True Story - Allan Escaped the Pedophile

I have been hearing the conversations, but I was too young, and too inexperienced to understand what the adults were speaking of. Most of the subjects (people) of these conversations I was exposed to; were people I knew. I do not think a child, of so tender an age, is supposed to have such great memory and therefore remember, in such vivid details, remember the conversations he was exposed too, conversations he was too young to understand; but I do. 

I have often heard the adults in the room said, in making a judgment call base on my tender age: a being only a juvenile, he will not understand was always said in relations to me and they were right, I did not understand the context, or the essential of the conversations, but I did not forget the words that were spoken either. I remembered every detail of those conversations even today. 

I remember church members that came to ask my mother, to request that my father use his influence, to inhibit a particular course of actions against them, or a close family member. I remember political conversation and neighborhood gossip that went on in my father's shop; the random salacious gossip I was exposed to generally. 

However, I have been hearing this particular conversation, which I would later translate into rape of little boys, in the neighborhood; I knew some of the predators and others I did not know. However, what I did not know was what happened, what they were speaking about. I did not know what the words meant and therefore I could not make heads or tail of anything that was said; but I did not forgot. 

Growing up, one of the festivals we as a family participated in was: Nine Mornings. In the day my father operated his shop, but he worked somewhere up town at night, where and what he did, I did not know, I was too young to understand, to young too know and I was too young too care. However, Nine Mornings was an opportunity for my mother to wake up all of her children, to go to church to celebrate Nine Mornings, but before we went to church, we will visit daddy on the Job.

Whilst in church, Mother always sat at the window, in the back, on the northern side of the church, on the other side of the street was the Bermuda Biscuits Company. My father will pass by, to let her know he had finished working and he was on his way home. He will respectfully knock on the window, you will hear the disturbing whispers from my siblings mother its daddy, then he will make some sign and whisper his plans to her, she will give him some signs and whisper to him in return. 

Sometimes the older children will see our father through the windows walking north on Sharp Street on the eastern side of the church, they will then declare mother look daddy walking over there; pointing to the window on the Sharp Street side of the church. Mother always instructed us to pretend as if you did not see him and we all obeyed her.

For some strange reason, daddy knocking on the window and that conversation of whispers and impromptu sign language, meant something special to my mother. Mother also made a super hero of my father to all of her children; we delighted in him and his presence. I could remember whenever our father comes upstairs after closing the shop; it was Andrea and my opportunity to vie for the attention of our father. The older kids had all grown up and had handed down the tradition of doing trivial but comforting things for our father. 

We rushed over to our father after he had settled in to his position of comfort, in his favorite chair, after which, Andrea and I will tackle him, daddy do you want your foot rub? Do you want your hair comb? daddy there is a gray hair, will you like for me to pluck it out? And later pluck them out for you. After daddy's consent my sister and I went to work on our father. I enjoy doing these little things for my father. 

At this stage of my life still I had to be carried, and I was carried mostly by my mother, or my sister Charmaine or one of my other sisters though very young will often volunteered to carry me on their backs for a short while. However, Albert my eldest brother often lift me over his head and carry me while I sit on his shoulders, with my legs straggling his neck. 

On our way from Nine Morning church we will take in all of the actions of the Nine Morning festivals as well as checking out the Christmas display in the stores. There were three sure stop, the first was at the Juc-y Factory which was located on Granby Street. The Next stop was the Market to see what the vendor had to offer at a reasonable price, then we will stop by Mr. Robertson Bakery mostly to say hello to Mr. and Mrs Roberson. 

I looked forward to nine mornings, and I went to nine mornings every year of my life with my mother, until I was six years old. The Nine Mornings celebration of 1972, my mother was ill. By this time my sister Charmaine the adventurous one of the family, volunteer to take me nine mornings, when it was convenient to her of course. This was after making arrangement with her friends to meet. Mother will never send Charmaine to nine mornings on her own because she was a no-nonsense teenager, she was quick to fight and mother knew she will not fight, if I was present because I may get hurt. Let’s just say it happened before. 

I remembered very well one of the mornings, I asked Charmaine if we were going to nine mornings the following day and she said no. It was rear you hear her say no to something like that, however, she had no interest in going to Nine Mornings that morning. On hindsight I think she had just found out that Mother was terminally ill and was dying as a result lost all desire to do the things she loved to do. 

However, I got up early about 3:00 Am, I looked in the drawer and I put on some clothes, I remembered how Charmaine will open and lock the kitchen door, from inside and outside and I climb up and I open the door. And I was off to Nine Mornings. I got out of the house undetected, at lease so I thought. However, I was off to participate in nine mornings. 

