Return to Innocence

by G. M. Frazier

  “And did you still think that Glen wanted to have sex with you?”

  “I didn’t know what to think. No one had ever treated me that way. I knew I didn’t want to leave. I got undressed and took a shower. I was drying off when Bill Tyne knocked on the door. Up until then I was starting to feel like a normal boy again. Bill spoiled it. He reminded me of what I was. But the idea of having sex with him after being with Glen disgusted me. I told him to get out or I’d call the cops.”

  “And you did tell him you were spending the night with Dr. Erskine?”

  “Yes, I told him that. But I never said I was going to have sex with Glen.”

  “What happened after Mr. Tyne left?”

  “I got dressed and waited for Glen. He came back about thirty minutes later...” David drifts off with tears in his eyes. And I think back to the look on his face when I walked in the room that night. The look of a boy—not a boy prostitute—completely captured by the joy and wonder that only a child can know at Christmas. I’ll never forget it.

  “What happened when Dr. Erskine returned, David?”

  “He opened the door and yelled, MERRY CHRISTMAS! I couldn’t believe it. He had Santa Claus with him.” David laughs.

  “Santa Claus?”

  “Yeah. I knew it was the Salvation Army guy from out in front of the hotel. I had talked with him earlier when I got there. But Glen had him come up with all these presents under his arm. He put all the presents on the bed and told me to have fun. And I did. I opened them as fast as I could.”

  “What’d you get?”

  “A new coat. A couple of shirts and jeans. Socks. Underwear. A new pair of sneakers. Some games. And a tape player and tapes. We listened to Bach and Mozart and Beethoven and Vivaldi. We talked. We played battleship. We played cards. We—”

  “No strip poker?”

  David laughs and, surprisingly, so does most everyone else in the courtroom. “No strip poker,” he says.

  “Did you get anything else?”

  “Yes.” David reaches in his coat pocket and removes the key I gave him that night. “This,” he says and holds it up.

  “A key?” Jim says.

  “A key, Mr. Aiken. A very special key. Glen opened my hand and put this key in it. And then he asked me what I held in my hand. I said a key. He said no, not just a key. The key to my future. He said if I wanted to leave the streets this key would let me do it.” David laughs again.

  “What’s funny about the key?” Jim asks.

  “It’s what I said to Glen. I asked him if it was a magic key. He said no, it was the key to room number nine at a Catholic home for boys in Manhattan. He said he had already spoken to Father Lambert, who ran the place, about me. And I was welcome. Glen told me it would mean going back to school and working hard to catch up with the other kids. But he knew I could do it if I wanted to. That I would never have to sell myself to men again if I didn’t want to. The key to my future was in my hands, he told me.”

  “Did you spend the night with Dr. Erskine, David?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have sex with him?”

  “No.”

  “And the next morning?”

  “After breakfast, he took me to the boys home. And from that day, I never walked the streets again.”

  “And you never saw Dr. Erskine again, did you?”

  “No. He gave me his business card and told me that if I wrote to him, he would write back. But I never did. But I never forgot you, Glen,” he says to me.

  “Likewise,” I say. Moultrie starts to stand, to object, no doubt, but he doesn’t.

  “You have a family now, David?”

  “Yes, I’ve been married for a little over five years.”

  “Any children?”

  “Two. My son is four and my daughter is two and a half.”

  “What are their names?”

  “My little girl is named Christine.” David looks at me. “My son is named Glen. Glen Michael Fain.”

  The tears well up in my eyes and I wipe them away with my fingers. Jim extends his hand and David shakes it. “I want to thank you for testifying, David. I’m sure Dr. Erskine appreciates it, too.” Jim looks up at the judge. “I have nothing further, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Moultrie?” the judge says.

  Moultrie stands. “No questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Fain, you are excused. Thank you. Mr. Aiken, you may call your next witness.”

