Profiler

CHAPTER 8

"Oh, it's you. Come in."

"I'm not disturbing you?"

"Not at all. Some water?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Did you finish those books?"

"Yeah, I actually came by today to return them."

"How were they? Could you understand them?"

"Only some parts. A lot of it I didn't understand at all."

"No problem. That's perfectly normal. Those books really were a little deep for you. How have you been recently?"

"Pretty good."

"Still your complexion's not looking so great. Is it the same thing as before? The thing you're afraid of?"

"Um…yeah, it is."

"Then can you tell me what it is exactly that you're afraid of?"

No response.

"Look at me. I hope that you trust me. I might be able to help."

The student sighed.

"All right. I'm…afraid of roll call."

"Roll call?"

"It's really strange, isn't it?"

"No, I actually don't find it strange in the least. I once knew someone who was afraid to cross bridges by himself."

"Really? Afraid to cross bridges?"

"That's right. Eventually he wouldn't even walk down fairly narrow streets alone. His wife had to go with him."

"But why? Was it another phobia?"

"Correct. In fact, it's another manifestation of agoraphobia. This man had been pampered since he was young. Everything was done for him, and after marrying he relied entirely on his wife to take care of things. Therefore, he developed a subconscious need to be near her, like a child. But on the surface he refused to admit this puerile need, so his agoraphobia functioned as a way of forcing his wife to stay by his side."

"Did he get better?"

"Of course. Thanks to a combination of medicinal treatment and behavioral therapy, he was soon completely cured."

"Oh. So he needed to use medication to recover?"

"Of course. So how about it? Will you tell me why you're afraid of roll call?"

"To be honest, I don't really know myself."

"Indeed? Well in that case, when did you first became afraid of it?"

"Hmm. I-don't remember that either. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Here, come lie down on this couch. How is it? Comfortable?"

"Yeah, really comfortable."

"Would you like to listen to some music?"

"Okay."

"Let's listen to this one first."

The sound of Mozart's Cradle Song filled the room. Next was Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Then Tsai Chin's Lost Time.

"Which was the most relaxing?"

"The last one. I couldn't understand the first two."

"Okay. How many classes did you attend this afternoon?"

"What? Oh, um, two classes."

"Then what did you do?"

"Played some basketball."

" That's a pretty packed day. Do you feel tired?"

"A little."

"That's good. I want you to imagine that you're just relaxing. Now please follow what I say. First, get as comfortable as possible. Then relax your body and begin taking deep breaths."

"…Like this?"

"Yes, very good. Breathe out slowly, just like that. Excellent. Now one more time. Take a deep breath, and then exhale. Good. What sort of environment do you like?"

"Um, how about the beach?"

"All right, then imagine that you're lying on the beach right now. The sea breeze is cool and refreshing. Very pleasant. The waves crash rhythmically against the shore. Whoosh, whoosh, like that, one after another. Can you sense your inner mind? Very good. Use it to feel every part of your body. When you feel your head, your head will relax. When you feel your chest and back, your body will relax. As you relax your torso, your breathing will become smoother and smoother. When you feel your arms, your arms will relax. When you feel your legs, your legs will relax. Your body is becoming more and more relaxed, more and more relaxed… Good. How do you feel now?"

"Very…comfortable. My mind feels so… so at ease. My body-it's like there's a…white light."

His voice was low, as if every word required a huge effort.

"Very good. Quietly enjoy it."

Five minutes passed.

"Okay. I will now count slowly from one to ten. When I reach ten, your subconscious will return you to a time in the past, and you will witness an event that has had an enormous impact on you. When I reach ten, no matter what you see or feel, you will speak it aloud. Afterwards, if it is a happy memory you will remember it, and if it's not a happy memory, you will let it go. All right?"

The student slowly nodded.

"Okay, then let's begin. 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10."

Suddenly, the student's eyeballs began moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. The man smiled. Very good. This meant his subconscious was already giving him information.

"We're in the courtyard… I can smell roasted grasshoppers… Dad took me home on his bike… I have to finish my homework before I can go play… Wooden gun… Much better than Big Meng's."

He must not be older than ten in this memory, the man thought.

"I'm in a sandpit, playing machine gun war with my friends." His voice was now more childish, livelier. "…Little Fatty is such a cheater; he never lies down when he dies… I can see PLA soldiers drilling over there." His voice was full of admiration and longing. "They're so awesome… Left, right, left; left, right, left… Roll call.… Wang Libo, here. Meng Fanzhe, here… Huh, what's wrong with him? Why won't he answer when they say his name? Oh, no, now the officer is angry." His voice became fearful. "They're calling his name again… Why can't he say it? They're calling him again… Come on, you can do it… Is he stuttering? No, don't hurt him. His body began to shake. "…So much blood… They punished him; he's running alone around the field…"

Suddenly his breathing became fast and his body began to convulse.

