A Criminal's Mind

Class

The next day when I get to the office I can hear Ford circling words on a rough paper with a pen, I look up to him, "what are you doing that is causing such an irritating sound?"

Ford turns to me and looks at the paper in his hands, "deviant. Pyromania. Torture. Mutilation."

"And that does what?"

"I've been thinking that we can use career week at some of the local schools to discuss early intervention and these are words we can't use."

I nod, "that's actually not a bad idea."

"You wanna come with me? I'm heading out now."

I shrug my shoulders, "I don't have a lot going on here, why not."

Ford and I head out to one of the local schools and speak with the principal there, "I understand what you're trying to do and I appreciate it. Coming from the FBI, it is a powerful statement."

Ford nods, "but how do we get it across if we can't use these words?"

The principal holds his hand out to take the paper from Ford, "mutilation. If you use that, I guarantee you that at least one of them, Jenny Cromer, Michael Stahl, these are confident, curious children. They will ask what 'mutilation' means."

"And I can describe it, and specifically..."

"And then... a few of them will go home, they'll have nightmares, and tomorrow I'll be fielding calls from parents who will be concerned."

"Parents should be discussing this, too."

"Absolutely."

I take a deep breath, "Holden, I think what he means is, there is a correct way to talk about thses things and since neither of us have children, we may not be the best people to decide how. We need some time to build a foundation for their understanding."

The principal nods, "then I'd be on board."

Ford sighs, "so no, torture." He nods, "could I say hurting? Hurting animals?"

"What about 'being mean' to animals?"

Ford shrugs and clicks his pen as he makes the note. I look over Ford's shoulder and then back to the principal, "you really think that pyromaniacs is too much?"

"mmhmm..."

"And deviant?"

"They will not know what that is."

"A chance to learn," I smile a bit insincerely as I chuckle softly, "we can use context, I'm sure the children could learn."

"It's harsh."

"We need to prepare them for the world."

"Yes, we do. But we also need to protect them from it."

"Which is why we would be discussing it in a controlled and safe environment."

Ford sighs, realizing we aren't going to get anywhere, "I guess we could say... disturbing."

"Listen..." The principal leans forward, "show them your badges. They'll be thrilled."

Ford and I take what we can get and head to one of the classes for the Career Day. When Ford and I are called to speak to the class Ford starts us off, "hello, I'm Agent Ford and this is Agent Freeman." I wave to the kids, "we work at the FBI and our job is to study people who exhibit disturbing behavior."

I nod, "we classify this behavior and it helps the police catch these people when they commit a crime."

"Now, we have been wondering lately if we can stop people from becoming disturbing in the first place."

"That's where you all come in," I smile at the kids, point to them and they laugh.

"By your age, we can start seeing the signs. In this whole classroom, statistically speaking, disturbing behavior would show up in about one of you. Say you have a friend who likes lighting fires. I mean, deliberately setting things on fire, like toys or trash. Another sign that your friend is disturbed, is if he shows a lack of remorse."

I smile and speak through my teeth, "Holden, audience."

"That is, if he's done something wrong, he doesn't feel bad about it." A little girl in overalls raises her hand, "yes."

She puts her hand down, "are only boys disturbed?"

"Perhaps I should be saying he or she, but yes, actually, is it mostly males who are disturbed. Sorry guys," Ford shrugs and the kids laugh.

I chuckle and look toward the kids, "something else we look for is how someone treats animals. If they're nice to them or not. So if your friend is mean to an animal, that's something you should tell an adult." Another little girl with dark pigtails raises her hand, "yes."

She puts her hand down, "my brother throws rocks at our dog."

"That's not very nice," I shake my head.

Ford nods, "but let me ask you this, are they big rocks or little rocks?"

"Mm..." She thinks for a moment, "medium rocks."

"Okay. While that is very mean, that's not exactly what we are talking about. We're talking about forcible... It's not just about being mean to animals, it's... it's about hurting the animals, and you'll know when that's happening because an animal will let you know when it is being hurt."

I take a deep breath, "but you should always tell a teacher, or your mom, or your dad. The idea is that you stop your friend from doing these things now, so they don't become a disturbed adult. Because then they may start to hurt people."

"So..." The class falls quiet, as they should, we are talking about some weird stuff. Ford looks over to me and I shrug my shoulders, "who wants to see our badges?" The class gasps in excitement and they all raise their hands. "Alright, uhh, come up and we'll show you."

Most of the girls in the group come up to me and a few of the boys, while Ford's group is the opposite. As I show them my badge they begin to ask questions, "are you really an FBI agent?"

"Of course, I am," I smile at them.

"Are you married?"

"No, I'm not."

"Are you with Mr. Ford?"

I am taken back by this question and Ford hears it as well, because we both look over to each other a bit confused, "no," I shake my head, "but Mr. Ford is one of my best friends."