The assistant looked at Mr. Harfwyt again and gave a wry
grimace.
"I'm sorry but you have a problem."
Mr. Harfwyt raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yes," the assistant continued. "I'm sorry to tell you this
but you are too big and your limbs are out of proportion."
He waited a moment to allow his words to sink in. "But don't
worry. It's quite common and there is treatment available
nowadays."
"Treatment?"
"Yes. There is medication you can take to shrink your body
and if that does not work, you will have to go for a surgical
reshape."
"Reshape my body?" Mr. Harfwyt's voice rose an octave.
The assistant sighed with the sigh of infinite patience being
pushed past its limit. "What is the problem? Hundreds of
people are going for this treatment and the survival rate is
higher than for most operations."
Mr. Harfwyt's voice was barely a whisper. "Survival rate? Me?
An operation? I'm the wrong size?"
"Oh, no! He's not getting the message. He's going into
denial!" The assistant did not feel confident he could
handle the situation. "I'm sorry, sir! There are other
customers waiting to be served. If you need any more
explanation, I suggest you speak to the manager of the store.
He is an expert on Anatomical Configurations and he will be
able to answer all your questions."
Meekly, Mr. Harfwyt followed the assistant through the
carpeted showroom, past rails of black and brown and blue and
grey jackets, suits, overcoats and raincoats, past shelves of
shirts, underwear, sweaters, scarves, gloves and socks, until
they reached the far end of the showroom; up the stairs, down
the corridor to a door at the far end bearing the sign
MANAGER. The assistant's knock was answered with a muffled
grunt from within. He opened the door, led Mr. Harfwyt inside
and quickly left, closing the door firmly behind him.
"Yes? How can I help you?" the manager's polite tone was
reassuring.
"I... I don't understand what's going on." Mr. Harfwyt
haltingly related his story. "I came to your store to buy a
new suit and... and... the assistant told me that I am the
wrong size... and... and that I will need medication and...
perhaps surgery. I've never heard anything like this
before!"
"Okay. Let me try and explain the situation to you." The
manager offered Mr. Harfwyt a cup of coffee and then
continued.
"You see, we process millions of articles of clothing per
year through our branches all over the world. Many items we
make in our factories and others we buy from other
manufacturers. We are, therefore, experts in serving people
of varying sizes. Originally, when our first branches opened
many years ago, we tried to supply clothing for every
customer who came into our store. This forced us to stock a
very wide range of sizes which was, of course, very
expensive. We had no choice but to pass the costs on to all
our customers.
"Research has now shown that people normally grow to a
certain size but that some people, through no fault of their
own, grow to sizes outside this range; this is known as the
Anatomical Extraconfiguration Syndrome, or AES for short.
Others become disproportionate in the sizes of their limbs
and this is known as the Anatomical Disconfiguration
Syndrome, or ADS for short.
"We know realize that trying to accommodate people suffering
for AES or ADS imposes a tremendous financial burden on the
rest of the population, and clothing suppliers all over the
world have agreed that this cannot be justified, neither
financially nor morally.
"My assistant probably mentioned to you that nowadays, these
conditions can be treated and I would suggest that you
consider either medication or surgery. I personally recommend
you try the medication first -- but before we continue, if
you will care to slip off your jacket and trousers, I will
configurize your anatomy and check my assistant's cursory
appraisal. He is very experienced, but no one is perfect."
Mr. Harfwyt submissively complied and the Manager took out
his collection of metering instruments and began quantifying
Mr. Harfwyt's anatomy.
Half an hour later, he put back his instruments. Mr. Harfwyt
got dressed and they returned to their seats.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but my assistant was
more than right. You are suffering from AES and ADS. You are
both outside the norms and you are disconfigured." The
manager paused for a moment. "Also, you seem to be suffering
from Phalangeal Distorton."
"What is that?" Mr. Harfwyt's voice was barely a croak.
"It means that your fingers are misshapen."
Mr. Harfwyt looked down at his long, thin, tapering fingers.
Mr. Harfwyt was an accomplished guitarist and water-color
painter. "But... but people have always said that I have
artistic fingers!" he protested.
