the species, not the individual, and that’s what his great love means. You taught me these ideas.”

  “I know. I don’t regret what I did. It’s just, seeing Xiaoxue like this . . . Jingshuan, my period came yesterday,” she said abruptly. “I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to have a child for you and Granny. There isn’t enough time.”

  Jingshuan let out a breath. “Let’s not force it, then. We’ll obey our fate.”

  Xiaoxue suddenly sat up in bed, manic again. Mei Yin quickly held down her left arm, which had a drip line sticking out of it. Xiaoxue mumbled, “Mommy, take me home.”

  Her eyes were shut, and this was obviously the fever talking. Mei Yin stroked her face, her heart aching. “Xiaoxue, get better soon. When you’re well, Mommy will bring you home. All right?”

  “Mommy, bring me home. Don’t go to prison.”

  The couple were shocked. Wasn’t she delirious? Yet she must have heard and understood what the two of them had been talking about. They studied her, but her eyes were shut and her face blank, and she had obviously sunk back into unconsciousness. Mei Yin’s eyes reddened as she murmured over and over, “Xiaoxue, get well soon, when you’re well, Mommy and Daddy will bring you home, to our home. All right?”

  Xue Yu led Department Head Yang of the Nanyang CDC to the lab at Heavenly Corp. to collect a sample. Along with them were Director Zhang, Mayor Tang, and Deputy Mayor Jin, as well as Mr. Matsumoto from the WHO and a dozen journalists, both Chinese and foreign. The collection took place as everyone watched (safely behind a glass window). Three specimens were taken, one for the Institute of Microbiology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences; another for the CDC in Atlanta, Georgia; and the third for the WHO lab in Geneva. This arrangement was Director Zhang’s idea, and everyone familiar with the unspoken rules of Chinese bureaucracy worried he was putting himself at risk by involving so many parties. But China had been accused of insufficient transparency during the SARS incident, and if they tried to keep things under wraps this time, made-up headlines would surely be on the Internet by that evening: Chinese Army Manufacturing Biological Weapons in Secret Nanyang Lab, Recent Leak Causes Smallpox Outbreak!

  Director Zhang took a certain amount of confidence in knowing that China in fact had no such secret labs, that this had been Mei Yin acting alone (he thought furiously how reckless this American woman was!), so what was there to hide? Far better to allow the WHO representative and the foreign journalists to report the truth of the matter. The three labs would all be very cautious, and not make any announcements for three or four days at least. He felt reassured because the reporters who’d witnessed the collection process didn’t seem in a hurry to manufacture news items, but confined themselves to careful reports on whether there’d been any progress or not.

  When the three organizations simultaneously revealed their findings five days later, it caused an enormous public controversy.

  Mei Yin and Jingshuan had known all along what the results would be—the virus in the lab wasn’t white pox, but the smallpox she’d brought back from Russia—but before the announcement, they avoided the topic altogether, focusing on caring for Xiaoxue and the other children. The orphanage had been divided by a quarantine line across the courtyard, on one side the children with mild infections, taken care of by Mother Liu and Mother Chen, while on the other were Mei Xiaoxue, Mei Xiaokai, and Little Niu, looked after by the newlyweds. The mothers worried endlessly, and kept shouting across the dividing line, asking how Xiaoxue and the rest were doing.

  Another piece of bad news emerged: Dr. Ma, the first to report the outbreak, had died. So far, he was the only fatality. Though Mei Yin and Jingshuan knew that “disease is an evil mankind will never get away from,” it was still hard to bear a death that actually touched them. Dr. Ma’s death also meant Mei Yin would get a heavier sentence, though this wasn’t her main concern.

  Ever since joining her adoptive father’s Crucifix Society, she’d been prepared for this ending.

  Xiaoxue’s symptoms weren’t improving, and now several doctors and nurses in protective gear busied themselves by her bedside, bringing in an oxygen tank, a respirator, and other emergency equipment. The smallpox infection would be at its most contagious when the blisters erupted, but Mei Yin cared for Xiaoxue without any protective gear, not even a mask, turning her over, wiping away the pus, hugging her. She seemed completely unworried, but the medical professionals watching her “go into battle unarmed” shivered. They urged Mei Yin to take some precautions, but she refused with a smile.

