I set my coffee mug on the hearth. The fire pops and cracks behind the glass screen. I take Suzanne’s mug from her hand and set it beside mine. I get up on my knees and move over her.
“Daddy?”
I look up. It’s Peter. “What is it, son? Why aren’t you asleep?” He has certainly interrupted at a most inopportune time.
“I was asleep. Tommy woke me up. I think he’s crying.” The boys’ guestroom is next-door to Peter’s room, so if Tommy is crying, Peter could hear it.
“Alright, I’ll go talk with him. You go on back to bed.”
“Yeah,” Peter yawns and absentmindedly reaches inside his shorts to scratch his behind. “Tell him to keep it down.”
“I will. Come on, son, let’s get you back to bed.”
“Goienag,” Suzanne says.
“Night, Mom.”
Peter and I walk together down the hall to the foyer and then up the stairs.
When I get to the boys’ guestroom, I do not hear Tommy crying. The light is on. I knock. No answer. I knock again and walk in. Tommy is lying on the bed in his underwear. He is no longer crying, but it is obvious that he’s not been long stopped.
It breaks my heart to see what the neglect in Tommy’s young life has done to him. He is a cute boy: freckles and bright blue eyes, he is the picture of American youth. But a closer look shows his fair skin is marked with scars. According to the doctor, the brownish one just above his navel was caused by a cigarette burn when Tommy was just an infant. Yes, that’s the kind of childhood Tommy has had.
I sit on the edge of the bed beside him. “Are you okay, sport?”
No response.
“Peter said you woke him up. You been crying?”
Tommy looks at me. “Glen, please don’t take me out of Home Time. I’m sorry about what I did. I mean it. I won’t do it anymore. I’ll tell Carla I’m sorry.”
“You know the rules, Tommy. Any inappropriate behavior and Home Time privileges are revoked for a month.” I see the tears well up in Tommy’s eyes.
“Chris doesn’t want me and now you don’t.” He starts to cry.
I was afraid of this. “Did Chris tell you that?” I ask.
“No. But he told you to come get me yesterday, didn’t he?” Tommy wipes his eyes.
“Tommy, Chris’ wife is expecting a baby at any time. I think having a new person in their home right now was too much for her to handle.”
“No, she’s real nice. It was...” Tommy hesitates. There is something hidden in his eyes. “I thought Chris liked me,” he finally says.
I ponder the comment. “Tommy, Chris does like you. Did something happen Friday night that you’re not telling me about?”
I can tell the question hits a nerve, but he covers it by rolling on his side to turn away from me. “Nothin’ happened,” he says toward the wall.
“But something did happen here tonight,” I tell him.
Tommy doesn’t say anything. He just weeps silently.
I am moved to touch the boy, to hold him and let him cry it out in my arms. But I hesitate, for I know from experience the thin line I am approaching—especially if my suspicions about what has happened between him and Chris are true. I move my hand over Tommy, and as I look at it, poised to touch him, I am struck by one thought: Before New Horizons, the only male hands that have touched this boy were hands of anger or hands of lust.
“Tommy, you said that Chris doesn’t want you and now I don’t. That’s just not true, son.”
“Then why did he...?” His voice is muffled as he speaks half into the pillow.
“Why did he what?”
“Nothin’. I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“Tommy, Chris didn’t ask me to come get you because you had done anything wrong. He told me it was just too much on Mary.”
“Yeah,” he says in a detached way.
“But you did do something wrong tonight,” I add. “And that’s the only reason I’m taking you out of Home Time. It’s just the rules.”
“I said I’m sorry, you just don’t believe me. You’re just like Chris.”
He refers to Chris again. Something has happened between them. Tommy has never had a negative thing to say about Chris. At least not to me.
“I do believe you’re sorry,” I tell him. I shift my position on the bed.
“No, please don’t leave me alone, Glen.” He reaches out and grasps my arm.
“I wasn’t going to leave. Just moving. My leg’s going to sleep.”
