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

by Lei Mi

  That Wednesday afternoon there was not an empty seat in the PSB auditorium and even the aisles were crowded. The PSB and Municipal Bureau leadership filled the front row, and behind them sat the members from the Criminal Psychology Research Institute. Originally Lu Xu had been planning to sit with his colleagues from the Municipal Bureau, but the PSB leadership had arranged for him to sit in the front row with them instead.

  At 1:30 sharp Yang Jincheng, wearing an immaculate black suit, began his lecture. After some brief introductory remarks he dove straight into the topic at hand, first outlining the psychological crisis intervention system used by police in Western countries in contrast to the present reality in China under which the mental health of police officers was neglected more often than not. He brought up the argument that helping police officers maintain a healthy state of mind was every bit as important as keeping their equipment up to date. It was apparent that Yang Jincheng had prepared his lecture with a great degree of care; its content was intelligent and well-versed, and he explained the psychology involved in a manner that was both thorough as well as accessible to those in the room who did not have much of a background in the subject.

  Due to time limitations, Yang Jincheng quickly narrowed the main focus of the lecture down to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Objectively speaking, it was quite a fitting topic. For most of the cops present, every day brought the possibility of encountering a sudden violent situation of some sort and so they had a much higher than average chance of developing PTSD. Perhaps it was precisely for this reason that as Yang Jincheng spoke, his audience grew so attentive that, apart from his voice, not a single sound could be heard throughout the auditorium.

  Fang Mu, however, felt uncomfortable. Several times he craned his neck around to take a furtive glance at the expression on Lu Xu's face. The motorcycle cop was now holding a bouquet of flowers, which had no doubt been given him by the PSB so that he could get on stage and present them to Yang Jincheng at the conclusion of the lecture. In contrast to the nodding, grinning faces of those around him, Lu Xu's expression was blank. He just sat there behind the flowers, unmoving, staring at the stage at the excessively animated Yang Jincheng.

  Yang Jincheng finally began to use case studies to illustrate his points. This was what Fang Mu had been most worried about; he had been hoping the lecture would not touch on certain specifics.

  "We have among us a certain police officer—for our purposes here, I'll keep his name confidential. Let's just refer to him as X for now. While on duty, X was involved in a sudden and very severe traffic accident..."

  Fang Mu could not listen any further, nor could he bear the sight of Lu Xu's expression any longer. He stood, made his way along the crowded aisle to the doors, and left the auditorium.

  The afternoon sunshine felt good; it was warm on his skin. If it had not been for the autumn leaves littering the courtyard, it would have felt like a spring day. Fang Mu leaned against a bicycle rack for a long time, chain-smoking cigarette after cigarette.

  As a researcher trying to expound on a point of view, using concrete examples to help illustrate it was understandable; but the use of someone whom just about everyone in the auditorium was very familiar with by now had put Fang Mu in low spirits. Yang Jincheng had intentionally omitted Lu Xu's name, but because the accident had happened so recently, there was no way anyone in the audience could have missed the fact that the patient in the example given was none other than Lu Xu, not to mention the fact that he had called the patient by the letter "X". Thinking of how Yang Jincheng would be talking about Lu Xu's erectile dysfunction to an auditorium full of people made Fang Mu feel extremely embarrassed for the man.

  Remembering how Yang Jincheng had used him as a simple prop during Lu Xu's psychodrama therapy, Fang Mu’s respect for the scientist had diminished a bit. However, when he thought about how effective the treatment had been overall, he could not help but feel reassured. Perhaps this was simply Dr. Yang's style; perhaps he was one to prioritize scientific research over all else. Perhaps he felt Lu Xu should be brave enough to face such a thing…

  It was just that, as a psychologist, how could he be so negligent as to risk the possibility of bringing about an unhealthy state of mind in his patient?

  Fang Mu had a vague feeling that the precise motive for Yang Jincheng's reason for having set the stage, so to speak, was that at that very moment he was in the limelight, and was fully aware of that fact.

  Well, so be it, Fang Mu thought. If this could help more policemen be cured of their psychological disorders, or even be relieved of some psychological stress, then perhaps Lu Xu's embarrassment and Fang Mu's own temporary discomfort were acceptable side effects.

