Pavlov's Dog

If you've never heard of the Russian scientist, Ivan Pavlov- he did an experiment on dogs and their stimuli- particularly around their dinnertime, when it was time for them to be fed. He'd observed that dogs would drool before food was even served to them, and he carefully conducted his research as to find out what caused this behavior- this type of stimulus, in dogs. In humans, the same behavior can be observed, albeit more cruel- especially if you look at someone who has been a victim of any type of abuse- many times after they've become used to being abused and tormented, it becomes a part of their life, a part of their ordinary everyday existence. This story is of such a girl, Anisha Holcomb- abused from the time she was five to a little after her thirteenth nirthday, when someone finally realized her father was sexually abusing her. After having tried unsuccessfully to interact with the girl, she was remanded from social custody and ushered into the care of one Dr. Elliot Bartle, a psychiatrist, and his assistant- Marjorie Peters, a grad student at U.C.L.A. Over the course of three years, they watched, observed, and studied this girl in an attempt to find some way to get her to understand them. And at the end of it all, they both knew that the only way in helping the girl to come out of herself was in getting her to acknowledge and finally, relinquish- her horrible past.

In studying to be a clinical psychiatrist, I had the distinct luxury of being able to attend one of his lectures on "The Human Mind and Its Many Levels" years later as a student. In asking him a series of questions about some of his most trying cases, Dr. Bartle immediately began telling me about a case he pursued when he was in his late forties...

My heart fell the very first time that she was led into the ward- her hair was matted and messy looking, and her face was streaked with dirt. Marjorie, her afternoon of running errands complete- had stepped into the office holding a rather thick folder full of patient files, when her eyes locked on the sad, small girl in the corner. Her reaction was one word, and simple: "Jeez." My reaction had probably been the same, but on more of a stronger phrase actually.

Anisha held her head up and regarded the both of us- as a small puppy would regard its owners. She didn't move or talk- in fact, she didn't do anything. The female social worker who had brought her to us- Ms. Malone, nervously opened the folder she'd been carrying and pulled out some paperwork. Producing a pen, I stepped forward and Ms. Malone handed me the appropriate papers which regarded transferring a ward of the state to my professional care at the Delmont Institute for the Psychologically Handicapped. I'd worked here for years, in fact, I came here straight out of college and had been a principle member of the crew ever since. Many of my colleagues accepted my work experience and careful judgment on many cases, so I was pretty much trusted by the majority of the head chairmen of various departments. My particular area was the study of the human mind, and for some reason- I could pick apart and analyze the mind and reasoning of damn near anyone. That's what I did, that's how I helped people.

Today, my task was to see if either Marjorie or I could get our newfound 'child' to speak to us. I already had a stack of files and observational notes on the child, but getting her to readily open up to either of us would be the real task. I adjusted my glasses and then gave a simple glance at Marjorie.

"I'm not sure of the time, but we'll probably want to get her down to Warren for a physical before we go up to her room." I said, and made a small notation on the topmost sheet of paper.

Ms. Malone came over to me and started talking to me in a hushed voice, considering the fact that she didn't want Anisha to overhear the things that she was saying.

"I'm not sure of how long it went on, but Anisha's father molested her practically half of the day and night. Not only did he molest her, but he also tortured her by letting other men- perverts like he was- molest her too. He was practically selling his daughter out and nobody knows how long it was for. The damage has been done though, because she won't say a thing to anyone. In fact, the very first time that my boss walked into the holding room with her, she just got undressed and then stood there."

I found that incredulous to believe, and if I hadn't remembered the child was right there with us, I'd have blurted out my response.

"You mean she actually undressed in front of Mr. Mathison?"

Ms. Malone nodded her head and then looked over at Marjorie, before giving me her attention again.

"Well, I was thinking that if you're going to be handling her case, you might benefit more from having Marjorie around more definitely. From what I can tell, only men abused her- so she might not see Marjorie as threatening, whereas you..." She left the statement open, and I understood immediately.

"Whereas she might perceive me as wanting to have a go at her, is that what you're thinking?" I asked.

Ms. Malone cleared her throat cautiously and then handed over the other file, which I graciously accepted. Giving the paperwork a guick glance, I slowly put the pen back into my pocket, then I closed the folder and looked up at Ms. Malone.

"Well, I guess all I can really say is thank you for bringing her here for me. I really do appreciate that." I said, then extended my hand towards her direction. Ms. Malone slowly accepted my politeness by giving my hand a quick shake with her own.

"I'm still not convinced that you'll be able to do any better than we did, but a lot of people have vouched for your particular style of care- so..." she said. I nodded politely.

"I'll be sure to keep you in touch with the situation. Marjorie will help me too. Is that acceptable?"

Ms. Malone nodded again, this time with more pleasantness.

"It is. Again, I do hope that you're ready for the challenge ahead of you. Dealing with her won't be easy."

I nodded and then smiled. Looking over at Anisha, I realized that the small girl was probably more of afraid of me than I was of her. That was what Marjorie and I would be working on. With a lot of time and luck, we hoped to be able to bring the girl back to reality.

"Believe me, Ms. Malone-" I said, "I know for a fact that this won't be easy. But I'm also hoping that Anisha hasn't completely shut herself off. That's what matters at this point. I know you're not too comfortable with the idea of handing over a child to someone you only know through reputation, but I assure you that I am one of the best at what I do."

Ms. Malone seemed to be put to ease by that last statement, and she nodded her head before leaving the room in silence. I looked over at Anisha and realized that above all, my job was to make sure that by the time that she left, she was no longer afraid of abuse or emotional well being.

Getting there though...that would be the test of all eternity.