  Jim is back over at our table. He looks sternly at me. “Listen Glen, follow my lead, okay? Try to remember what we talked about when we went over your testimony last night. We’ve got to give the jury someone to blame. Use your head when I ask you questions. Answer truthfully, but don’t tell me anymore than I ask for. Don’t tell me too much. Got it?”

  “I guess,” I answer.

  “Mr. Aiken, do you want a recess to confer with your client?” the judge asks.

  Jim stands. “No, Your Honor. The defense calls Glen Michael Erskine.”

  I rise and button my suit jacket. David is standing at our table now. I shake his hand. “I want to see you before you leave Charleston,” I say to him.

  He nods and I head for the witness stand.

  Chapter 19

  The Truth

  I have just sworn to tell the truth. I try to look composed and confident as I cross my legs and pinch the crease of my trouser leg. I glance at the jury and wonder what they are thinking. I can’t read their faces.

  Jim finally disclosed to me last night what his ultimate strategy has been all along. I, of course, had gathered from the start that we would be trying to point the finger at someone else, “give the jury someone else to blame,” as Jim said. But if my testimony goes as Jim has planned it—scripted it, almost—then this should work. That is what I am praying now as Jim prepares to question me.

  “Please state your name for the record and spell your last name,” Jim says. I have heard this requested of every witness and I guess this will be the last time I hear it.

  “Glen Michael Erskine, E-R-S-K-I-N-E. And the Glen has one ‘n.’”

  “Dr. Erskine, tell us a little about yourself. You are married?”

  “Yes, I’ve been married for almost fifteen years.”

  “Children?”

  “Yes, two boys. Peter will be thirteen in May and Benjamin turned five last October.”

  “And what about your profession?”

  “Up until last November I was the director and chief of staff at New Horizons. I had held that position for ten years. Before that I taught psychology at the University of Pennsylvania.”

  “Not just psychology, though, Dr. Erskine. What is your specialty?”

  “I have a clinical doctorate in the treatment of sex abuse victims. My Doctor of Philosophy degree is in developmental psychology—specifically, male adolescent sexuality.”

  “Did you have to do a lot of research for your Ph.D.?”

  “Yes, of course. I spent the better part of three years on the research and a year to write the dissertation.”

  “The solicitor has made a lot out of the fact that your name appears on the FBI list of suspected pedophiles. Are you a member of any pedophile organizations?”

  “No, I am not. I did at one time subscribe to their publications when I was doing my research. That is probably how my name got on that list.”

  “What about Tommy’s story?” Jim asks. “Did he spend the last weekend in October of last year in your home?”

  “He did.”

  “And the reason?”

  “Chris Manning, his counselor, asked me to take him for the weekend because Chris’ wife couldn’t handle it. She was eight months pregnant.”

  “And the incident with the baby-sitter? That happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you talked with Tommy about it?”

  “Yes, we talked and I told him I was taking him out of Home Time because of what he had done.”

  “What bothered you about that in
cident, Dr. Erskine?”

  “It was a marked regression for Tommy.”

  “A marked regression. Please explain what that means.”

  “Tommy had been with us for a little over three months. In that time, Chris Manning, his counselor, and I had worked closely with him. In the beginning, he exhibited quite a bit of sexual acting out. But after—”

  “Let me stop you there, Dr. Erskine. Why did Tommy exhibit quite a bit of sexual acting out?”

  “Because he had been sexually and physically abused from a very young age. He was beaten, burned, and raped repeatedly over the course of his childhood. When he came to New Horizons his view of human sexuality was completely pathological. He had no concept of intimacy without sex. And no concept of sex without violence. Love was an unknown to him. Chris and I worked hard to change that.”

  “So, you and Tommy’s counselor had success in curing this sexual acting out?”

  “Yes, we did. After the first month the incidents began to subside. But the sudden regression that night with our baby-sitter concerned me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew something had to have happened to trigger it.”

  “Something like what?”

