Spitting in the Face of the Devil

Hey folks, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison, and every Thursday we release these special episodes where we look back at content from the earlier years of the podcast. This year, while we're doing a huge fundraising effort to keep the series from having to end our run, we're doing something especially special. On many of the upcoming Thursdays, I'd like to rerun some of the all-time classic Risk Stories.

This is our way of asking you, where else can you get such extraordinary content as this? Our way of reminding you that we need your help to keep this irreplaceable institution alive and well. But we're also featuring conversations with the storytellers about these all-time classics. Today, we have Spitting in the Face of the Devil by Bob Brader.

Now I have to warn you, this story concerns child abuse, physical, emotional, and sexual. For the occasion of rerunning it this week, we recorded a conversation between Bob and the therapist, Mariana Voigt, that we just posted over at patreon.com slash risk. Mariana is a drama and movement therapist, and she and Bob dug into the psychological aspects involved in Bob's having shared this extraordinary story. Here's a little bit of what that sounds like.

The very first time I went to therapy, I finally got insurance through this one job I had, and I was very excited because I was going to be able to go to therapy because I was like anything to help, whatever. And so, I went to a therapist and it was this older lady. She had white hair and a leather mini skirt. And she took me into her office and I started talking to her about my story.

And we got through a bunch of it and she said, oh, well, your father's a sociopath. And I was enraged. And I screamed at her. I was like, who are you to say that about my father?

And I left and I stormed out. And I got about three blocks away and I stopped and I went, oh my God. I just defended him. Wow.

And I walked back to her office and I apologized and I said, I'm sorry because I really laid into her. And I saw her, you know, I went back and saw her for a couple months and then lost that job so the insurance ran out. But that's something that it's so hard to criticize your parents if you haven't, I think, done quite a bit of work. I think it sounds like that was a very powerful session.

But I would also say in like session number one, maybe be a little bit more careful about calling people's parents sociopaths because that is so hard. So after you hear the story here, be sure to get on over to patreon.com slash risk to find our post there this week of Bob Brader and Mariana Voigt discussing the story you're about to hear. So without further ado, here is Bob Brader with a story we call Spitting in the Face of the Devil. I was at work one day, I was working as a temp and my cousin called me, my cousin April on my father's side.

She said, I have some really bad news. Your father died. And I was like, yeah, I felt nothing. It was a total numbness.

I'm kind of waiting for it to hit me, you know, and that was kind of my thought. It's like, pretty soon I'm going to be on the floor crying and it's going to hit me and I'm because this is my father. I got home and I called my sister and I said, Tammy, look, I have to tell you dad died. And she said, wow, I don't really feel anything about that.

And I was like, no, I don't understand that. I was like, I'm supposed to feel something. Aren't I supposed to feel something about that? And she was like, yeah, I know, but I don't either.

And then I called my mom and I said, mom, dad died. And she was like, oh, she started crying. And I felt for my mom, but I didn't feel anything for him. I didn't go to the funeral at all.

My mom and sister went and they both told me that they had to go to the viewing just because they wanted to make sure that he was dead. But I had said goodbye to him so many years ago. And in my opinion, I kind of honored him by not going. I was born in Allentown, Pennsylvania and we moved to Whitehall, Pennsylvania.

It was all in the same kind of general area. It's a very small town. Everybody kind of knew everybody's business. My dad was like Tony Soprano.

He was big like Tony Soprano. One minute, he was joking and having a good time and laughing with you. And the next minute, he was angry and furious and the rage would just come right out of him. I remember one time I was playing outside and I was playing in water and stuff like that.

And he told me that I needed to stop playing in the water. And then I just plopped into the water and I was laughing. And he looked at me and he laughed. But then something happened and he got really angry.

And he came over and was like, what are you doing? Why are you getting all wet? What is going on? And I got up and I thought we were playing.

And I started running around the lawn and he started running after me. And then he grabbed me. He yanked my pants down and spanked me right there on the lawn. Really, really hard.

And then I was just laying on the lawn and crying my eyes out. And this was on a beautiful summer day in front of all the neighbors. Because my father never cared. I mean, when that anger would come, he would just come out.

And I was usually the brunt of that anger. When I was about first grade, I think it was probably around then I started wetting the bed. My mom decided it was time to take me to the doctor after it started happening more regularly. And the doctor didn't even examine me.

He just looked at my mom and said, well, there's two reasons for your son's bed wetting. I see this all the time. It's either because he's too afraid to get out of bed. So he should probably put a nightlight in his room.

Or he's too lazy to get out of bed. And my father, after hearing that, kind of decided that this was not going to happen again. So he started a morning ritual. He would get up around 5.30 in the morning.

