Felix sprang to his feet, and before the surprised eyes of the child and his mother, he bounded about the room, although still managing to drag one leg behind.
Suddenly, he swooped down upon the boy. “Now open your mouth!” he commanded. “Say ‘Ahh.’ ” Felix set the child upon the examining table, screwed his monocle to his eye, reached for the stethoscope, took out a tongue depressor, and peered down the child’s throat, all in one motion. He appeared to thrust his bushy head all the way into the boy’s gullet.
“ ‘Ahhh,’ ” said the boy, as if his life depended on it. “ ‘Aaah.’ ”
Felix snapped the tongue depressor in two and went for the child’s ears. All this happened so quickly that Hans never thought to utter a sound. Felix threw Schatzie a sugar cube and reached for the stethoscope that dangled around his neck. He took out his gold pocket watch and counted to himself, breathing in a stentorian fashion. “Bad boy, bad boy!” Felix said to himself. Schatzie licked his pant leg.
“Now, Hans,” Felix said briskly when he had finished, “you will be a good boy from now on, hmm?” He bent down and pressed his nose against Hans’s, fixing the child in his gaze. “No more troubles for Mutter, hmm?” Hans, terrified, nodded.
“That’s better,” said Felix, straightening up. “First you will take my medicine. You will be good, and then you will give me a nice picture.
Ja?
A nice picture for my walls.”
Hans looked around him and above, as far as he could see, to the grave and smiling photos of children looking down at him.
“Of course,” Hans’s mother said encouragingly. “Of course you shall have a picture.”
“And you, you must get dressed,” said Felix to the child. “And then you shall sit in my nice room outside with Schatzie and wait for Mutter, hmm?” Felix looked significantly at the far corner of his office, far from the examining table, where a large screen cut off the final third of the room. The ceilings were high, with decorated moldings at the top. Paint was peeling, and the radiators muttered. But the room was nice and warm. Hans wondered vaguely what was behind the screen. Felix snapped his fingers and Schatzie emerged from the corner, wagging her entire fat body. Deftly, Felix pulled a dog candy from out of a sleeve, and with the other, he plucked a lollipop from Hans’s ear. He held the lollipop in the air. “You see, this has been the problem all along!” he declared. “Bad boy, why do you not tell Uncle Felix you hide candy in your ear!”
Hans’s mother clapped her hands with delight, as if to encourage the jollity, and Hans managed a wan, unwilling smile. “Bad boy, bad boy,” chanted Felix, and he gave the child the lollipop.
“Schatzie, come!” he commanded, snapping his fingers once more, and the dog waddled heavily toward the waiting room. “Hans!” The child walked obediently behind the dog, casting reluctant backward glances at his mother as he went. “Mutti will only be a little while,” said Felix. He looked significantly at Hans’s mother, at the screen that hid the couch with the silken cover, and motioned the child out. “Sit, Schatzie! Sit, Hans!”
Hans’s mother was already unbuttoning her coat, fumbling with the too-small buttonholes. “Now, Hans,” warned Felix, “if you are a bad boy, Uncle Felix will know.” He raised his voice suddenly, sharply. “Sit,” he commanded. Both Hans and Schatzie sat on the little sofa outside of the examining room, next to the umbrella stand, their round eyes looking up at Felix as he wagged a reproving finger at them both. Hans put the lollipop in his mouth and tasted it carefully. He put his other arm around the dog.
“The child will be fine, dear woman,” Felix said to Hans’s mother, carefully shutting the large oak door to his office. Hans’s mother made an imploring gesture toward her son, but Felix raised one gnarled hand as if to forestall her words.
Suddenly, he swooped down upon the boy. “Now open your mouth!” he commanded. “Say ‘Ahh.’ ” Felix set the child upon the examining table, screwed his monocle to his eye, reached for the stethoscope, took out a tongue depressor, and peered down the child’s throat, all in one motion. He appeared to thrust his bushy head all the way into the boy’s gullet.
“ ‘Ahhh,’ ” said the boy, as if his life depended on it. “ ‘Aaah.’ ”
Felix snapped the tongue depressor in two and went for the child’s ears. All this happened so quickly that Hans never thought to utter a sound. Felix threw Schatzie a sugar cube and reached for the stethoscope that dangled around his neck. He took out his gold pocket watch and counted to himself, breathing in a stentorian fashion. “Bad boy, bad boy!” Felix said to himself. Schatzie licked his pant leg.
“Now, Hans,” Felix said briskly when he had finished, “you will be a good boy from now on, hmm?” He bent down and pressed his nose against Hans’s, fixing the child in his gaze. “No more troubles for Mutter, hmm?” Hans, terrified, nodded.
“That’s better,” said Felix, straightening up. “First you will take my medicine. You will be good, and then you will give me a nice picture.
Ja?
A nice picture for my walls.”
Hans looked around him and above, as far as he could see, to the grave and smiling photos of children looking down at him.
“Of course,” Hans’s mother said encouragingly. “Of course you shall have a picture.”
“And you, you must get dressed,” said Felix to the child. “And then you shall sit in my nice room outside with Schatzie and wait for Mutter, hmm?” Felix looked significantly at the far corner of his office, far from the examining table, where a large screen cut off the final third of the room. The ceilings were high, with decorated moldings at the top. Paint was peeling, and the radiators muttered. But the room was nice and warm. Hans wondered vaguely what was behind the screen. Felix snapped his fingers and Schatzie emerged from the corner, wagging her entire fat body. Deftly, Felix pulled a dog candy from out of a sleeve, and with the other, he plucked a lollipop from Hans’s ear. He held the lollipop in the air. “You see, this has been the problem all along!” he declared. “Bad boy, why do you not tell Uncle Felix you hide candy in your ear!”
Hans’s mother clapped her hands with delight, as if to encourage the jollity, and Hans managed a wan, unwilling smile. “Bad boy, bad boy,” chanted Felix, and he gave the child the lollipop.
“Schatzie, come!” he commanded, snapping his fingers once more, and the dog waddled heavily toward the waiting room. “Hans!” The child walked obediently behind the dog, casting reluctant backward glances at his mother as he went. “Mutti will only be a little while,” said Felix. He looked significantly at Hans’s mother, at the screen that hid the couch with the silken cover, and motioned the child out. “Sit, Schatzie! Sit, Hans!”
Hans’s mother was already unbuttoning her coat, fumbling with the too-small buttonholes. “Now, Hans,” warned Felix, “if you are a bad boy, Uncle Felix will know.” He raised his voice suddenly, sharply. “Sit,” he commanded. Both Hans and Schatzie sat on the little sofa outside of the examining room, next to the umbrella stand, their round eyes looking up at Felix as he wagged a reproving finger at them both. Hans put the lollipop in his mouth and tasted it carefully. He put his other arm around the dog.
“The child will be fine, dear woman,” Felix said to Hans’s mother, carefully shutting the large oak door to his office. Hans’s mother made an imploring gesture toward her son, but Felix raised one gnarled hand as if to forestall her words.
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