  On the thirteenth day of Xiaoxue’s infection, her symptoms began to stabilize, her temperature fell, and the blisters began to scab. She grew more lucid too. Mei Yin put down the pain she’d been carrying with her all these days, and silently intoned “thank the Lord”—meaning, of course, not the God of religion, but nature itself. She knew that the doctors had done all they could, but at the bottom of it was Xiaoxue’s young body that had done the work of fighting the illness. This defensive ability, in turn, was the product of nature, and four billion years of evolution. Nothing was more effective, exquisite, or elegant. No medical procedure came anywhere close to this, even within the majestic tower of modern medicine.

  The doctors and nurses departed, leaving the recuperating Xiaoxue in the sole care of Mei Yin. The girl slept soundly for a good long time, and opened her eyes at dawn, looking around her with unclouded eyes. The sun had risen, and a sunbeam slanted through the window, countless motes of dust dancing within it. The room was full of the fragrance of carbolic soap. Beyond the window was a square of blue sky, and a falling leaf drifted past it, sticking to the window for a second before reluctantly sinking to the ground.

  How good life was. She’d escaped the claws of death, and could enjoy her existence anew.

  Mei Yin, on the other side of the bed, was startled awake. “Xiaoxue, are you up?”

  “Mu . . . Mommy,” she called weakly. Mei Yin hadn’t so much as changed her clothes in ten days now, and appeared fragile, particularly the few strands of white hair Xiaoxue noticed in the sea of black. Moved, she said, “Mommy, you have white hairs, these few days must have worn you out.”

  Mei Yin smiled. “I’ve had those for some time now. Mommy is more than forty years old. Xiaoxue, you’ll be completely recovered soon. You’re scabbing now, and when the scabs come off, you can be discharged.”

  She thought about telling Xiaoxue about the pockmarks, about plastic surgery. But it seemed better to reveal these things slowly. Xiaoxue had something else on her mind. Softly, she said, “Mommy.”

  “What is it, Xiaoxue?”

  Xiaoxue said, in some torment, “Mommy, when I was sleeping, I heard some bad news. But I can’t remember what it was. Are mean people coming to catch you?”

  Mei Yin paused. So the words she’d spoken during her delirium hadn’t come out of nowhere, Xiaoxue actually had overheard their conversation, and held it in her memory for a moment. But how had she, in her delirium, only picked out words to do with her mother? Mei Yin found it hard to bring her emotions under control—when she said good-bye to Xiaoxue now, it might well be forever. Stifling a sob with difficulty, she steadied herself and smiled. “That was a nightmare. Why would
nasty people be coming to catch me?”

  When Xiaoxue thought about it, it did seem unlikely, so she too smiled and pressed her cheek contentedly to her Mommy’s palm.

  The walkie-talkie beeped. Mei Yin pressed the “Speak” button. “Is that Granny? Granny, don’t worry, things are much better here. The last patient, Mei Xiaoxue, is almost recovered.”

  Granny didn’t answer her, only asked, “Is Shuan there?”

  “Yes, I’ll get him.” Mei Yin had noticed a bone-chilling iciness in Granny’s voice. Smiling grimly, she shook her head, and called out from the doorway. Sun Jingshuan dashed in and took the walkie-talkie. They went outside to prevent Xiaoxue from hearing.

  “Granny, it’s me. Where are you?”

  “I heard some news and was worried, so I decided to come into the city. The checkpoint wouldn’t let me pass, they say the quarantine hasn’t been lifted yet, and gave me this thing to talk into. Shuan, our facility has been taken over by the People’s Army. Did you know about this?”

  “Yes, I did. And it’s not the People’s Army, it’s the civil militia and the Armed Police. It’s part of the quarantine zone, same as here.”

  “Before that they sent people to the facility to get some virus specimens?”

  “Yes, I knew about that too.”

