Tomtens

Abstract

CHRISTOPHER MERKNER Tomtens Nils looked behind the mirror to see if a tomten was hiding behind it, but there was noone there. Hebegan to shake with terror. Hewas thoroughly convinced that the tomten had bewitched him. Thetiny creature whose image he saw inthe mirror was himself - From Selma Lagerlöfs TheWonderful Adventure ofNils H H he boy'sfather massagedbadly:he used onlyhisfingertips and HUH fingernails whenstroking his customers. He workedin short, sharpbursts. He pinched.Frequently hisfingers wouldslip,comeupoff themuscleas he was lifting or twisting, and hisnailswould scrapeor gougea lobeortemple. God fuck it,hewouldsay. Thenhewouldpause. He wouldtakea long,soundbreath. He wasa minister. He knewbetter. The boywouldwatchhisfather dab thewoundswithcottonballsand return hishandstothebody, resumethepinching. The boys father had setup hismassagechairand stationin the front entrance ofthelocalgrocery store.The grocery storehadlethim thespaceas a kindness, forthemanwas a local minister. Timeswere tough. Theyknewhecouldusethemoney. Theycouldnotseetheharm inhaving a manofgodwithhissonpostedintheentryway. Theyknew himtobe a quietsortofperson.Theyexpectedhewouldremain a quiet person. Indeed,theboys father spokequietlythroughout his massages. He talkedto every customer. Primarily, he sharedthenamesofpeople fromhisparishand hisprofessional knowledge oftheirpersonallives. His bestlectorhad creditcarddebtintothehundreds ofthousands of dollars.He worried thatthismanmight be stealing from thechurch offering on Sundaymornings. He wasunsureifthismancouldbe trusted. Buthewasgoingtogivehima littlerope,hewouldsay. The Pedersens, IOO on theotherhand,weremorelikely stupidthansterile. Theywouldnot makelovein themissionary positionbecauseLenawas a controlfreak andJorge milquetoast. I meanI lovemyparish, theboywouldhearhis father say, butata certain pointphysics andchemistry tellus semenhas tostayinsidethewoman.Youcannotgiveropetopeoplelikethis. Inpointoffact, theboysfather seldomhadcustomers. Customers wereunexpected. Thousandswalkedright on by, wavingattheminister and hisson asthey passed.As such,hissonwasmadetofill thehours. The boyreally atfirst hadno sayinthisinvolvement. He wasquiteyoung.His mother had died; his father was plainlyalone and poor.When no customers stoppedfora massage, and mostdidnot,thefather calledhissonover. Ifheprotested, theboywasseizedanddragged andmadetoputhisface intothechair'spaddedpillow.He heldhisbreath whilehisfather practicedhistechniques on him. The father s techniqueswerebrutal.The man had no training. He had no touch.And he seemedto knowthis.He oftenaskedforhis son'sfeedback. Stopcrying, hisfather wouldwhisper intohisear,andtell mehowthehellto do this.The one timetheboytoldhim(Maybeuse morepalm>),hisfather thanked himsharply. The boywasthenchopped acrossthespineinone fantastic blow.Those whowerepurchasing their groceries atthefront ofthestoreheardthis.Theyturnedtolookatthe minister and theboyfacedowninthemassagechair.The father smiled at them.He waved. Tapotement, he explained.Justthe tapotement technique. Very biginChina! The boywould notoffer hisfeedback again.He stoppedspeakingtohisfather . He couldbe foundinthefather's chairforsixorseven hoursa daylistening to hisfather comment on thelivesofpeoplefrom hischurch, yetnever speaking aword.The father pressed andstroked and pummeled andpinchedhisson'sbody. He couldfeelthechild's bodygive beneathhishands.Whenever theboy'sbodyhadtried togrow, thefather couldfeelit,sowellhadhecometoknowtheboy'sbody, andhepressed andpinched thosedevelopments away. Assuch, theboystoppedgrowing. He began,instead, to shrink. Bytheageofsixteen, theboywasas bigas he'dbeenatfour yearsold.He required a boosterforthemassagechair. IOI Those who walkedpastthetwoof themovertheyearsbecame concerned. Theyaskedthefather, sometimes, ifhe had morethanone son.The father onlylaughedandnoddedvaguelyButthey weremoved. It would havebeen difficult to ignore:theonce-largeboywas now a helpless imp.Itwascleartoeveryone whattheminister hadbeendoing. So theybeganaskingforand offering moneyformassages, and when theypulledthelittleboyoutofhisfather's massagechair, theyhanded theboytoanother personwhotookthetiny childawaytobe fed. Theyslippedtheboyfoodright from their grocery bags,justoutof thesight oftheminister. The boyatefrozen fish sticks, chocolatecereal, fruits andvegetables, candy, eggs, teabags,entire loavesofbread,bagsof cornmeal-anything atallthey showedhim, anything hecouldgrabright from outoftheir bags.Theylaughedaboutit.Theywerepleased.They didnotmindhisgluttony. Theywatchedas he snappedup anything he couldfind. The onlything thatstoppedhimwasa canoffoiegras. The boyjustlookedat it. He smelledthecan. He shookit. He lookedup atthemanwhohadoffered theboyhisbagofgroceries. The mannodded.Goose liver, he said.The mantookout hispocketknife and cutopen thecan. He handeditdownto theboy.The boysmelled itandfellbackward. His visionblurred. He hadtositup.He swipedhis fingers through thefoiegrasandshovedhisfinger inhismouth.He was suddenly intheair.He wasoutofdoors,soaring overthegrocery store. He tookthewindintohiseyesandcried.He yelledoutand sweptover largespellsofforested land,deerherdsandwhite-tipped lakes.Thenhe returned tothegrocery store. The manwasslapping himintheface.Are youthere, little man>He wasshouting. Areyouthere? The boywentafterthefoiegrasand was flying again.When he returned tothestore, hewaslaughing. He smiledandwasredwithpleasure .The manlaughedand toldothersto buytheboygoose liver, becauseitseemedto maketheboyhappy. And theydid.Theyshovedit athim.He ateas muchgooseas they wouldgivehim.Theyshooktheir heads(Whatsortofchildlikesfoiegrasř) ,butthey brought ittohimjust thesame.Andtheboybegangrowing rapidly untilhisfather noticed. One daytheboywascalledover.He wastoldtositinthechair. The boysituatedhimself. The father felttheboy'ssize beneathhishands. 102 You'rea fatHerod,he whispered hisson'sear.You willbe crushed, he said. I doubtit,theboysaid. But his fatherworkedagainsthis son's body.He pressedand pinchedhim.The boycriedout.He squeezedandtwisted theboy'sflesh. He punchedand hackedatit.He pulleda metalbarfrom thehandleof a brokengrocery cartand throttled his son'sshoulders.Butwhenhe returned hishandsto theboy'sfleshagain,he couldsee thatitwas not giving way.Still, hewentbackat thechild,punching and kneading and grinding andtearing athim. Hearingtheboycryout,anolderwomancameoveranddemanded themasseuse. Not now,thefather hissed.I amatworkon myson. I willpayyouwell,pastor, thewomansaid. The boy'sfather paused forjustan instant, and theboyslipped...