  “In the case of a boy who has been sexually abused, a new incidence of abuse can trigger the sort of acting out Tommy displayed.”

  “So you were concerned that perhaps something had happened to Tommy? That he had been sexually abused?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ask him about it then?”

  “No, I decided to wait and talk with his counselor about it.”

  Jim looks at me and gives an almost imperceptible smile, indicating, I think, that we are right on track. “Dr. Erskine, did you go to Tommy’s room that night in your home after he had gone to bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “My oldest son, Peter, came downstairs and told me that Tommy had waked him. Tommy was crying. I went up to see what was wrong with him.”

  “And what was wrong?”

  “He was upset because I was taking him out of Home Time. We talked some more about it. I told him it was the rules.”

  “Did you get in the bed with Tommy?”

  “No. I sat on the edge of the bed.”

  “Did you do any of the things that he has accused you of doing to him that night in his bed?”

  I hesitate and think about my response. Jim and I planned this one for Moultrie. “Yes,” I answer.

  The courtroom erupts. The judge is banging her gavel. And Moultrie smiles, taking the bait. Jim spins on his heels and looks at me. “Please explain your answer, Dr. Erskine,” he says.

  “I did kiss Tommy...after he fell asleep. I kissed him on the forehead. But there is no way he could have known that. He was asleep.” I glance over at the jury. One of the ladies in the back smiles at me. And Moultrie’s smile is gone. I’m tempted to wink at him, but don’t.

  “Did anything happen before he fell asleep to increase your suspicion that Tommy had been abused?”

  “Yes. Tommy attempted to engage me in sexual activity.”

  “In what way?”

  “He put his hand on my crotch.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “I moved his hand and let him know I wasn’t interested.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “I stayed with Tommy until he fell asleep.”

  “He fell asleep. So, nothing of a sexual nature happened between you and Tommy that night in your home?”

  “Other than Tommy’s advance, nothing.”

  “What happened the next morning, Dr. Erskine?”

  “I met with Tommy’s counselor to discuss the situation with Tommy. The two of us got in a heated debate over it.”

  “Was it over your suspicion that Tommy had been abused?”

  “Yes, we argued about Tommy’s abuse,” I answer. “Chris Manning, Tommy’s counselor, knew that Tommy had been abused.”

  “Did he know who had done it?”

  “Yes, he knew.”

  “And he told you who had done it?”

  “He did.”

  “And what was the point of contention in your argument?”

  “Chris didn’t want me to report the incident to Children and Youth Services.”

  “And you wanted to?”

  “Initially, I did, but I later changed my mind. Tommy had become involved with a close friend at New Horizons—an older friend,” I say. We’re walking a fine line here, but this is the truth.

  “But this wasn’t really a case of molestation at all was it, Dr. Erskine? Tommy and his friend became involved...sexually.”

  “That is correct,” I answer and look at Tommy. “The abusive part was in how Tommy’s friend made him feel about what they had done. For Tommy, it was an expression of love, but his friend made him feel like what they had done was dirty and shameful. The result was Tommy’s perspective shifted, almost back to the stage he was at when he first came to New Horizons. Hence, the acting out at my house.”

  “And your visit to Tommy’s school that morning?”

  “Was to talk with Tommy about it. To tell him I knew; that Chris had told me what had happened. I told him I would have to keep his friend from seeing him until we could get his issues resolved. He begged me not to do that. I told him it had to be that way. And that’s when he ran from the restroom and screamed that he hated me.”

  “Nothing sexual happened in the restroom at his school, then?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Dr. Erskine, why didn’t you tell what you knew once Tommy accused you of abusing him?”

  “Because I told Tommy the night that I went to his room at New Horizons that I had reconsidered and would not report what had happened between him and his friend. I felt that we could work this out. I had talked with Tommy’s friend and he understood what he had done wrong. This was the first such sexual experience for him.”