"What do you see?"

"I've fallen." He began to cry. "… My forehead… The blood won't stop… Gym teacher… Roll call… He hits me… Please no…"

"That's enough; this memory is over. Now then, the things you saw just now are imprinted deep in your consciousness, and at all times are never far from your mind, correct?"

"Yes… yes, that's right."

"Can you still feel the white light?"

"…I can."

"Very good. The white light will now gradually disappear, and you will gradually regain consciousness. I am going to count backwards from ten. When I reach one, you will wake up. Do you understand?"

"…I do."

"Good. Now then. Ten, the white light is becoming fainter and fainter, your body and mind are very relaxed. Nine, you're becoming more and more awake. Eight, your body is gradually regaining normal sensations. Seven, feeling is returning to your fingers. Six, your heart is tranquil and serene, you feel very happy. Five, more and more awake now. Four, your neck gradually begins to move. Three, you feel an enormous energy throughout your body. Two, wake up, the way out is in front of you. One, you're now fully awake; open your eyes!"

The sound of a deep breathing commenced.

"My god, was I just…hypnotized?"

"More or less."

"I remembered all of it. When I was nine, I saw them beat a stuttering soldier."

"Yes, that's what it sounded like."

"But then why couldn't I think of it before?"

"This is called Psychogenic Memory Loss. This kind of memory loss comes from a sort of choice. In other words, you have chosen to forget these painful experiences. To be perfectly honest, it's an escape."

"Is it good for me to remember this stuff?"

"Of course. To solve any problem you must locate its source, especially psychological problems. Once we find the cause, it's easy to fix."

"Will you help me?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, but will you?"

"Haven't I been helping you all along?"

"Yes, you're right. Thank you."

"No need to be so polite. However, I do have one request. Will you keep our sessions a secret?"

"Yes."

Sleep. Read. Class. Basketball occasionally.

No worrying about who might be killed. No coming face to face with a bloodsucking madman. Even the old nightmares were few and far between.

This was happiness.

Fang Mu passed that week like a normal student, his days filled with study and leisure. Life was peaceful. When the weekend came, he used the time to visit home, where he filled up on his mother's cooking and gained four pounds.

The weather grew hotter. And though he did not know why, his spirits improved.

Riding the bus back to school, he felt the wind brush softly against his face. His skin tingled delightfully. The sun was blazing down outside, and the smell of green grass filled the air. He felt the bottles and jars stuffed inside his bag, filled with meat sauce and pickled vegetables that his mom had prepared for him. Leaning lazily against the seat back, he closed his eyes and dozed off.

How long had it been since he'd last felt this way?

When Fang Mu walked into the dorm room, Du Yu was playing Counter-Strike.

"You're back?" he asked when he heard the door open, though he didn't take his eyes off the screen.

"Why aren't you out with Zhang Yao? The weather's perfect today."

Du Yu laughed. "She's at her private tutoring job. Anyway, it's nice having some time to myself."

Fang Mu took out a jar of meat sauce and placed it on Du Yu's desk. "Here, this is for you. My mom made it. You should try some."

"Huh?" Taken off guard, Du Yu turned to look at it. "Oh, thanks."

"Watch out!" Fang Mu yelled, pointing at the screen.

"Wha-?" Du Yu spun around and grabbed for the mouse and keyboard. But he was too late. With a bang, his character's head exploded.

"Shit. That's it, I'm done." Du Yu exited the game. Then he withdrew a pair of chopsticks from his desk drawer and opened the jar of meat sauce. Sticking his chopsticks in, he stirred the sauce around, and then grabbed a few chunks of meat and ate them.

"Oh, man!" he cried, chewing. "This stuff is good! Your mom is a serious cook."

"Then eat up. I've got a bunch more over here."

"All right, tonight I'll eat noodles for dinner. Mixed with some of this sauce, it'll be delicious." Du Yu grabbed another big piece and ate it.

"Guess you like salty things, too." Fang Mu smiled.

"You know, brother," said Du Yu, chewing as he spoke, "recently you've seemed pretty happy."

"Yeah?" said Fang Mu, only half paying attention as he put away his things.

"I think it's good for you, being around other people more. No reason to be so standoffish all the time."

Fang Mu laughed. "Everyone thinks I'm pretty weird, don't they?"

"Um…" Du Yu hesitated for a moment. "I wouldn't put it that way. Really they just think you're too introverted."

Fang Mu laughed. "Yeah, I understand."

"Over the past little while it always seemed like something was troubling you. Liu Jianjun told me he once saw you walking alone in the hallway in the middle of the night. You know if there's ever anything on your mind you can talk to me. We're good friends, aren't we?"

