When I was around
ten or eleven, my “best friend” was a “fat boy” named David.
I met David in the boyscouts, and since he and I were the only boys
in Troup 462 who had non-commissioned fathers (sergeants' sons), we
naturally became friends (464 was the regular NCO troup).
David had an older
brother named George. George wasn't fat like David, but he was just
as much a “geek”. He was several years older than David and I,
and ended up earning his “Eagle” patch (the highest rank in
boyscouts) while David and I were still friends. George was also a
“child molester”, by most people's definition, or at least a
perversely curious teen, according to my own understanding of such
behavior.
George once tried to
convince me to pump air into my ass in order to make “farts”
using a bicycle pump. He happily demonstrated the technique while I
was visiting David at their house on Davis Hill (a base housing area
for NCO families). I declined, and that was the only time George
tried to get me to drop my pants. He was more interested, it seems,
in my younger brother, who was around 8 years old, while George was
15 or 16.
Because of our age
disparity, George and I didn't interact (a.k.a. “play” together)
very often. But, once there was a new dental clinic being built near
David Hill, and after all the new equipment had been installed there
was a “mountain” of large (refrigerator-sized) cardboard boxes
left out in the parking lot to await disposal.
This mountain of
cardboard was, of course, a magnet for all the kids who lived nearby,
far more fun than any playground, and David, George, me, and my
brother were all there with several other kids; some we knew and some
we didn't.
The cardboard boxes
were perferct for making “forts”, and this, of course, lead to
the familiar game of forming rival “clubs”. Everyone wantd to be
in George's club because he was by far the oldest boy there, and had
built the best “fort”. But, for some reason (guess), George only
let a select few younger children into his “club” and into his
“fort”. My brother was one of the “lucky” ones.
I remember it
seeming strange to me that George would take one of the kids in his
club into a separately closed off box in his fort while he told the
other kids in his club to “keep guard” and not let anyone in
(i.e. the other kids who weren't in his “club”, like me and
David). I also noticed that my brother, Bruce, was one of the kids
invited into George's box.
Afterwards, on the
walk home, I asked Bruce what they did in George's box, but my
brother said he didn't know. But, he “didn't know” only meant
that he didn't know what to call it. So I asked him to describe what
happened, and Bruce told me that George pulled down his pants and
made my brother touch his “weener”. I again remember thinking how
strange this was, but dismissed it because it didn't make much sense,
to me or my brother.
My brother and I
both instinctively steered clear of George after that. But, we never
told anyone about George's “strange” behavior because that's all
it was to us: just strange. And, like I mentioned, George ended up
becoming an Eagle scout, and the last I heard (from the defense team
investigators on my death penalty case), he had joined the Navy and
was a commissioned officer stationed in Hawaii. It is unlikely that
George went on to become a “pedophile”, since he never got
“caught”, and hence never got labelled. Also, I know from
personal experience (I)
that it is extremely common for teenage boys to take advantage of
younger children to explore their sexual feelings as they develop. In
most cases, this exploration is harmless and soon forgotten by botth
teen and child. So, I wouldn't be too surprised if George today
adamently denied anything like this ever happened, and he might even
actually believe that it never did. But, I remember, and I know that
it did happen. And, more importantly, I know what it means.
It means that the
only difference between a “pedophile sex offender” and a
“commissioned Navy officer” is in the label, not the person. I
wish George all the best on his Navy career, and only hope he
remembers me, and my brother, Bruce.
[J.D. August 26,
2015]
Notes:
(I) Many
men, some in very “highly respectable” positions in their
communities, have confessed to me various degrees and forms of such
youthful sexual curiousity; and none of them ever consider themselves
“sex offenders” or even “sexually deviant”. I have also been
the “target” of such curiosity on numerous occassions as a young
child, from several different older children, not just a rare one or
two. (As an adult, I have come to attribute this high frequency of
being a “target” to the fact that I was both beautiful and
submissive as a child - an “easy target”, as they say.)