"Mr. Harfwyt, so far as I know, no scientific study has
established any connection between the shape of a person's
fingers and his artistic abilities. Many artists have normal
fingers. Your fingers are 5% longer than the outside limit of
normalcy and 7% too thin. Also, your legs are exceptionally
long."
"At school, they told me that it was my long legs that helped
me become a champion runner." The scene of the ceremony in
which he had received a gold medal at the district
championship flashed before Mr. Harfwyt's inner eyes.
"That's what they used to say in the old days. As I mentioned
before, modern research has not confirmed these allegorical
adages. I would strongly suggest that you seriously consider
treatment. I will give you a copy of my findings and if you
wish to go for a second opinion, you can show them to the
doctor."
The manager rose and led Mr. Harfwyt to the door.
That evening, a dark cloud of depression hung over the
Harfwyt household. After the children were sound asleep, Mr.
Harfwyt discussed the situation with his wife.
"I don't understand what all the fuss is about," protested
Mrs. Harfwyt. "So go to a tailor and order a customized
suit!"
"I can't do that," Mr. Harfwyt shook his head sadly. "If
people see me going into a tailor shop, they will know that I
am suffering from AES and ADS. If the word gets around, who
will want to marry our children? They will know that their
father is a misfit. We have to think of them and their
future."
Mrs. Harfwyt thought for a moment. "I have an idea. We can
buy a sewing machine and I can learn to sew and I can make
your suits for you."
"And if someone asks me where I got my new suit, what can I
say? If I tell them my wife made it, they will understand
straightaway that I couldn't buy one at the regular store and
they will know that I am suffering from AES and ADS and we
are back to square one."
They thought again and after a few moments, Mrs. Harfwyt's
face brightened. "I have the perfect answer to our
problem!"
Next morning, Mrs. Harfwyt went to the store and explained
her idea to the manager. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Harfwyt. I
appreciate your concern and I can assure you that it bothers
us also, but we have already tried your idea. Many years ago,
when the problem first became apparent, one of our stores did
as you suggest and had a tailor resident to make customized
clothing. As you predicted, it enabled misfits to come to the
store like anyone else and order their clothing in private.
Unfortunately, after a while, word got around that we were
catering to misfits and the regular customers stopped coming
for fear of people thinking that they were coming for our
special program. Another branch had a selection of special-
sized clothing hanging on the racks with the regular clothing
to save a misfit the embarrassment of having to walk through
the store to the tailor, but the same thing happened -- our
regular customers started to avoid the store."
That afternoon, Mrs. Harfwyt went to the local library to
research the problem. A librarian led her to a whole section
devoted to Anatomical Misconfigurations. Mrs. Harfwyt began
scanning through the books.
The Quarque Manual of Pediatric Pharmacology explained that
the problem was noted two thousand years ago by the Chinese.
They standardized the size of feet by binding their
children's feet tightly when they were young. The problem
seems to affect about 25% of the population. A specific cause
for the syndrome has not been isolated. Research seems to
link it to hormonal misfunction and there are indications of
genetic dependence.
The condition is treated by medication or by surgery.
Preferred medication for treating AES is Aesolgin, available
as tablets, which is a general size reducer. Specific
misdimensioned limbs are treated with Adsocylic Cream which
is administered to the designated limb. Both are calcium
extractors which reduce the calcium content of bones, causing
the bones to contract.
"The most commonly reported adverse effects with these
medications affect between 5-12% of the population and
include headache, loss of appetite, insomnia, abdominal pain,
dizziness and somnolence. Approximately 1-4% of patients
require discontinuation of therapy because of the extreme
intensity of these adverse effects. The effect of long term
administraion has not been determined. Reduced calcium level
can prevent the formation of bloodclotting agents and
consequent excessive hemorrhaging and there have been
reported incidences of bleeding to death. Advisedly,
treatment should be initiated after the person has reached
his terminal physical development, usually between the ages
of 18-20."
Mrs. Harfwyt made a photocopy of the page and took it home to
show her husband.
[Can you guess what Rabbi Zobin is driving at? Final part
next week.]
