by Leigh Lyn
“Well yes, but I believe it can and will happen.” Wen paused and gazed at the protestors at street level who were taking a siesta on yoga and bamboo mats on the road.
“It’s a long shot, James. If she does not have that kind of development potential, a prolonged state of crisis could lead to suicide or psychosis… Do I need to remind you where your patient is right now?”
Au-Yeung tugged at his jacket and shoved his large hands in its pockets. “You want my advice? I think your initial prognosis was right on the money. It’s a shame the patient tried to out-smart you. She’s not stupid, just not smart enough. I—”
Wen raised his hand to stop Au-Yeung. “My initial prognosis is what I’m no longer comfortable about. You see… I’ve lost sight of what is the right thing rather than the sensible professional thing to do. When it’s not right, informed and emancipated and stubborn individuals like Lin will feel wronged no matter how professional and by the book it is.”
“But James, all I’m trying to say and—”
“I heard what you said! You may think I am a fool, but this time, I want to do what is right. For once.”
“Listen, James—”
“Hear me out, please? If only we can park this MRI truck of yours nearby and sneak her out for an hour. I have a plan.”
“This is ludicrous. What do you intend to achieve?” Au-Yeung groaned. “You want to rescue and cure her so she can take her demon head-on?” His gaze sailed over the catnapping youngsters outside.
“I don’t want to play God. I just want to help her get out of the asylum or G.Y.’s facilities if, indeed, irregular practices are being conducted there. I believe my job is not to turn a blind eye.” Wen averted his stare from Au-Yeung to the youngsters. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Do you want to hear my plan or not?”
“Aargh!” Au-Yeung threw his hands in the air and growled, “I give you ten minutes.”
“We’re retired,” Wen said. “Where are we going to go after ten minutes that can’t wait until we’ve saved one more life?”
Au-Yeung shook his head. “That fact that our career is over doesn’t mean you can’t still ruin it.”
“In my book, it’s already ruined if I don’t help her.” Wen glared at Au-Yeung. “I dare you, my stubborn goat of a friend. One for the road?”
Au-Yeung burst into a hearty chuckle. They stuck their white heads together and talked for hours.
Chapter 53
Two days later, Wen and Au-Yeung stepped out of a taxi in front of a five-foot-tall logo at G.Y.’s facilities facing Tai Tam Bay in Hong Kong. The two men entered the modern lobby with its white stone walls and walked up to a glass counter, behind which a lonesome receptionist looked dwarfed by the space.
“Hello, dear. I’m Dr. Wen. Can you let Dr. Liu know I am here?”
The young woman with fashionable straight bangs glanced at her watch. “You have an appointment, sir?”
“A lunch appointment, yes.”
“Please, take a seat while I notify Dr. Liu.”
She pressed a few buttons on a panel while the two sat on black Barcelona chairs with curved, polished-steel legs. Five minutes later, a woman in a long white linen tunic appeared and took them through a maze of gleaming glass corridors with intriguing views on polished chrome labs to a slow, humming elevator. They went down three floors to another abandoned corridor where the young lady stopped at a gray door and knocked.
“Come in,” a raspy voice said. The woman opened the door and stepped aside to let Wen and Au-Yeung enter.
Not having seen Liu in three years, it occurred to Wen how pale his skin was and how spindling his frame as the man got up from behind his desk to greet them.
“What a pleasant surprise, Dr. Wen.”
“Good to see you, Dr. Liu. Excuse the imposition, but our previous meeting ended earlier than scheduled. So instead of waiting at the restaurant I thought I should come see your office and whisk you away for lunch. This is my friend Dr. Henry Au-Yeung.”
They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Lui. Old Wen said he was having lunch with you and I’ve always wanted to visit G.Y., so I tagged along. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Liu smiled. “The honor is mine.”
If the man was annoyed, he was not letting on. He took them to a lab where a chimpanzee was jumping from branch to branch around in a cage while another one was lying in a yellow hammock and playing with his toes. Seeing Au-Yeung peer at the tag stuck to the bottom right corner of the cage, Liu blushed. “My apologies, I told the interns to change their names so many times already.”