  The lecture drew to a close just as Fang Mu returned to the auditorium. Everyone in the place stood and directed a warm, extended applause to Yang Jincheng. He stepped down from the dais in the center of the stage, gave a slight bow, and waved at his audience. Just then Lu Xu, his features stretched taut in a stiff smile, climbed onto the stage via the steps on the left and walked over to stop in front of Yang Jincheng. He then gave a formal salute and presented the scientist with the bouquet.

  Yang Jincheng placed a hand on Lu Xu's shoulder and turned to face the flashing cameras…

  Afterward, Fang Mu returned to the office. It was an hour later before Bian Ping, who had remained by Yang Jincheng's side ever since the lecture, finally arrived.

  Brows slightly knitted and exhaustion draining his face, Bian Ping greeted Fang Mu minimally and then sat behind his desk to smoke in silence.

  When he had finished his cigarette, he looked up and met Fang Mu's gaze. As they locked eyes for a moment, the two men smirked; each knew what the other was thinking.

  "Dr. Yang's, uh..." Bian Ping weighed his words. "It wasn't exactly the most tactful performance in the world, was it?"

  "Not just that," Fang Mu barked, at last finding an outlet for his pent-up frustration. "He didn't give a single thought to Lu Xu's feelings!"

  "Forget it," Bian Ping said with a wave of his hand. His tone was conciliatory. "He was probably just thinking about his career too much. In any case, Lu Xu's treatment was successful."

  Fang Mu was in no mood to argue, so he changed the subject. "Have all the top brass left?"

  "Yep." Bian Ping glanced at his watch. "It's nearly time to punch out. Why don't you go ahead and get out of here?"

  On his way out of the compound to go home to his apartment, Fang Mu spotted a solitary figure leaning against the railing leading to the main entrance to the courtyard. It was Lu Xu.

  He hesitated, then picked up his step and strode over. Lu Xu smiled and straightened when he saw him.

  "Still here?"

  "Uh-huh. I stayed behind to say goodbye to Dr. Yang." Lu Xu nodded in the direction of the gate. "My colleagues already left. We were carpooling."

  "Well, how about I give you a lift then?"

  "No, no; it's fine," Lu Xu said, waving his hands. "I'll just catch a cab back."

  "It's no big deal. I was on my way out anyway," Fang Mu lied.

  "Well…okay then." Lu Xu hesitated a moment before nodding his head. "Thank you."

  Lu Xu was quiet in the car. He unbuttoned the top button of his long-sleeved shirt, loosened his tie, and leaned back against the seat, looking utterly dejected.

  Fang Mu noticed a tiny wad of paper between Lu Xu's fingertips, gone dark from his fiddling.

  "What's that?"

  "Oh…" Lu Xu chuckled. "A guy from my precinct slipped it to me. Apparently it's a recipe for an aphrodisiac."

  He rolled down the window and flicked the wad of paper outside. "They must think I'm useless."

  Feeling awkward, Fang Mu searched for the best words to comfort the motorcycle cop. It was a long, drawn-out moment before he finally said, "No, that's not how it is, I'm sure."

  Lu Xu continued to stare at the road in front of them and did not answer. As they turned onto a narrow street, he suddenly asked, "Fang Mu, have you eate
n?"

  "No, why?" Fang Mu slowed the car.

  "I'll buy you a drink. And something to eat."

  "What, now?" Fang Mu eyed the uniform Lu Xu was wearing. "Some other time perhaps. If you drink with that on, all you'll do is make trouble for yourself."

  "It's all good." Lu Xu removed his cap, shrugged off his jacket, slipped his tie from around his collar, and tossed the garments in the backseat. "Good to go now, see?"

  "Damn, you're gonna freeze like that." Fang Mu glanced around the car. "I don't have anything warm to lend you."

  "Don't worry about it," Lu Xu said as he pointed excitedly at a little street-side eatery. "Let's go there."

  Even though he had taken off his jacket with its numerous police emblems and patches, the light blue shirt and navy trousers Lu Xu still wore made it look like he was still on duty. The shiny police badge covering his belt buckle only worsened that impression. As Lu Xu strode into the little eatery, Fang Mu trailed a step or two behind, feeling more than a little nervous.