And he would come in to my room to see if I was wet. He'd leave my light off so I didn't wake up. He would shower. He would get dressed and ready to go.

If I was wet, he would come into my room. He would use the shower time and the getting dressed time in order to build his anger. Because when he came in, he was furious. He would take off his belt and fold it in half.

He would turn on my light. And he'd proceed to wake me by smacking me on the lower back. The ass and the lower leg. He would hold me down by placing his hand in my back or the back of my neck.

And forcing my face into the pillow. I think it would yell, telling me how lazy I am. And asking me if I enjoyed sleeping in piss. And then he would leave for work.

I used to go to sleep at night and like pray that I would wake up dry. And wondering why I couldn't stop it. And this went on for years and years. Sometimes the welts on my ass would bleed.

I remember being in fourth grade once. And not being able to really sit down. I stood by my desk. We were doing something in class and the teacher was like, please sit down.

And I was like, I will. I will in a minute. And I just stood there because it hurt too much to sit. I specifically remember a one incident where my father used to check to see if I was wet by putting his hand directly under my crotch, under my groin.

And I remember kind of waking up and feeling this hand on me. And then the hand immediately pulling away. And I was like, oh, I think my dad just checked to see if I was wet. And then I realized I was wet.

And my whole entire body froze because I knew exactly what was coming. I remember thinking if maybe if I can get up, I can run into my mom's room and maybe I won't get hit. And I could hear him taking a shower. I could feel my muscles aching to move and couldn't.

He came into the room and I heard his belt whip from around his waist. And I felt that first whack. It was like a flash. And then able to move everything.

And everything came to life at that one moment. And I was able to scream and cry and kind of let it all out. I remember feeling like I deserved it. Absolutely believing it was my fault.

My grandparents, my mom and Pat, I remember them a couple times seeing the welts and constantly saying, you know, the next time this happens, I'm going to have a talk with your father. If anyone ever said anything to him about the abuse or anything like that, he would always say, don't tell me how to raise my kids. I don't tell you how to raise your kids. Don't tell me how to raise my kids.

And everybody let it go. And my mom was so petrified of my father. My grandfather was a drinker and he was a bit abusive to my uncle and they had a tumultuous relationship when they were growing up. So when my father would do the things that he did, she just believed that that is the way fathers and sons are.

My mom quit school in the eighth grade and started working. So my mom didn't have a lot of education. But I think one of the reasons why I am still alive today is because of her love and support. She was the light.

Whenever these bouts of anger and rage would happen. My mom would come in and she would be there for me and she would care for me and hold me. It was us together. It was never like the three of us as a family unit.

It was my mom and I surviving with him. My mom is the one who actually saved me from the ritualistic beatings. When my father oversleeps for work and I'm wet in the morning, I won't get a beating then. After he gets home from work, then I'll get beat.

So it would be like all day you're waiting and anticipating the fact that you knew you were wet that morning and you know what's coming as soon as you get home. I knew that that's what was happening on that particular day. So after dinner, he said, I know you were wet this morning and he took off his belt. And my mom jumped in front of me and she was like, I'm taking him to see a doctor.

I'm taking him to see a real doctor. I want to get this straightened out. I want to find out if he has a real problem or not. And my father, who hates when anyone stood up to him in any way, shape or form, let it go.

Because he had to get ready to go. He goes to bingo like three, four times a week. And it was a bingo night for him and he dropped it. Because he was absolutely sure that we were going to go to this doctor and that we were going to find out that there was nothing wrong with me and that I was just lazy.

So I went to this doctor. They brought out these little instruments. They were like candy canes. They were all these different sizes.

He came in. He was just this big guy. And he put lubricant all over the head of my penis. And he took one of those small little candy canes and he plunged it inside my penis.

And I remember screaming so loudly. The people in the parking lot outside, I'm quite positive, heard me. But he believed that I had an infection in there, which was causing my tubes to open and close at random times. So they put me on antibiotics and he told me I had to come in and see them every two weeks in order for everything to stay open.

I mean, I wasn't thrilled about going to see him every two weeks, but at least I started realizing it wasn't my fault. And my father was angry at the fact that there was something wrong with me because he hated to be wrong. And he was so annoyed that A, that first doctor lied to him and B, that there was something wrong with me. And I didn't really tell anybody because that was my fault.

I should have been more expressive about the fact that there was something wrong with me. Later on, we were playing cards over, my family used to get together a lot and play cards over at his brother's place. My father told them that he was the one who took me to the doctor and that he was there while they did this horrible thing to his son. And how terrible it was, but how he stood by me and was there for me.