“That’s alright.” Wen shrugged. “What’s going on with Chimp C and Chimp Y?”
“We gave them different atypical antipsychotics which are bio-engineered after synchronizing the genomes of rare herbs. Supposedly, Chimp C’s brain is induced to release CalmZyne, which is making him dozy. Chimp Y’s brain hasn’t calmed down yet from the dopamine rush yesterday when we nearly OD’d him. Because the impact of the dosage varies between different specimens due to weight, fitness, and gender, we’re aiming to produce an internal dispatch system regulated by nanosensors that measure the subject’s state and needs.”
“I see. Where do the herbs come from?” Wen shot Au-Yeung a glance. “We’ve heard about your place, what’s the name?”
“That would be 8th Sky,” Lui said. “Our facility in the mountains of Chongqing’s Gorges.”
“That’s right! I’d love to go and visit this place,” Au-Yeung chimed in. “Who is in charge of the research there?”
Liu frowned, looking from Wen to Au-Yeung. “I believe Dr. Ma has been for a few years now.”
“I remember being impressed by an article about a research project there some years ago. It was outstanding and so well presented, but I remember it was a different name. Who was in charge before him?”
“That must have been Dr. Li.”
“That’s the one. You should read that article, James. The man synchronized the genomes of thousands of herbs in Li Shizhen’s almanac of Chinese medicine. He used it to figure out how and why they work. I’ll pass it on to you. It’s fascinating.”
“Has this Dr. Li retired already?” Wen asked in a level voice, while his gaze wandered over the certificates hanging on the walls.
“I’m afraid Dr. Li passed away a few years ago. Now, if you want to follow me.”
As Liu wheeled around and led the way, Wen shot his old pal a meaningful glance, but Au-Yeung’s face remained inscrutable with eyes half-mast. After the short tour, they returned to Liu’s office. Passing heavy white doors with small wired glass-vision panels, Wen stopped and peeked into a room padded up to the ceiling. A mattress lay on the ground. The room appeared empty except for a foot protruding in the lower left corner of his vision. Someone was sitting with their back against the door.
“You need isolation rooms for lab experiments?” Wen gasped.
“Oh no,” Liu replied. “These cells belong to the psychiatry department. For the convenience and efficiency of our staff, different departments are located under one roof.”
“That’s a rather unusual set up.” Wen said, matter-of-factly. “Is Lin Lee here?”
Liu pulled back. “Yes, she is,” he said, after a short hesitation. “She’s been back for a few days.”
“Excuse my imposition again, but—” Wen tilted his head “—can I talk to her?”
“I’d rather you wouldn’t although I would have been disappointed had you not asked.” Liu sighed.
“I know it’s irregular, but it would make me feel better. For whatever reason, I have felt bad about her case.”
Liu’s brows were knitted tightly. Shaking his head, he was about to turn down Wen, who insisted. “It will mean the world to me. I believe I had established a relationship with her that would help.”
Liu sighed again. “You can try I guess, but she hasn’t spoken since she’s come back.”
The talkative, excitable woman Wen once knew w
as sitting motionless on the edge of the mattress in the corner of the room.
“How long has she been like this?” Wen asked, peering into the room through the vision panel.
“Two years,” Dr. Liu said, softly. “Ever since we diagnosed her.”
“How sure are you about your diagnosis?”
“You wouldn’t be the first to be skeptical.” Dr. Liu shrugged, ignoring the intensity of Wen’s stare. “But without a doubt, I met five of her alters. I met a rambunctious male architect, a foxy Shanghainese, an artist, a Dutch or Belgian art-dealer, and a little girl.”
Wen felt his throat close up, recognizing them from Lin’s manuscript. “I feel terrible.”
“Don’t be; there was nothing you could have done,” Liu said. “I assure you.”
“How so?” Wen asked.
“They are rather unusual alters,” Dr. Liu said.
Wen tilted his head. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“I wouldn’t see them as victims, is what I’m saying,” Dr. Liu sighed. “As strange a thing that is to say about a patient.”
“I still don’t understand,” Wen said.
“To be honest, I don’t quite understand it myself,” Dr. Liu said. “It’s an extraordinary case.”