Fang Mu studied Du Yu thoughtfully. The guy's expression was totally sincere.

Man, thought Fang Mu, first time I ever give him something and he's touched this deeply?

He smiled. "That's right. We're good friends."

After eating lunch, Fang Mu and Du Yu sat at their desks, each using their computer. Du Yu was once more massacring players in Counter-Strike like he didn't know the meaning of exhaustion. As for Fang Mu, he had originally intended to organize his records from the Ma Kai case, but now he found that he had no desire to let that dark and bloody affair occupy his mind that afternoon. So having nothing much else to do, he went online and browsed aimlessly.

The door opened. Holding a basketball, Liu Jianjun burst into the room along with several other students, all of them talking and laughing it up. When they saw Fang Mu their voices suddenly fell.

"Still at it?" asked Liu Jianjun, tossing the ball on the floor. "How many times have you been headshot so far?" He pulled off Du Yu's mic and headphones. "Come on, let's go play."

"Stop, let me just finish this game," said Du Yu distractedly, his eyes on the screen

The basketball rolled over to Fang Mu and rubbed against his pants, leaving a mark.

Fang Mu kicked it away.

Seeing Fang Mu's dirty pant leg, Liu Jianjun looked a little embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," he said.

"No problem," said Fang Mu, waving his hand. Then he turned back to his computer and continued surfing the net.

"Aw, man, this guy is frickin' deadly," said Du Yu, leaning back in his chair in

annoyance. "I'm done. This just isn't my day. Let's go play some ball."

Bending over, he grabbed his basketball shoes from under the bed and pulled them on. Then he turned to Fang Mu. "Hey, let's both go."

"What? Oh, no thanks."

"What? Since you're such a superstar, are we gonna have to give you an appearance fee to play with us?" said Du Yu, laughing.

"Aw, don't listen to him," said Liu Jianjun, politely joining in. "You should just come."

Fang Mu hesitated for a moment, and then grabbed a pair of athletic shorts from his dresser, put them on, and followed the others out.

When it came time choose teams at the court, Du Yu made sure Fang Mu was on his side.

"You all had better watch out," he said, pointing at Fang Mu with a half-serious look on his face. "This guy's a beast."

The game began. It was four on four, half-court, and before long eight people were competing fiercely; cutting to the hoop, leaping for rebounds, and scrambling for the ball. Actually, that wasn’t quite correct; in fact, during the first several minutes of play, only seven people were doing those things, while Fang Mu remained practically rooted in place, unsure what to do.

He couldn't even remember the last time he'd played in a game like the one he now found himself in. For who knows how long, all he'd done was practice free throws by himself, and he now found it extremely difficult to adapt.

Suddenly, Du Yu burst through the crowd towards the hoop, dribbling fast. Leaping into the air, he saw Liu Jianjun's enormous frame come flying at him, arms up and ready to block the ball into the stratosphere. At the last second, he spotted Fang Mu out of the corner of his eye, still standing by the foul line, and with a flick of the wrist he passed the ball.

Stunned, Fang Mu instinctively caught the ball. At that moment, one of his teammates cut under the hoop. No one was nearby. Without thinking, Fang Mu immediately passed him the ball, and the teammate unhurriedly laid it in.

"Beautiful!" cried several players in admiration.

The player who just scored ran excitedly over to Fang Mu with his hand raised. At a loss, Fang Mu lifted his own hand.

Smack! The two of them high-fived.

This sound sent sparks shooting through Fang Mu's brain, and all of a sudden he was filled with a strange yet familiar feeling.

Sweat-soaked backs and blazing-hot afternoons. Friendly cheers and shouted taunts.

The bygone days of his youth, when he had lived without worry or sadness.

Again someone passed the ball to him. This time he caught it smoothly, dribbled between his legs, and then faked left and crossed hard to the right…

Yes, that's how I used to do it.

Is that Eldest Brother jumping to block me?

Stopping on a dime, he leapt into the air and extended his arm. That old familiar feeling.

Swish. The ball dropped through the net.

"Nice one!" cheered Liu Jianjun.

"What did I say," said Du Yu proudly. "He's untouchable."

"I'll guard him," said Liu Jianjun. He ran over and stuck close to Fang Mu.

As the pace quickened, the game grew more and more intense. Bodies slammed into one another. The ball flew through the air. Pass, catch, shoot, rebound. High-five.

"Jeez, he doesn't miss."

"Man, looking at him you'd never know."

"New teams, new teams. We want Fang Mu!"

Sweat dripped from Fang Mu's forehead. He closed his eyes.

Yes, that's right. Back then, this is how happy I was.

They played until it got so dark they could barely see the ball. At last they gave up, albeit reluctantly. On the way back to the dorm they stopped at a store on campus, where Fang Mu bought a watermelon that had been sitting in a tub of icy water.