“Will you stay with me for a while? Till I fall asleep?” He sniffs and wipes his eyes.
“Alright,” I say, “get up and let’s get you tucked in.”
Tommy gets off the queen-size bed and helps me turn back the spread and covers. “Didn’t you bring any pajamas?” I ask.
“I sleep in my underwear.” He crawls up on the bed. “Glen?” he says as he slips under the covers. He is waiting to pull them up, obviously intent on me lying with him. “Aren’t you gonna lay down with me?”
“No,” I answer.
“Why not?”
“Tommy, I want you to go to sleep. It’s late.” Tommy turns away and I can feel him withdrawing, both physically and emotionally. I reach out to him. “Come here,” I say.
Tommy sits up and moves over beside me. He leans against me and I put my arm around him and rub his back. Before I can react Tommy’s hand moves from his thigh to mine, and then to my crotch.
“No,” I say, and move his hand away.
Other than my own two sons, I have not been this close to a young boy in a long time. The feeling is familiar and yet strange. I know the touch and smell of Peter and Benjamin. Smooth skin and the sweet musk of youth. It is there in Tommy, but different.
“I’m sorry, Glen. Don’t leave me,” he says.
“I won’t leave you,” I tell him.
Chapter 2
Eros Defiled
The blank incident report is in my hand. In my ten years as director and chief of staff of New Horizons I have had to file three such reports involving sexual misconduct on the part of a counselor. Twice with male counselors. Once with a female. In minor cases of sex activity among residents, the matter is handled in house, or with the assistance of DSS. But there are tougher laws which bind me to report outright sexual involvement between a staff member and a boy in our care.
As I look at the incident report, I am hoping that nothing significant enough occurred Friday night between Tommy Jackson and Chris Manning to warrant an official report. I am about to find out.
I reach for the phone and press Chris’ extension. Chris answers on the second ring.
“It’s Glen, Chris. I need to see you as soon as you get a chance.”
“Okay. I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment with a referral from DSS. Do you want to meet before then?”
I glance at my watch. It’s 9:35. I tell Chris to come on down to my office.
“How was Home Time with Tommy?” Chris asks as he sits in one of the leather chairs facing my desk.
I lean back in my desk chair and study Chris’ face. Sincerity. No sign of guile. But after everything that happened last night, I am convinced I know what has precipitated Tommy’s behavior. I get up, walk over, and close the door. Chris eyes me as I walk back to my desk. It would be best if he would tell me what has happened without me having to ask directly. I try to give him an opening.
“We had a slight problem with Tommy last night,” I tell him.
“Oh?” Chris says with raised eyebrows. “What happened?”
I tell Chris of Tommy’s sexual overture to Carla, our baby-sitter. And to me in his bed last night. I ask if he can offer an explanation.
Chris considers my question. He shakes his head.
“There has to be an explanation for a regression of this magnitude in such a short amount of time,” I say to Chris. “I thought maybe you might know something that could shed some light on it.”
Chris gets up and begins to pace around my off
ice. He stops in front of my desk and rubs his hand across his mouth. He turns to look at me. “I do,” he finally says.
“I’m listening.”
“Friday night, Glen. Jesus, it’s been driving me crazy. I was going to come to you about it. I was. It’s just...” I notice that Chris’ hand is trembling as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair.
“Sit down, Chris.”
“No, no, I’d rather stand.” He starts to pace again.
I reach for the carafe of hot coffee on the table behind my desk and pour some into the New Horizons mug sitting beside it. I offer Chris some. He declines. I take a sip and look him in the eyes.
“I can’t believe it happened,” he says.
And with that admission, my suspicions are confirmed. I raise my finger to stop him from speaking further and reach for the phone. I punch in the receptionist’s number. I tell her that Chris is going to be late for his ten o’clock appointment. I then take the small micro-cassette recorder I use for dictation from my pocket and place it on my desk.