Wen’s left brow ticked up. Wide-eyed, they gazed at one another for a few seconds before he said, “Well, listen, I do feel responsible. Would it be possible for me to spend a little alone time with her?” Wen peeked through the panel again to find Lin rocking back and forth with her head between her lap.
“What, you mean right now?” Dr. Liu frowned.
“Yes, why don’t you and Wong go for lunch?” Wen put his hand on Dr. Liu’s skinny shoulder. “I want a little more time, perhaps take her outside for some fresh air.” Seeing Dr. Liu’s narrowed eyes, Wen asked, “She gets to go out for fresh air, does she not? Even prisoners have the right to that.”
Looking skeptical, Dr. Liu unlocked the door and stepped back, letting Wen into the padded room. After the door closed, Dr. Wen sat down on the thin mattress lying on the carpeted floor of the white padded room and gazed at the heap of hair and skinny frame in the stiff straightjacket.
“Hey, Lin,” Wen whispered.
The rocking stopped.
“I’m sad to see you like this. If I had known, I would have kept you on; postponed my retirement or something.”
The heap of hair lifted. Between the unruly strands, Lin looked up, blinking at the glare of the ceiling light.
He smiled. “It’s me, Dr. Wen. I’ve come to see what I can do.”
Her cracked lips shaped soundless words and Wen bent forward to put his ear closer to her mouth. “What was that, my dear?”
“Do you remember?” she whispered.
“What, my dear?” Wen said, as he leaned back to look at her.
“Don’t you remember?” Lin whispered, turning her face away while averting her eyes.
“What is it you want me to remember, Lin?” Wen asked.
Putting her head back between her knees, Lin resumed the rocking while whispering, “Do you remember? Don’t you remember?”
“Lin?” Wen kneeled in front of her and touched her shoulder, startling her. She scurried to the farthest corner as fast as she could, glancing at the upper corner of the room before resuming to sway back and forth. Wen, too, glanced from the corner of his eye at the spot Lin had peeked twice. Mounted on the ceiling was a gray-tinted acrylic half-sphere with the glimmer of a lens inside.
“Lin?”
Wen followed her and sank to a kneeling position in front of her. Lin pressed herself as far into the corner as she could, turning her back and withdrawing to a place deep inside.
Together, they sat in silence for a minute before Wen ventured to ask, “Lin, shall we go outside for a breath of fresh air?”
The rocking stopped.
“Would you like to go for a walk and enjoy the sun?”
Lin lifted her head and looked at Wen. He got up and waved over Ah Mak, the male nurse who Liu arranged to stand outside the door just in case.
A few minutes later, Lin was sandwiched between the two and led to the garden ground behind G.Y. Once there, they sat her down on a bench. The nurse retreated to make Lin more at ease and looked on from some distance.
“Are you OK, Lin?” Wen asked the young woman. She tilted her face up to the sky while her eyes roamed over the top of the trees. Her colorless lips were still repeating the same phrase over and again. “Do you remember?… Don’t you remember?… Do you remember?”
“Can you give me a clue what it is you want me to remember, Lin?” Wen asked, glancing at the male nurse, after which he checked his watch.
Pulling her knees up to her chin, she rested her chin on her knees and seemed to be wallowing in the sunshine while rocking back and forth, chanting the phrases to herself softly.
Wen touched her knee. This time, she did not pull away but continued rocking. Wen waved Ah Mak over again.
“It seems to be working, but you know what?” Wen said. “I will walk her around. The physical exercise may relax her nerves and bring back a sense of normalcy.”
Ah Mak cast a quick glance at Lin. “I’m sorry, sir, but after the incident last week, Dr. Liu has instructed this patient must be guarded at all times.”
“Yes, but I’m here. I’m guarding her.” Wen took out his wallet and handed Ah Mak two hundred Renminbi. “Would you mind fetching us some coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches? Get yourself a coffee and something to eat too.”
Ah Mak frowned, yet took the money and left. Wen helped Lin to her feet. They reached the edge of the lawn and strolled down the path toward the end of the garden. An MRI truck was parked around the corner.