  “They say Mei Yin was making viruses there, and this whole mess was her fault?”

  Jingshuan smiled humorlessly as he nodded to his wife, meaning, You’re about to become Public Enemy Number One, and even I will have to turn my back on you. He said, “Granny, I heard about that too. Honestly, I don’t know anything about the lab, Mei Yin was in charge of that. She said she was researching white pox, which is harmless.”

  “If it’s harmless, why would the People’s Army take over the building? People are saying some ugly things. That your wife is an American spy.”

  Although they’d agreed that Jingshuan would create some distance between himself and his wife, he couldn’t stop himself from rebuking his grandmother now. “Granny, are you mad? Don’t listen to this wild talk. You must know by now what kind of person your granddaughter-in-law is. She’s a good person, one hundred and twenty percent good, as noble as Mother Teresa. If she’s made a mistake, I’m sure it was well meant.”

  A fairly long pause followed, then, “Shuan, you’re right. Put your wife on the phone.”

  Mei Yin took the walkie-talkie. “Granny, it’s me.”

  “I was rude to you just now. Don’t be angry at me . . . but if you really did make a mistake, just admit it honestly to the government, and they’ll be lenient. Remember that.”

  “I will. Granny, don’t worry. Oh yes, there is one thing I need to ask for your help with. Jingshuan and I are about to adopt Xiaoxue from the orphanage as our daughter. She’s a very good girl, and I’m sure you’ll like her. If I had to go away for a short while, could you take care of her, please?”

  Granny didn’t say anything for quite a while, and was sobbing when she finally spoke. She knew what Mei Yin was hinting at. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her, as long as my old bones still hold up.”

  She hung up. Jingshuan’s eyes were red too. Mei Yin shushed him, gesturing back toward Xiaoxue’s room, whispering, “Stay calm. No matter what people say, you can’t defend me. Have you forgotten your promise?”

  Sun Jingshuan nodded, not saying a word.

  The orphanage had no computers, and there was no way to get online. With the quarantine, they had no way of getting news from the outside world. The test results had surely been out for some time now, but no one notified them, probably deliberately keeping the information from them. Deputy Mayor Jin, who’d once been so close to them, hadn’t gotten in touch at all. It was the silence before a storm, and Mei Yin knew what was coming. But she didn’t dwell on it—there was no use thinking about it right now. Instead, she chose to put all her energy into Xiaoxue. The girl was more or less recovered, the scabs now coming off bit by bit. She’d been ill more than a month now, and hadn’t bathed once, leaving her sweaty and stinky, with matted hair. The clothes she’d changed into the day before were already sour smelling. She still couldn’t shower, so Mei Yin changed her again, then carefully brushed her hair, braiding it into little plaits. Now Xiaoxue was beautiful again, she said. These little scars were no big deal, plastic surgery was so advanced these days, they could make her look as good as new. Her interest aroused, Xiaoxue said, “Mommy, could you bring me the mirror? I want to look at my braids.”

  Mei Yin looked at the desk. “Where could the mirror have gone? I haven’t seen it for days.”

  “It should be on the table.”

  Mei Yin kept searching. “It’s not. Someone must have taken it away.”

  Xiaoxue was in good spirits, snuggling into her Mommy’s bosom, chattering away like a little mynah bird. She asked her Mommy, “When can we do the adoption paperwork?”

  “Very soon, I’ll take care of it after you’re well.”

  “The scabs are so itchy, I can’t stand it, let me scratch,” Xiaoxue said.

  “Try not to. Here, Mommy will scratch a little bit for you.”

  “After I leave the orphanage, will I live in Wuhan, or in Xinye with Daddy Sun, or will I stay here in Nanyang to go to school?” Xiaoxue asked.

  Mei Yin said, “We’ve decided that to start with you’ll transfer to a school in Xinye, and live in your daddy’s house. When we’re at work, Granny will take care of you.”

  Then Xiaoxue thought of another question. “Mommy, how come you’re not afraid of the sickness? The doctors and nurses were all wearing suits, and you didn’t even have a mask. You even dared to hug me when we slept.”

