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I vividly remember your pathetic wrinkles. Your cheeks always flushed as though you suffered from chronic red man syndrome. I was haunted every few years by your tilted, forced smile that seemed to always land in a permanent frown. Skin care was not your expertise huh? I was 10 years old. I couldn’t tell my mom because you were the reason our cabinets were fully stocked. I didn’t tell my dad because he was never around to see you to believe it. I should have told my sister even though she was only 4 but at least I would have told someone and my sister would eventually forget — hopefully.
We were the help to you. One of the few black families in our town and you took advantage of our “poverty”… Did you actually like helping the underserved community or were we just another family you preyed on? How many kids went through what you did to me or was I your first victim? We would have been fine without you to be quite honest. I know my mom only allowed the help because of her fear or coming up short.
It was only years later, I realized that what you did was sickening. Yes, I was uncomfortable but more so from embarassment of being the black kid seen with an old white man like a charity case. A man in his 70s grooming a ten year old is what I should have been embarrassed about. You begged my mom to take me shopping alone — and even when I said I didn't need anything, you INSISTED. I’m not sure why my mom…