“Are you alright to walk a little faster?” Wen asked Lin. “There’s something I’ve arranged.”
She stopped squirming and rocking. Her gaze darted to the gate with an intense sheen Wen had not seen before. They were walking faster, but still it took forever for them to reach the gate.
“Excuse me, sir!” a male voice called out to them.
Wen turned around and saw a short and stocky young man in hospital scrubs walking toward them. “Ah Mak asked me to come and assist you in his place.”
“Oh,” Wen replied, steering Lin around. “We’re just walking. Getting the body to exercise helps the patient relax and strengthen her mind,” he said, giving Lin a pat on the shoulder. “Remember when I said your illness was physiological? This, on the other hand, is all in the mind.”
In the taxi on the way back to Hong Kong, Wen handed Au-Yeung a hair wrapped in a tissue. The look on Au-Yeung’s face said it all.
“Alright, alright, I know you told me it was a long shot bordering on ludicrous, but I would have felt terrible if I didn’t try,” Wen said, taking a tissue out of his suit pocket. “At least, we got the DNA sample. When I pulled the hair from her head, she scurried to the corner, but no one should have noticed.”
From the inside pocket of his jacket, Wen took out the envelope he’d found sandwiched in the manuscript and handed it to Au-Yeung too.
“It’s not as conclusive as a brain-scan would have been, but it’s not nothing.”
Au-Yeung tapped Wen on the knee. “You know what? If it weren't for what you’re saying, Dr. Liu would have me fooled. It seems he’s acting too agreeable to be in on something so diabolic. During lunch, he told me about the research they’re doing which—if successful—is impressive.”
“Who was it—” Wen interrupted him, then paused, trying to recall a name. “Was it Foucault who said people often know what they do and why they do it, but rarely know what they do really does?”
“What are going you on about now?” Au-Yeung rolled his eyes.
“I’ve known Dr Liu for ten years. He’s one of my closer affiliates. We’re not pals like you and I, but we are friends. My point is that, from his perspective, Liu is trying to do his job better than everyone else. He may be genuine, but that doesn’
t make it right,” Wen added with a clenched jaw. “And if they think I will give up on my patient so easily, they’ve got another thing coming.”
Chapter 54
The sun was setting. Approaching the pier where he’d moored Chang E, Wen heard the frantic barking of Bull’s Eye from afar. The little dog jumped up to welcome him in the cabin, encircling the old man in a doggish frenzy and licking him wherever he could. After feeding him and letting him do his business in a tray in the corner of the deck, Wen scanned the shore through his binoculars. He saw nothing suspicious, except for a black seven-seater he had never seen before parked on the private road between him and his neighbor on the left. Making a mental note to ask around about the vehicle, Wen took the little dog out for supper at Brother Keung’s eatery, which was crowded. The kind proprietor added another folding table to the dozen already set up on the restaurant’s terrace facing the beach. A calm sea breeze cooled Wen’s skin as he watched the light over the sea fade with a beer in his hand and Mr. B at his feet. While waiting for his roasted goose dinner to arrive, he pondered the day’s findings at G.Y.
Lin’s case was complex. Although Wen had no doubt it was rooted in reality, he was not sure which version and whose take on this reality was the least fallible. Even if Dr. Liu was genuine, there were undeniable clues the version of reality Lin had pursued was solid. So solid they would want to silence her. It would be another week before the tests came back, but Wen was optimistic. Lin’s reality seemed laced with fragments of hallucination, but she was clear-minded enough to make it all the way from Chongqing to 8th Sky and back. That proved something.
There were the voices in her sleep before the bout with the crescent knives. In a psychotic, hallucinatory spell in which she had the impression her or Shi Gong’s life had been threatened by the bonesetter, she, or her alter, might have thought she saved Shi Gong but killed him instead. Either way, it scared her to the end of her wits, and she fled. Evidently, she fooled Wen during her last session and left in high spirits. Only to break down within an hour, confounded by an epiphany after she guessed the voices were Shi Gong and Li Meng’s. Though obvious, that conclusion did not explain what the epiphany was about and why she was so devastated as to drop everything and flee home.
