SpringSummer
Truth
Therapy
Although
the room was cool, Dr. Wu sweated profusely. He had never before
encountered a patient as resistant to Truth Therapy as Delbert Wayne
Duncan. Dr. Wu's truth protocol usually started with the least
intrusive methods. Subliminal messages that said the word "confess"
throughout the day's audio output. A one per 5 second interval
vocalization that slowed to 6 second intervals and then 7 seconds
until at last, there were 15 seconds between subliminal pleas to
"confess."
Then,
like a distended rubber band the rhythm snapped back until there were
two suggestions per second. Then the elastic would be stretched once
more. A few days of this and the patient was more amenable to copping
a to whatever complicity was being offered.
Should
the subliminals fail, as they had done so with Delbert Wayne Duncan,
Dr. Wu proceeded to Phase II. Delbert Wayne Duncan had earned
videogram privileges and The Unit archived them as a courtesy to
their inmates. Dr. Wu had used a new copy of Videomorph to fabricate
screen to screen conversation with first Robby James and later Steven
Dale.
"Why
don't you come clean, Dad? Why not just tell them what you did so you
can come home?"
Delbert
Wayne Duncan was tricked by the technology but he stayed resolute.
"Do not discuss the case," he would say pausing on every
word for emphasis.
The
faux sons would tell their father how much they missed him. They
would tell him that their mother cried at night. That mean kids
bullied them and they needed their father to sharpen their fighting
skills.
Delbert
Wayne Duncan would choke back the tears. He never wanted his sons see
him cry. He would review martial arts skills he had already taught
his sons. He would dish out fatherly advice but if one of the kids
mentioned, "the case," Delbert Wayne Duncan would terminate
the call.
Dr.
Wu looked around his cramped battleship gray workstation. He moved to
tablets from a travel size aspirin bottle in with a fluid motion he
covered his mouth in a mock yawn and placed the pills on his tongue.
He clutched a 16 ounce plastic cup of water and swallowed the
contents.
The
pills were not aspirin. Dr. Wu purchased large quantities of the
underground drug called Smart, a cognition enhancer that was
unfortunately, highly illegal. Dr. Wu took the precautionary measure
of compressing yellow – brown powder into tablets that resembled
salicylic acid. He even imprinted the word "ASPIRIN" in a
circular pattern.
Amerijail
policy prohibited personnel from bringing OTC's onto the Unit, to say
nothing of illegal Drugs like Smart. But if one of the coaches found
a few aspirin on Dr. Wu and he claimed that he had a terrible
headache and without aspirin vital work could not be performed for
Ms. Watkins, the matter would be resolved swiftly and quietly without
a lot of fuss.
Dr.
Steven Wu turned to see the diminutive Mindy Watkins standing in the
doorway, arms crossed in a display of frustration. He had greeted her
earlier today. No need to say hello every time they crossed paths.
Mindy
Watkins may Dr. Wu feel uneasy even when she was in a good mood.
Visibly frustrated, she challenged Dr. Wu's Asian stoicism. The
windowed closet was a bit claustrophobic even without someone
blocking the doorway. When that someone was a flaming redhead in a
green dress with brass buttons, the situation seemed even more
confining.
"Did
you have a nice lunch?" Dr. Wu asked. Silence.
Dr.
Wu would never get used to the red hair. He had grown up in Nashville
an immigrant family and spent most of his time with other
Chinese-Americans. Young Steven Wu was intrigued with blonde hair and
black skin but he had never seen a redhead until he was 15. A Goliath
of an adolescent with tangerine hair walked up to his friend Lon as
they waited for a school bus.
For
no apparent reason the freckled behemoth with sharp, pointy flames
extended his tennis racquet hand and knocked Lon's books to the
ground. Then as Lon tried to pick up his belongings, the redhead
kicked in stomped on the books. Young Steven thought that he might be
next but one of the brute's followers pointed to something down the
street and they dashed off in that direction. Steven Wu never forgot
the expression on the monster's face and he would never feel
comfortable around gingers of either sex.
"Not
everyone responsive to religious stimuli," Dr. Wu said
nervously. He was American-born but Steven Wu spent most of his
formative years with immigrants and his dialect was a bit third world
at times. At college he trained himself to pay attention to things
like tense and articles and infinitives and possessive nouns and
pronouns. He had made strides but when he got flustered he sometimes
reverted to earlier habits of speech.
Dr.
Wu glanced at Mindy Watkins who remained as calm as a scarecrow..
"Voice
of God work ninety nine per cent.”
Silence.
"We
tweaked the God. Use Jesus instead of Old Testament guy... Not
everyone know God of Abraham."
Briefly,
Dr. Wu wondered if Mindy Watkins had turned into a pillar of salt.
She was as motionless as she was muted. Had she died on her feet with
her eyes open?
"Now,
sons beg father to confess crimes. Look. See," he said pointing
past Mindy Watkins.
Mindy
Watkins turned and approached the table but positioned herself out of
Delbert Wayne Duncan's line of vision. A new nurse suit-- the only
model crafted to resemble a nubile woman, Nurse Cynthia-- was a 7
foot brunette who purred and cooed when she talked. She was equipped
with soft hands that warmed to 110°Fahrenheit.
The
model was currently operated by a diminutive African-American man
named Willie Divine. Pressing Delbert Wayne Duncan's left hand into
her ball glove extremities, Willie made the model purr like an
oversized kitten.
Sweat
poured from the patient on the table. Confession patients expressed
no pain but their hearts would race and they sometimes endured panic
attacks when they prepared for a second treatment. Delbert Wayne
Duncan had grown pale and he seemed to shiver ever so slightly.
"Would
you like to make a confession, Delbert?"
"Hell
no!" he roared.
Dr.
Wu felt his lunch returning and dashed to the waste can in the
cramped office. Once. Twice. Once more. He knelt on the floor and
looked up to see Mindy Watkins standing over him.
"You
are paid for results, Dr. Wu," she stated with exaggerated calm.
Then she was gone.