Chris looks at the recorder and back at me.
“We have to tape this,” I tell him.
He nods, but doesn’t say anything.
I push the RECORD button. “This is Dr. Glen Erskine, director of New Horizons. With me is Chris Manning, a tier two counselor at New Horizons. The date is October 30, 1995. The time is…” I look at my watch “…9:42 A.M. Mr. Manning has consented to the recording of this interview, and he will identify himself now and confirm that.” I nod to Chris.
“This is Chris Manning,” he says. “I agree to this conversation being recorded.”
“Alright, Chris. Let’s hear it. What happened?” I ask.
“It was stupid, Glen. Just stupid. I know better. But at the moment, when it was actually happening, I thought it was good for Tommy. He...” Chris stops.
“He what?” I ask.
Chris lets his head drop. “He enjoyed it.” He looks up with tears in his eyes. “So did I,” he says, almost in a whisper.
“I need to know how serious this is,” I tell him. I look at the questions on the form in front of me. Sexual contact in descending order of severity: penetration, oral copulation, masturbation, fondling, petting and/or kissing.
“Was there petting or kissing?”
“Yes.”
“Fondling?”
Chris nods.
I make a note on the form. “Did you manually stimulate Tommy? Masturbation?”
Chris looks away and nods. “In a way, I guess I did,” he says.
“Did Tommy manually stimulate you?”
“Yes.”
“Oral copulation?”
Chris hesitates. “No.”
I make another note. “Was there anal penetration?”
“For God’s sake, Glen, I’m not gay.”
“Chris, you know this has nothing to do with sexual orientation. Now, did you have anal intercourse with Tommy?”
“This is going to kill Mary,” he says, still looking away. “She’ll divorce me. I’ll never get another counseling position.” Chris looks at me. “I’ve ruined my life, haven’t I?”
My anger is up. “Your life? What about Tommy, Chris? Did you stop to think about what this might do to him?”
Chris reacts as if I slapped him with a wet towel. He realizes what I’m saying and the look of regret in his face is now grounded elsewhere.
“Did you threaten or force Tommy at any point?”
“No, no, it wasn’t like that.”
“So there was petting, kissing, and mutual masturbation, and that’s all that happened?”
I wait for his answer.
“Chris?”
“What? Yes. I mean, no...no...we didn’t kiss. Tommy hugged me...I held him...there was masturbation. That’s all.”
I walk around and sit on the edge of my desk in front of Chris. “Are you sure you are telling me everything?”
“That’s all, Glen, I swear it.”
“Then why did you hesitate when I asked about oral sex?”
Silence.
“Did you fellate Tommy.”
Silence.
“Chris, don’t make this any harder than it already is. Did you fellate Tommy?”
“No, I’ve told you everything.” Chris buries his face in his hands.
“Alright, Chris.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “How did it happen?”
He looks up and rubs his eyes. “I don’t know. It was about eleven o’clock. I went in Tommy’s room to check on him. He had just come out of the shower. He was still drying off, so he was naked. We started horsing around, you know how I play with the boys—they love it. I took the towel and started popping him with it. Anyway, we wound up wrestling around on the floor. He’s naked and I’m in my pajamas—”
“And where was Mary?” I interrupt.
“Asleep. She goes to bed pretty early now. Her back has really been killing her.”
“Okay. What happened next?”
“I don’t know. We’re not wrestling anymore. Tommy’s on top of me. He leans up. We just sort of look at each other. Tommy says...” Chris drifts off.
“What did Tommy say to you?” I ask.
“He said, ‘I really like you, Chris.’ He hugged me, Glen.”
“Did you say anything to him?”
“I told him I really liked him, too. I started rubbing his back and his...behind. The next thing I know, I’ve got an erection. I know Tommy could feel it...he was right on top of me. He had one too and he started grinding on me, Glen. Then he pulled my pajamas down and...”
“And what, Chris?”
“He masturbated me.”
“To orgasm?”
