to clothe themselves. None of this seemed right. They were weirdos and perverts, whereas he was driven by a motive far more pure. But he wanted something, and he needed it to hold meaning for him alone.
He ranged over the indignities he'd been forced to suffer at the hands of the old man. There was no blurring at the edges of his memory. Even commonly repeated tortures failed to merge into one big picture. Every detail of every mortification was pinprick sharp. What could he take that would? keep his purpose fresh, clear and meaningful? M
Then he'd remembered the shaving. It had happened soon | after his twelfth birthday, a day unmarked by gifts or cards.* The only reason he knew it was his birthday was that he'd 1 caught a glimpse of his birth certificate a few months before when the old man had been sorting through some papers. b. Until then, he'd had no date to call his own. He'd never had
so much as a birthday card, never mind presents, cakes and parties. But who could have been invited to any party of his? He had no friends, he had no wider family. As far as he was aware, the only people who even knew his name were the | crew of the Wilhelmina Rosen. >i
He'd known he was born some time in the autumn, because around the turning of the leaves, the litany of rage that poured into his ears would alter. Instead of, 'You're eight years old, but you still act like a baby,' the old man would snarl, 'You're nine now, time you learned what it is to take some responsibility.'
Around the time he turned twelve, he'd noticed the changes. He'd grown taller, his shoulders straining the seams of his flannel work shirts. His voice had become unreliable, shifting registers as if he were possessed by a demon. And around his cock, dark wiry hairs had started to sprout. He'd imagined this would happen eventually. He'd spent too long living in close confinement with three adult males not to have grasped that at some point his body was going to duplicate theirs. But the reality was simply another source of anxiety. He was leaving childhood behind, without any clear idea of how he could ever become a man.
His grandfather had noticed the changes too. It was hard to imagine how he could be more brutal, yet he seemed to regard it as a challenge to find fresh sources of humiliation. Things had reached a new level of horror when a hawser snapped one morning as they were docking in Hamburg. It had been one of those things that was nobody's fault, but the old man had decided that someone had to pay the price.
When they'd got back to the apartment, he had ordered the boy to strip. He'd stood shivering in the kitchen, wondering which of the familiar agonies awaited him, while his grandfather had raged through to the bathroom, swearing and insulting him. When the old man had returned, he was carrying his cut-throat razor, the blade open and gleaming like silver in the dimness of the afternoon light. Terror had risen like bile in his throat. Convinced he was going to be castrated at the very least, he'd sprung at the old man, fists flying, desperate to escape whatever lay ahead.
He hadn't even seen the punch that hit the side of his head like a mallet. All he knew was a moment of crushing pain, then oblivion. When he'd opened his eyes, it was dark. There was a dribble of dried vomit running from his cheek to the floor and a burning pain in his groin that was sufficiently frightening to render insignificant the dull throb in his head. He lay for long minutes, curled on the cold linoleum, afraid to allow his hands to explore for fear of what they might find.
Eventually, he dared. His fingers crept down his stomach, tentative and slow. At first, he encountered only the cold, smooth flesh of his stomach. Then, just above the pubic bone, there was a sudden change in texture and a jagged stab of pain that made him suck his breath in sharply. He clenched his jaw and pushed himself up on one elbow. It was too dark to see anything, but he decided he'd risk turning on a light. It might bring even more wrath down on his head, but he couldn't bear not knowing what had happened to him.
Almost crying with