  “And that’s the secret that Curtis Sloan overheard you talking with Tommy about in his room that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “And nothing of a sexual nature happened between you and Tommy in his room that night at New Horizons?”

  “Nothing.”

  Jim starts to ask something else, but doesn’t. He pats the rail in front of me and looks up at the judge. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Moultrie,” Judge Booker says, “you may cross-examine the witness.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” I watch as Moultrie stands and buttons his jacket. “Dr. Erskine, are you telling us that you have known all along that this boy,” Moultrie turns and points to Tommy, “was sexually abused by someone at New Horizons?”

  “No. I’ve known all along that Tommy had a sexual encounter with a friend at New Horizons. That is what I am telling you. I don’t think Tommy thinks it was abuse…and neither do I.”

  “If that is true, then why haven’t you told anyone before now? Why have you allowed yourself to be brought to trial if this is simply a false accusation?”

  I shift in the chair, look at the jury, then at the solicitor. “Mr. Moultrie, I don’t expect you to understand why I did what I did. God knows, you certainly don’t understand anything else about me or my work. But if you ask the people connected with New Horizons why I ever did anything there, they will tell you one thing: For the boys. I promised Tommy, and I promised his friend, that I would not report them. I did it for them.”

  “You’ve allowed yourself to be put through all this because of a promise?” Moultrie sounds incredulous.

  I glance at Tommy. I have seen that look on his face before. His lip is trembling. He’s about to cry. The plan is coming together.

  “Like I said, Mr. Moultrie, I don’t expect you to understand. Tommy and his friend were very close. Tommy begged me not to report what they had done because he knew if I did, they would be separated and never see each other again. I finally agreed not to report them. And I told To
mmy I wouldn’t. I had planned to work with him and his friend so we could reach an appropriate resolution to the matter. But we never got the chance.”

  “And why do you suppose he decided to accuse you of molesting him?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”

  “Oh, we did ask him, Dr. Erskine. We asked him right here in this courtroom. He sat right where you are sitting and told us what you did to him. That’s why he’s accusing you. Because you did it.”

  “Objection, Your Honor. The solicitor isn’t asking a question, he’s testifying.”

  “Sustained, Mr. Aiken. Move on, Mr. Moultrie.”

  Moultrie starts to ask me another question, but is distracted by the loud sobs coming from the prosecution table. Tommy is crying now. Moultrie walks over and says something to him.

  “Mr. Moultrie,” the judge says, “do you have any further questions for this witness?”

  Moultrie turns and looks first at me and then the judge. He actually looks bewildered. “No, Your Honor, that’s all.”

  Moultrie retakes his seat beside Tommy, who is still crying loudly. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, but Tommy shrugs it off.

  “Dr. Erskine, you may step down. Mr. Aiken, do you any other witnesses?”

  Jim stands. “No, Your Honor, the defense rests.”

  “Very well—”

  As I walk by the prosecution table, Tommy jumps from his seat and throws his arms around me. “I’m sorry, Glen,” he says through the tears.

  I put my arms around him and hug him tightly. “It’s okay, Tommy. It’s okay,” I tell him. He is sobbing loudly into my breast. Moultrie steps over to us and looks me in the eye. And for the first time I see doubt in the man’s face.

  The plan has worked.

  “Come on, Tommy,” he says and pulls the boy off of me.

  I straighten my tie and resume my seat beside Jim. A quick glance over at the jury reveals twelve sympathetic faces. I look at Jim.

  “We got him,” he says with a smile. “We got him.”

  “Mr. Moultrie,” the judge says, “Anything?”

  “No, your honor.”

  “Very well, we’ll hear closing arguments in the morning. We are adjourned until 9 A.M. tomorrow.”

  Jim is driving me home to Mount Pleasant. Suzanne took the Suburban to pick up the boys from school. I spoke briefly with David Fain before we left and gave him directions to our house. He said he would stop by later on his way to the airport. His plane is scheduled to leave at nine o’clock tonight.