Chris nods.
“So he initiated sexual contact?” I ask.
“Yes, he did. I swear it.”
Again I am perturbed by Chris’ self-centered attitude. That Tommy would initiate does not surprise me. For probably the first time in his life, Tommy felt close and intimate with someone he had grown to care for. In one sense, the hugging and closeness was normal and appropriate. But as an abuse victim from a very young age, Tommy has known such closeness before, in darker contexts. And for him, such closeness was always a prelude to something else.
Tommy was responding to Chris in the only way he knew how, just as he had tried to with me last night. But where I put a stop to it with a simple, non-judgmental “No,” Chris’ state of sexual arousal after their heavy petting was, at least for Tommy, a virtual invitation to have sex. Chris should have known this.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” I ask.
Chris sighs. “I don’t know. He was so affectionate, Glen, almost...tender?”
“I understand, Chris. But you crossed the line. And I’ll be the first one to admit that the line is thin. How far is too far? How much is good and how much is harmful?”
“This wasn’t abuse, Glen.”
“It may not have been abuse, but it was still wrong. Sex with a minor is illegal. And you are a licensed counselor, Chris. For us, that thin line is always there and we can’t cross it.”
“I never thought something like this could happen to me,” Chris says.
“That is probably why it did happen to you. Why do you think we have that ‘Statement on Sexual Misconduct’ in the personnel manual, Chris? These things can and do happen. An acceptance of the possibility would have allowed you—no, it would have forced you—to keep your guard up, Chris.” I let my statement soak in. This experience will be cathartic for Chris. It may even make him a better therapist. “What about resolution?” I ask.
“Resolution?”
“How did this encounter with Tommy end?”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“How did Tommy feel about what had happened when it was over?”
I think I have hit on the crux with this question. Chris’ first mistake was allowing things to escalate following arousal. But from what he’s told me, this experience should not have been
traumatic for Tommy. No force was used. Tommy was not injured or coerced or threatened. And if Chris is to be believed, Tommy initiated the sex act. An appropriate resolution would have more than likely ended the matter with no lasting effect on Tommy. But given his behavior at my home last night, I know something is amiss. I repeat the question. “Chris, how did Tommy feel about what had happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Didn’t you talk with him about what you all had done?”
Chris looks at me. He says nothing, but I can see the answer written all over his face. I can’t believe it. “Oh, my God, Chris. Don’t tell me you just left him there.”
He turns, unable to look me in the eye.
“You didn’t say anything to him?”
“I told him not to tell anybody.”
“And what did Tommy say to you?”
Chris looks at me. “He told me he was sorry. He asked me not to leave. He kept saying he was sorry. And I...I walked out. He was crying there on the floor, begging me not to leave him alone.” Chris looks up at the ceiling with tears streaming down his face. “Oh, God, what have I done?”
I am not a violent man, but it’s all I can do to keep from knocking Chris right out of his chair. I clench my fist and grit my teeth. I slip off the edge of the desk and return to my chair. As I sit, Tommy’s entreaty for me not to leave him last night flashes across my mind. At the time I thought he just needed affection, which he did. Now I know it was more than that. He was afraid I would leave him just as Chris had done.
I look at Chris. “You are suspended pending the outcome of an investigation into this matter.”
He looks at me in shock. “What investigation? You just agreed with me that this wasn’t abuse.”
I lean forward and point my finger at him. “The minute you told Tommy not to tell anyone and walked out on him, it became abuse.”
“No, no, he...it...it wasn’t like that. I...we...it wasn’t abuse. Tommy was willing. He even...it wasn’t abuse.”
I lose it. “How dare you? How dare you sit there and claim this wasn’t abuse? You let Tommy get you off, then you tell him not to say anything and you get up and leave him crying in the floor. How do you think he must have felt, Chris? Alone? Abandoned? Cheap, dirty, and ashamed of what had happened, that’s how he felt.”
Return to Innocence Page 2