He got like this little thrill from all these little heights that he told all of these different people. But I mean, if you say anything like, well, that never happened. I mean, that's like asking for it. You just don't do that.

When I was in fourth grade, I found out about this spring fling, which was a talent show. My fourth grade teacher said to me, well, you should go and you should do it. And I was like, well, what do I do? And she was like, well, you do your impressions.

I used to do impressions of different people. I don't even consider it like a talent. It was just something that I could do. I went home and I talked to my mom about it.

She was like, well, you should do that. I mean, why not? I always think your stuff is funny. So go, go, do it.

So I ran up and I started practicing and started working on some kind of routine that I would put together. While I was doing that, my father came up into my room. There were no locked doors in my household. Doors always had to be left open.

He was like, what are you doing? I hope that when you get up there on stage that you're better than what you were just doing there because that was terrible. You were really terrible. You're not really going to do this, are you?

You're going to make a fool out of yourself. You go up there and do that. Just forget about it. Don't do it because you're really bad.

I was like, maybe I shouldn't do it. Maybe I shouldn't. I went to school the next day and threw encouragement and everything like that. I put my name on the list and I was practicing again.

And he came in and he was like, I was listening to it and I was embarrassed for you. People are going to laugh at you. They're going to mock you. Don't do it.

The next day I was like, maybe I should take my name off the list. I shouldn't do this because I don't want to embarrass myself. I don't want to embarrass my family. When I got down towards the gym, there was this gigantic sign and everybody's name listed.

And mine was the last name on it. And I was like, oh, my God. How can I back out now? I mean, there's my name in big letters.

I can't back out of it. I was so freaked out. I ran home to my mom and after school that day. And I just started bawling and I was like, I'm not good enough.

And people are going to mock me and make fun of me. And my mom just looked at me and she was like, Bobby, what are you talking about? She's like, I've always been so proud of what you do. You can't worry about the people who aren't going to like what you do.

You have to do it for the people that are going to love what you can do. And then the show was huge. I mean, the auditorium was packed. I had never seen it so full and I started to feel excited about going out there.

And then they called my name and I went out and they started laughing at what I was doing. I cannot describe the high that that was. I'd never had people like a large group of people like hearing that big laugh before and being totally intoxicated by it. And I remember being almost all the way through the routine and I looked down at my mom and she gave me a big thumbs up sign.

That right there was like everything. I finished my routine and the audience was like cheering and cheering. And I had friends of mine who were up in the balcony and they stood up and they started stomping their feet. They were chanting my name.

And it was such a magical moment for me. I knew right then that being an actor is what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I also knew that my father was wrong. What I did was good.

People did appreciate it. But my father also had a jealousy streak. He hated any kind of attention that anybody would get other than him. So shortly after the show, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and he came by and told me I wasn't brushing properly.

And he came behind me and he grabbed my forehead, pulled my head back, and he scrubbed my teeth and gums with my toothbrush. My gums bled for three days. I remember not being able to eat anything, especially anything with salt or anything like that for a few days because it just burned. But he would do things like that whenever he was jealous.

Three dogs growing up at different times. Blackjack was my mom's dog. She loved that dog. And after a little while, my father was jealous of the dog.

So he took the dog, put it in his car, took it out on the freeway and let it go. He did the same thing with Blackjack too. We had it for a little while and then he would feel that people were paying too much attention to the dog and not enough to him. So he took it out on the highway and let it go.

And he did the same thing with pal. I didn't want to be responsible for another animal being left out on the highway, so we stopped getting pets after that. The total opposite story of that is when my sister was born. My father told my mother when she found out she was pregnant, my father told her to get rid of the baby.

He was like, you are not having this child. If you have it, I'm leaving. And my mom was totally distraught. She had no idea what to do.

And she came to me and she was like, maybe your father and I should split up. And maybe this is the best thing. I was spending a lot of time over at my grandparents' place. And I remember my grandmother saying to me, well, if your parents get divorced, you realize they're going to send you away.

And I was like, what do you mean? And she was like, well, that's what happens to children whose parents get divorced and they send them away. And I was petrified. I was like, I don't want to leave my family.

And she was like, well, then I hope they don't get divorced. And when my mom asked me about it again, I was like, I don't want to leave. Please, let's work this out. Because I was totally afraid that I'd be taken away from my mom.

And my mom was, you know, kind of my world. So my mom had a dream that she gave birth to a little girl and named her Tammy Marie Breeder. She felt that this birth was a gift, a gift from God. So there was no way she was going to have an abortion.

And my father was furious. And he yelled and screamed. But nothing was ever done. And then my sister was born.