  While they were ordering, Lu Xu first asked for ten bottles of beer before pointing out a few side dishes. It seemed his main reason for stopping by the eatery was to drink.

  After finishing a bottle, Fang Mu politely declined the next by saying he needed to remain sober in order to drive.

  Lu Xu widened his eyes. "Aw, come on, you can drink more than that!"

  "I still have to drive…" Fang Mu repeated, holding a hand up in objection.

  "Don't worry about it." Lu Xu brushed his hand aside and shoved an open beer bottle at him. "No one leaves until these are all gone!"

  It turned out Lu Xu had more bark than bite; his tolerance to alcohol was not actually very high. With only two beers in his belly, his tongue was already slurring words. Feeling sympathetic to the man's situation, Fang Mu decided it would be no big deal to simply leave his car there and catch a cab home. And so he began drinking with Lu Xu in earnest.

  After they jabbered about this and that for a while, the topic turned inevitably to that day's lecture.

  "I tell ya, that lecture sure was a good one!" Lu Xu, face flushed, was stuffing peanut after peanut into his mouth. "Dr. Yang sure knows his stuff. He made that room full of uneducated hicks look pretty foolish!"

  As he laughed he sprayed a few bits of peanut onto the table between them. Fang Mu didn't know what else to say, so he just nodded in agreement. "Sure did."

  Lu Xu hung his head and chewed his peanuts as if mulling something over. Fang Mu saw a clear longing in the motorcycle cop's eyes to have a heart to heart talk, but no sooner did it seem he was about to say something meaningful than he raised his bottle.

  "Cheers!"

  As Fang Mu clinked bottles with him and took a gulp, he could not help but say what was on his mind. "Lu Xu, don't take it too hard. I bet all Dr. Yang was trying to do was to…explain things so people could better understand."

  Eyelids drooping, Lu Xu did not respond right away. A moment later he sighed and said, "I know… It's nothing, really… If it can help solve some real issues for folks, then I don't care about a little humiliation." He raised his head, and as he smiled his face twitched a little. "It doesn't bother me."

  This time Fang Mu was the one to lift his bottle in cheers. "That's right. What's a little humiliation compared to everything you've managed to overcome?"

  Lu Xu guzzled down a huge gulp of beer. Some of the beer slopped from the corners of his mouth and dripped onto his shirt. He wiped at it casually and mumbled, "You're right; it's fine. Of course it's fine…"

  Fang Mu could tell he was not convinced. He felt sorry for the man, but still could not find the right words to comfort him. So he just passed a cigarette to him wordlessly. Lu Xu lit it, took a drag, and hung his head, still mumbling quietly to himself.

  When he lifted his head to speak again, his face had wilted into an apologetic smile. "In truth I don't really have anything to complain about. Dr. Yang did, after all, cure me. If he's able to use my experiences to help other people, I should feel grateful."

  Rush hour was over, but sidewalk traffic showed no signs of dwindling. Lu Xu's eyes were reflected in the window glass as they followed the endless stream of pedestrians outside.

  "It's just that he shouldn't have used my case as an example on this particular occasion.” Lu Xu was obviously still thinking about it. "Even an idiot would have figured out that Mr. X was a reference to me." He stamped out his cigarette butt and lit another. "And even if he had to use me as an example, he shouldn't have mentioned that stuff."

  Fang Mu watched him.

  "I felt..." Lu Xu shook his head and laughed. "I felt like I was walking across that stage with my ass hanging out of my pants, and Dr. Yang was pointing at me and saying, 'This guy's manhood is busted.' It was like he was using me to make himself look all wise and knowing."

  "Let's not talk about it anymore." Fang Mu could not bear to listen anymore. He opened another beer for Lu Xu. "Here, drink up."

  "Fang Mu," Lu Xu said, staring through blood-shot eyes. "Do you think I'm an ungrateful person?"

  "No!" Fang Mu spoke without hesitating. "The way Dr. Yang handled this whole thing was absolutely over the top. But, Lu Xu, don't feel like you have to carry even more of a burden because of this—it's not worth it, not for anyone's sake!"