  Mei Yin said, “I’m immune. And Xiaoxue, after this illness, you’ll be immune too. You won’t have to worry about smallpox again in this lifetime.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, really.”

  She explained in detail how the immune system worked in humans, and how to build up immunity. Vaccinations usually only lasted four or five years, but a bout with smallpox conferred lifelong immunity. Xiaoxue said, “Mommy, you know more than anyone in the world. When I grow up, I want to go to medical school, and learn as much as you.”

  Mei Yin said joyfully, “That’s good, with your Daddy and I teaching you, you’ll surely do better than us.”

  In this happy atmosphere, Mei Yin prepared to break the news about Xiaoxue’s pockmarked face. She knew what this meant to a girl who was used to being beautiful. But, that’s just how the world is. Mankind will never be free of illness. God hates perfection. Parasites can prevent hay fever, and a pockmarked face means precious immunity against smallpox. Xiaoxue was still young, and would come to understand these things when she was older. Mei Yin said, “Xiaoxue, Mommy’s going to tell you something. I know our Xiaoxue is a smart and brave girl. Am I right?”

  Xiaoxue said anxiously, “Mommy, what’s wrong, is it bad news?”

  She was so sensitive. Mei Yin realized she couldn’t be too direct, and tried to think how best to be tactful. She never got the chance to finish this conversation, though, because just then there was a tramping of feet, and a policeman in a mask and protective suit jogged in and bowed. “Director Mei, Deputy Mayor Jin has sent me to summon you and General Manager Sun to an important meeting at the command center. Please come at once.”

  Mei Yin knew that the sky, overcast for so many days, would now break upon them, and the sword of punishment was about to fall on her head. “All right. General Manager Sun is in the room opposite; we’ll leave at once.”

  Kissing Xiaoxue’s scarred face, she said, “Mommy has to go to a meeting. I think Uncle Deputy Mayor wants me to do something for him, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Keep getting better, and listen to what Mother Liu and Mother Chen tell you. Will you do that?”

  Xiaoxue nodded with difficulty. Now Mommy was saying good-bye to her, then to the mothers and other children. Now she was walking out the orphanage gate with her husband. A polic
e car was waiting for them. Two officers held the door open, politely but coldly asking them to get in.

  The couple looked back longingly at the orphanage, the autumnal old city, the sky with its white clouds. A V-shaped line of swans flew overhead, heading south, reminding them that it was late fall. Exchanging a mournful glance, they got in the car.

  The police brought them to a meeting room in Xiaoxue’s school. Around one side of an oval table sat Director Zhang of the National CDC, Deputy Mayor Jin, and Mr. Matsumoto. A large number of journalists sat in chairs against the wall. The other side of the table was empty, with spaces left for Mei Yin and Jingshuan. It looked like an interrogation. The couple took the seats of the accused.

  Xue Yu sat behind Deputy Mayor Jin. Mei Yin smiled at him and nodded a greeting. Although he had no reason to feel guilty, he still found it difficult to look his mentor in the eye. He’d already guessed at her coming downfall.

  The three “interrogators” nodded at the couple. Director Zhang and Deputy Mayor Jin gazed at them, cold-faced. When they’d discussed the investment back in the day, she’d sworn to Jin that the facility wouldn’t have anything to do with viruses, and now he could see that was a pack of lies. She’d turned Nanyang and Xinye County into disaster zones, broken Chinese law, and no one could save her now. But the thought of her spending the rest of her life in jail was still hard for Jin to bear. They’d known each other more than ten years, and Heavenly Corp. had been such a success. Then there was the orphanage . . .

  Director Zhang smiled. “Director Mei, General Manager Sun, we have some good news for you. Forty days after the first case of infection, every patient has now recovered, and we’re lifting the quarantine zone. All this while, you’ve been taking care of the children at the orphanage, where the outbreak was most severe. It’s been hard on you. We’re especially grateful to Ms. Mei, as an American, for pitching in when our country was in trouble. That is rare indeed. On behalf of the Chinese government, I thank you sincerely, and you, too, Mr. Sun.”