She was so adorable. I was in love with this little baby that was then held in my arms at ten years old. The only thing I thought the whole entire time I was holding her was I will never let him hurt her the way that he hurts me. I will do everything I can to prevent that.

My sister and my father had the complete opposite relationship of him and I. This baby that he fought so hard to get rid of became the apple of his eye. I mean, he loved her, doted on her, did everything that he could for her. It was a total and complete reversal.

And I'm not sure why. And I didn't even really care. Because my sister was being taken care of and that was the most important thing. I was in fifth grade and Mrs.

Shearer was having this what she called a winter celebration show. And we were all dressed in leather jackets and white t-shirts and jeans and we were singing grease songs and everything like that. You know, it's like all these fifties songs. Towards the end of the presentation, Mrs.

Shearer said, I want to introduce one of my kids who has made me laugh like a hundred times. And he has no idea I'm going to do this. Bob, come on up here and do some of your act. I nearly fell on the floor.

I was so nervous. And I remember shaking a little bit and I walked up front and I started doing my routine like I had at the spring fling. And again, people were laughing and that euphoria of hearing those laughs was so intoxicating and wonderful. The only major difference that night was that I saw my father standing at the back of the room.

He wasn't really laughing. He had his arms folded and he was standing around watching everyone else react to what I was doing. When I got home that night, my father looked at me and said, you know, I know you're all happy. And you think you did a good job.

But I'm going to be honest with you. It's something that I see that no one wants to do. You were terrible. You just don't have what it takes.

And he looked at me right in the eye and he said, I was hoping to see something in you that I could be proud of. Instead, I saw you jumping around like a goofball. Way to go. And you know, I couldn't help but think that maybe he was right.

Maybe it wasn't that good. Maybe people were laughing at me instead of with me. And so I kind of didn't want to do my impressions like that again. I was in fifth grade when I met David.

I remember him being one of the first people I ever saw with feathered hair. More like all of the new kind of clothing. Listen to all the new music. And I liked him.

I invited him over to my place for dinner. I never really did that ever. I knew that when people met my father that they loved him. And because of that, I never really wanted to bring people around him.

Because I got tired of people saying, boy, I wish my father was your father. And I was like, you really have no idea what he's like. Everybody thought that this guy that they saw who's so funny and personable when he was out with other people. That's who he really was.

I was also like a really neat kid. I was very meticulous about how everything was in my room. When people came over, sometimes they would touch things and move things and things wouldn't be in their place. And I didn't like that.

So in order for me to bring someone over was a big deal to me. When David came over for dinner, David and my father were like instantly friends. See David was growing up without a father. And my dad grew up without a father.

And I think he wanted to be there for David in a way that no one was ever there for my father. They started doing things together. They would go fishing. I have no interest in fishing.

So I didn't go. But my father loved to fish so him and David went together. They went everywhere together. He got interested in how David was doing in school.

I didn't really care about this extra attention that David was getting because my experience with my father was when he was spending time with something else. That's good time. He left me alone. And I liked that.

People used to think that I was David. And they used to call David his son. And I was quite content not to be a part of that whole entire thing. David was sleeping over one night and I was about half asleep.

And I heard my door creak open. And I heard someone walking up my stairs. And I remember opening my eyes just a little bit. And I saw this thing standing at the top of my stairs.

It was like a glowed white. And I remember thinking it is this creature. And it's going to attack me. You have that half sleep logic going on that this is something that is foreign.

And I don't know what it is. But it's obviously here to hurt me. My whole body is stiffened. I just stayed frozen for a very long time.

And when I opened my eyes again, it was gone. The next night I went downstairs and I took a knife from the kitchen. And I put it under my pillow. I remember thinking that, okay, if the creature in white comes again, I can grab the knife under the pillow and I can get it.

David and I were together and my family was going out one night. And David said to me, let's go break into the soda machine at the caddy playground. And I was like, why do you want to do? What are you talking about?

And he was like, I just want to do something like that. Let's do it. And I don't know why because something like that is so far out of character for me. Especially at that time.

I mean, I used to get stomach pains when I would even think about doing something that wasn't totally and completely correct. And I was like, oh, all right, sure. So we went down to the playground and David was trying to break into the machine. And there was this gigantic light that was over the soda machine.

I remember someone yelling at me from out in the darkness. They were like, hey, Brader, is that you? And I couldn't really see who it was. And I was like, yeah, what?

And so that's how smart I was about doing these kinds of things. And so I walked back over and I helped him rip it open. We got three dollars. And all the sodas we could carry, actually.