  Maybe it was the smoke. Whatever it was, Lu Xu's eyes suddenly went a deeper shade of red, and in that moment he grasped Fang Mu's wrists and squeezed. "You're like a brother to me."

  It was close to midnight when Fang Mu finally got Lu Xu home. The motorcycle cop was drunk as mud, and by the time Fang Mu maneuvered him all the way up the stairs to the sixth floor, they were both completely out of breath. He pressed the doorbell to Lu Xu's apartment for him, and the door opened to reveal an extremely worried girlfriend. She helped Fang Mu carry the now nearly unconscious Lu Xu over to the couch, and after they got him settled there she asked Fang Mu if he would like a cup of tea. Fang Mu politely declined and left.

  He had descended only a couple of steps down the stairs when he heard a voice behind him calling his name out. When he turned to look, he saw Lu Xu, his uniform disheveled, standing erect in the doorway to the stairwell, staring at him.

  "I…am def'nitely…gonna get that…gun...back!"

  That evening Yang Jincheng got home quite a bit earlier than usual. He was in a good mood.

  Yang Zhan was home. Yang Jincheng's early appearance seemed to make his son suddenly anxious; he had just come in the door and was still in the foyer taking his shoes off when he saw Yang Zhan was carrying a pile of things in both arms on his way to his bedroom.

  As he pushed the door to his bedroom open, something toppled from his pile and clattered to the floor. In too much of a hurry to pick it up, the boy dashed into his room, locking the door behind him, and hid there as quietly as he could.

  The object rolled to a stop in the center of the living room. As Yang Jincheng bent to look, he realized it was a can of Coca Cola. Swearing under his breath, he picked it up and was about to place it on the tea table when he noticed there were two entire cases of cola stacked against the side of the sofa. One of the cases had been opened and still contained 16 or so cans. A few empty cans had been placed near the leg of the table.

  He shook his head in exasperation and yelled in the direction of the boy's room. "You shouldn't drink so much of that crap. It'll make your bones unable to absorb calcium!"

  No reply came from the bedroom.

  Yang Jincheng packed the Coke cans into the closet and stalked over to his study.

  Two of the study's walls were lined with bookshelves. On one of them Yang Jincheng had arranged his various certificates, diplomas, and trophies. He reached into his briefcase for the letter of appointment issued him by the PSB, opened it, and stood it carefully in a spot on the shelf that he had prepared days ago for just this occasion. Taking a couple of steps backward, he inspected it for a moment, and then moved forward to straighten it some more. Satisfied at last, he
nodded.

  This was where Yang Jincheng kept his personal achievements. It would be apparent to anyone from the numerous certificates, letters of appointment, and trophies that his scientific research had enjoyed a great deal of success over the years. Some sections of the display shelves already seemed overcrowded, but still he had left a spot in the center empty, as if in anticipation of receiving an honor even greater than any he had been awarded before.

  Yang Jincheng stared at the empty spot for a long time, a thin smile slowly climbing across his face.

  The day it would be filled was coming, and soon.

  Midnight.

  Yang Zhan cautiously turned the doorknob, stuck his head out, and peered into the pitch black living room. After a moment's pause, he tiptoed over to the closet carrying a plastic bag.

  A minute later he was hauling one of the heavy cases of Coke over to the bathroom. After he locked the bathroom door behind him, he tore the case open, pulled out a can, and sat on the toilet, sipping slowly.

  He had been drinking all afternoon and part of the evening, and his belly was bloated. The can in his hands was still half full, but he could not drink any more. He threw a distressed glance at the 23 remaining cans of Coke in the box and suddenly jumped to his feet, as if remembering something. He poured the rest of the drink into the washbasin.

  The next part was easy enough. The boy gingerly popped open another can of Coke, releasing the pressurized carbon dioxide as quietly as he could, and poured the dark liquid into the sink. He then carefully placed the cans into the plastic bag.

  The sweet, slightly medicine-like odor soon filled the tiny bathroom, exciting the boy's senses. Calmly, one by one, he repeated his actions, all the while counting quietly: "Thirty-one... thirty-two..."