The watermelon was still coated with bits of ice when they got back to the dorm room. After slicing it open, everyone grabbed a piece and began to eat. Every now and then someone would cough from choking on one of the seeds, provoking a round of good-natured derision from the others.

"I'm saying, Fang Mu," said Liu Jianjun, wiping watermelon juice from his mouth, "you should join the law school basketball team. NextGradSchool Cup, you'll play shooting guard."

"Me?" said Fang Mu, throwing away his rind. Suddenly he smiled: "I'll need an appearance fee."

Everyone roared with laughter. Liu Jianjun grabbed a watermelon rind and pretended to chuck it at Fang Mu, who laughed and fell back as if it were a direct hit.

Everyone was still carrying on when Meng Fanzhe pushed open the door. As soon as he stepped inside he nearly slipped to the floor on a watermelon rind.

"Jeez, what are you guys up to in here?" he asked.

"Oh, hey," said Du Yu. "Want a piece of watermelon?"

"No thanks," said Du Yu, waving his hand. "I'm just looking for Tom."

"Tom? Who's Tom?" asked Fang Mu, confused.

Liu Jianjun laughed. "Guess you haven't heard. A few days ago this guy got a cat and decided to name it Tom. Which is why," he paused to wink at Fang Mu, "we're all calling Meng Fanzhe 'Jerry'."

As the room once more exploded with laughter, Meng Fanzhe leapt on Liu Jianjun.

"All right, all right," said Du Yu, his voice suddenly serious. "I know where your cat is."

"Where?" said Meng Fanzhe, releasing his hands from Liu Jianjun's throat.

"Here," said Du Yu, lifting his half-finished bowl of meat sauce and noodles. "I saved the tail. Want a taste?"

Meng Fanzhe's face fell. "No way," he said.

"It's so delicious," said Du Yu, licking his lips like he could barely keep from eating it.

"It's okay," Fang Mu quickly butted in, "they're just messing with you." From the look in Meng Fanzhe's eyes, Fang Mu could see he was about to cry.

"You're such a jerk," Meng Fanzhe bit out to Du Yu. He had regained his composure, but his tone was still angry.

"And you're so naive. How could you have believed me?" Du Yu laughed loudly.

Just then a voice shouted angrily from down the hall. "Meng Fanzhe!" it called. "Get over here now! Your stupid cat just shit on my bed!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," said Meng Fanzhe as he whipped around and ran out of the room.

Laughing, several of the others followed him: "Man, this idiot's way too unlucky," they said almost in unison.

"All right, I should be going, too," said Liu Jianjun, climbing to his feet. "Fang Mu, you and I need to play one-on-one sometime."

Fang Mu smiled. "It's a deal."

"As for these watermelon rinds…" Liu Jianjun paused, pretending to be deep in thought, "you guys take care of them!" Then with a laugh he opened the door and slipped out.

Du Yu grabbed a sandal and threw it after him, but it was too late. The sandal merely smacked against the door.

"That jerk," he said, laughing.

Before going to bed, Fang Mu went to the showers to cool down. There, standing beneath the showerhead, his body drenched with ice-cold water, he felt an indescribable happiness well up inside him. Tilting his head back, he let the water wash over him.

Two math students were showering nearby, all the while discussing the "ridiculous body" they'd seen on some girl at the library that day.

Through the frosted glass of the window beside him, Fang Mu could faintly make out the lights of the dormitory opposite. Although blurry, the view seemed somehow warm and cozy.

Actually, life really is full of happiness-it's just that I never felt myself worthy of enjoying it.

Du Yu was already snoring when Fang Mu returned to the dorm, but he'd still been thoughtful enough to leave the desk light on for him.

Fang Mu was exhausted. He hadn't exercised in forever, and his legs and shoulders were already painfully sore. Without waiting for his hair to dry, he climbed immediately into bed.

Feeling something hard beneath his head, he reached under the pillow. It was the dagger.

Lying there, Fang Mu turned the dagger in his hands, inspecting it. The handle was dark green and rough and partly scarred from where it had been burned in the fire. He took the blade from its sheath. It shone cold as death in the light of the desk lamp.

Rolling out of bed, Fang Mu sheathed the knife and stuffed it underneath some clothes in his dresser.

He then lay down once more, switched off the light, and went to sleep.

Later that night, Du Yu woke to the sound of his roommate tossing and turning in his sleep.

"This guy's not having a nightmare again, is he?" he mumbled softly, before once more falling fast asleep.

At 1 o’clock in the morning, Fang Mu suddenly woke with a start, got out of bed and grabbed the knife from the dresser.

Expressionlessly, he slid it underneath his pillow, and then lay back down and pulled the covers overhead.

At last, drowsiness swept over him like a heavy black curtain, and he fell asleep.