I fearlessly walked around Back Street, unaware of the dangers that was lurking on the street. After all, we had done this many times before, and nothing bad ever happened; so what can go wrong? However, I never realized that the street was so lonely before around Nine Morning time. That was because when we were going to Nine Mornings, it was the whole family, my seven siblings and my mother. But this before dawn morning, it was Me and God alone and I mean that literally. it was a little scary but I had already invested and just a few blocks away their will be people.

When I reach to the bridge on Back Street next to the Sanitation Department, the North River Bridge I met a man, sitting on the Bridge, he had a new shiny 100 CCs Suzuki Motorcycle; I immediately knew where that motorcycle was purchased, I have seen those Motorcycles in Boise Bonadie; the toy store. 

The man whose name I later found out to be Mr. Millington; was the brother of Ms. Coral in the alley at Bottom Town. Mr. Millington was a supervisor at the Sanitation department and his name was often associated with the rapes of little boys in the neighborhood; rapes that went on reported because the parent of the victims did not want anyone to know what had happened. Although they did not want anyone to know about the pedophilia abuse of their sons, the new were always made public. This was one of the name I heard in the adult discussion but I did not know who Mr. Millington was, and still did not understood what the adults interest in him was. 

Mr. Millington became all excited when he saw me; it was the perfect situation, 3:00 O’clock in the morning, a little boy on the street unattended, there were no one around. This was a pedophile’s dream come true. The man said in a soft trusting voice, little boy come here, I walked over to the man confidently, but respectfully keeping my distance. I remember seeing my father having a conversation with the man one time. once the man came to my father shop to have a drink, my father had some serious words with him then he told him his business is not welcome here; the man hurriedly left my father's shop without a drink and he never return. 

The man continued in a soft trusting voice, he said little boy, do you like my bike, I said yes, after all it looked like a new bike just out of the store. Then he said who is your father, I said my father's name is Mr. Palmer, then he asked where does he live, I said we are living on Queen Street, in a blue house, my father has a shop downstairs. I answered, then he said little boy would you like a ride on my motor Bike, I said yes. The man said I am going to ride cross, the Street I am going to slow down and when I slow down, point out the house to me. 

I got onto the back of the bike, and he did as he said. He drove down to the cemetery made a U-Turn in the wide spot in front of the cemetery, and drove back to where he picked me up, he stopped the bike and he shushed me away with both hands in the same manner you chase away flies, or the same way a person will chase an unwelcome visitor out of their home. While he was shewing me away he uttered the words go on little boy go on! He wanted to get the rid of me and he wanted to get the rid of me as fast as possible. 

On my return home three hours later, my mother heard the tackling of the door; she came to meet me at the door, and did the honors. She let me know that she knew when and that I left the house. She further told me she did not stop me, because she will not always be there to watch over and protect me. My mother was very ill and had only recently discovered her illness was terminal: she had cancer and was in a tremendous amount of pain, she knew her time on this side of the earth was almost but done. 

However instead of stopping me from going on an adventure, that she could not control when she have depart this life; she did the thing she knew best. She continue: "As soon as, you left the house; I went down on her knees and prayed that God will send a mighty angels to keep me safe, while I were out there on your own; and I never got off of my knees or stop praying until, I hear the door being open." On hindsight, It must have been a tremendously difficult thing, for Mother to remain on her knees, for three long hours, fighting off the pain, in order to remain coherent enough; to plea her case, on my behalf to and with the Most High God.

I did not see what was the fuss, I did what we always do, I had fun and I was never in danger. I was two young to understand the serious danger I was in and I was not even aware of it. I was safe because, of my mother intervention. What is more powerful than a sorrowful parent on their knees interceding with God for a child? Thanks to my mother's prayer; the Most High put the fear of my father in that man, to the extent that the though of my father's wrath extinguished his sexual desire and he could not wait to get the rid of me.

A week or so later, I was in the Alley playing a game of marbles in Ms. Carol yard, with Colin Ms. Carol son, and other neighborhood kids. When Mr. Millington road into the yard with his bike. I was happy to see my friend, I did not know his name, So I greeted him Hay my friend.

My Greeting to Mr. Millington the pedophile cause carol to flip out. I heard her saying, to her brother, with a level of seriousness I have never heard from her before: I hope you did not interfere with Mr. Palmer's child you know! No no I did not trouble that child; the pedophile said. The fear instilled by the mighty angel that look over me, still troubled him.