I hesitate to tell you what happened next, but I received a message in my mind from somewhere outside my intuition. It was telepathic. It said, “Things are not what they appear to be.” That was all. “Things are not what they appear to be.” I was flooded with an overwhelming sense that I needed to be vigilant, that Joseph was in danger. The experience took my breath away.
I wanted nothing more to do with Marvin. I wanted to push him as far away from me as I could. Instead, I had just been “requested” to do the opposite. I felt I had to do what I could to protect Joseph; that I had to encourage his presence in my life. That persistent voice from somewhere outside of my mind was telling me to do what I could to protect someone else’s child. I had to try, but I was filled with dread.
I took this opportunity to have a discussion with the boys, the one about “telling” if someone ever tried to touch them on their “privates” without their permission, all the while tailoring the information so young boys could comprehend the danger. They promised me at that kitchen table, that not only would they tell, but that they would “beat the person up.” They showed me how, rushing around the kitchen demonstrating moves they’d learned from Power Rangers cartoons. I laughed, but made them promise they would tell.
Marvin was persistent. He called me often, checking on me and saying “you two must need a break from those three rambunctious boys. How about I babysit them for a couple of days. Joseph would enjoy their company.”
I told him we never felt the need for a babysitter that the children weren’t with us very often so our time together as a family was important. Marvin never gave up asking, reminding me he wanted my boys to spend the weekend “for Joseph’s sake”.
Instead, I invited Joseph to come over to our place to play with the boys, sometimes for the weekend. At first, Marvin declined the offer. He didn’t want to leave Joseph alone with anyone for fear that he would tell. However, one day he agreed to let Joseph come spend the night. He allowed this twice. Both times he called and spoke at length to Joseph. I can only assume he was making sure that Joseph would not tell.
Now when Marvin would call, I would intentionally guide him off the subject of himself, and onto Joseph. I had to be careful to limit my questions by picking and choosing which ones appeared to need my additional attention; the ones where "red flags" would wave. And the questions themselves had to be hidden in the discussion, as if I weren't questioning at all but just making conversation, all the while weaving the subject I wanted to know more about into its mix. It was critically important that he not become suspicious of me for fear this would cause him to become either guarded or cut me off all together. I had to play dumb, to appear non-threatening to his activities. Joseph depended on me to perfect this personal dance that was so delicate between his adoptive father and myself. This was so important and so fragile that it frightened me, and I wasn't up against any normal human being, I was up against a cunning monster. I knew the consequences that even one slight misstep on my part meant for his victims. Two could play at this manipulation game. Mine a force for good, his a force for evil. So I continued to encourage conversation with the Devil.
During the course of one of our telephone talks, he told me that he’d borrowed $35,000 from the bank so he could install an in-ground pool in his back yard for Joseph. I wondered aloud if there was room. Marvin assured me it would fit. It left no room for Joseph to play, but Marvin felt it would improve Joseph’s social contacts. He was designing the devil’s playground. And that’s what it became.
Marvin had become “Mr. Fun”. He proclaimed this aloud in front of the children. He would allow them to do anything they wanted while they were at his house. He even encouraged them to watch pornographic movies on the television in his family room. He plied the older boys with alcohol and marijuana. He was getting bolder, and he was taking chances. He was nearly caught several times. One time a boy told his parents he smelled pot at Marvin’s house. Another time a mother found a joint in her son’s pocket. Another boy, younger, told his mother he wanted to direct porno films when he grew up.
The underwater groping under the guise of “Marco Polo” became endemic. Marvin always claimed he couldn’t see underwater, or, “you moved. I didn’t mean to touch you there.” But Marvin wanted even more. He infiltrated Joseph's school, and volunteered to coach basketball.
Marvin had never played a game of basketball. He didn’t even know the rules. This didn’t pose a problem. He looked up what he needed, and became the after-school basketball coach. The boys looked up to him and respected him; they called him coach. And of course these boys would get sleepover invitations to Marvin’s house along with all the others.
Conveniently, the shower-head nozzle In Joseph’s bathroom quit working. Marvin told Joseph that he and any overnight guests would have to shower in Marvin’s bathroom, a bathroom that adjoined the master bedroom. He walked in on whoever was using the shower, never apologized, but always found a reason to linger. Many of the boys complained to Joseph, and told him it was weird. What they didn’t know was that Marvin had installed a video camera that filmed the naked boys while they were showering. He replayed these films for his twisted viewing pleasure on the rare nights he was alone.
After spending the night with Joseph, a 10 year old boy named Stuart told his mother that Joseph’s dad had “touched” him. Marvin’s explanation to this single mother was that he was helping Stuart apply medicated cream to his jock itch. He then seduced her to silence her suspicions.
An 11 year old boy Curtis told his mother that Joseph’s dad had “touched his wiener”. Marvin’s explanation was that they were cooking hot dogs on the grill and the joke related to that. He said it was all a misunderstanding. Curtis refused to discuss this incident again, not with his friends, not with his parents, and not later with the authorities. He didn’t deny it happened. He just refused to discuss it or acknowledge that it happened. He wanted it to go away.
Marvin gained access to my stepchildren through their biological mother. Joseph called her and asked if the boys could spend the weekend at his house. She was reluctant, since she had never met Joseph’s father. Marvin got on the phone and persuaded her. He told her he had bought season passes to a well-known amusement park in the area, he would take them there, if not this weekend, any time they wanted. He said that he would pick them up and bring them home on Sunday. What time they spent at his house, they could play in his swimming pool. He added that he would supervise them responsibly. He had by-passed me and gained access to my children. That weekend, he sexually molested them. It was my fault! My fault! As they had promised me they would, they told their mother and she called me.
After the phone call had ended, I picked myself up, put on my shoes and my “war face”. My husband asked me where I was going, I replied “I'm going over there to kill Marvin, to snap his neck with my bare hands, or die trying. And then I'm taking Joseph.” My husband stopped me. He made me promise to let the authorities handle it. And that they would rescue Joseph as soon as we filed charges against Marvin. We both agreed at this time that we would tell the authorities that we would care for Joseph from this point forward, not to return him to the foster home. That we desired and would request to be his family. We briefly discussed the problem, then informed Child Protective Services. New charges were filed within the next forty-five minutes.