But I mean, I was nervous, but not half as nervous as a few days later when the police called my house. And they were like, you have to come down and make a statement. And you have to bring one of your parents down. And I was like, you can't do this to me.

I can't tell my parents. You don't know what will happen to me. Look, I can't do it. And he was like, well, you should have thought about that before you committed a crime.

Now you come down here and make a statement. And then my father came home and I told him what happened. And he said nothing to me. He just gave me that look of you are in so much trouble.

And we went down to the police precinct. And the cop came in. He opened this finely sat down. He started reading me my rights.

And I remember sitting there shaking. The cops started asking me all these questions. And then I couldn't really answer. It was so petrified.

And then I remember my father smacked me in the back of the head. And he was like, stop it. You better start talking. Right now.

I remember thinking like, how can my father be angry with me for this? He told me all of these stories that he did when he was a kid. I mean, he used to tie cats' tails together and throw them over clothing lines. So that the two cats would kind of rip each other apart.

He used to tie cats' legs together and throw them out of apartment buildings. I remember once he was running away from his mom, because my dad's mom used to discipline the kids by taking an extension cord and folding it in half. And she would beat them with an extension cord. And remember him telling me how he got away from her one night by sleeping in a tree.

And he slept there all night. And he also told me about how once there was this girl who told on him and one of his brothers. And they came up on this girl and my father held her down and his brother ripped off her clothing. And they tied her to a tree.

And then they just stood there and then they watched her for hours. And when they let her go, my father walked over to her and said, I want you to remember, this time we didn't rape you. Now if you tell on us about this or anything else, next time you won't be so lucky. I told the cop everything except for the screwdriver part.

I kind of left that out because I thought that was really incriminating. And then the cop was like, what about the screwdriver? And as soon as he said that, I was struck by two things. One was the fact that that person who saw me out in the darkness was an eyewitness and he told the cop everything.

And the other was my father's backhand because he smacked me right in the face. I remember falling backwards and hitting my head on the floor actually. And then my father grabbed the chair and then he grabbed me and he threw me into the chair. And he said, you had better start telling the truth.

I'm going to kick your fucking ass. And my lip started bleeding and the cop just looked at me with this look of please help me and then I can help you kind of look. And then looked over at this huge cross on his wall and he was like, do you believe in God? Because your statement that you're making is an oath to God.

Now you can lie to me or your father. But do you really want to lie to God? And I remember thinking at that time that God doesn't care about me. I mean, in this situation, then God doesn't care about me.

But just to get it over with, I started crying and I told the cop, I was sorry. And of course I believe in God and this is all just a horrible thing that happened. And if I had to do it all over again, I never would have went to the playground that night. And the cop finished my statement.

He had me sign it and he gave me a tissue to wipe the blood off my neck and lip. And then he told my father that the people who owned the sewing machine were never going to press charges and that my file that they had on me would be buried by the time I was 17. And that they just wanted to teach David and I a lesson that we would never forget. And when I got home, I was so relieved to have it all over.

I mean, the fat lip, that was nothing. I had tons of those in the past. I ran into the house and I told my mom everything that happened. Then she looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before.

She looked me straight in the eye and she said, I'm very disappointed in you. Then she turned away from me and she went over and started doing the dishes. It was the worst thing my mother ever said to me. I let down the only person that was ever really there for me.

The only person that ever really cared for me. I cried myself to sleep that night and I absolutely made a vow that I would never ever do anything like that ever again. David and I didn't hang out after that. I found out a few weeks later that his mom and he were moving to Phillipsburg, New Jersey.

So I ran down to his place to try and meet him before he left. And his mom answered the door and she said, David, isn't that allowed to hang out with you or your family anymore? I was like, I'm so sorry about what happened with the sewing machine and it was my fault. I'm really sorry.

And I said, why are you moving? And she said, ask your fucking father. And she went back inside the house and slammed the door. I was so confused why she would be angry with my dad.

My dad treated David like a king, like his son. I just figured that maybe she was jealous. David paid a lot of attention to my father and it was probably wasn't spending enough time with his mother and she was totally jealous about that. And that's where my mind went and that's where it stayed and I forgot about it.

But my closest friend was Richard. When David stopped hanging out at my place, I met Richard and Richard and I became really close friends. Richard and I talked about everything. He was the first person I ever really had that kind of relationship with.

Especially a guy because growing up the way I did, men I never really trusted a whole lot. I was always much closer with women and much friendlier with women. But Richard was different. I could open up to him and talk to him and I did.

I mean, we talked about everything. I mean, from the school to the girls we were dating and to masturbation and how many times we did it that day and going to the mall together because I grew up in a small town. That's what we did. We hung out at the mall and we would go to the mall like Saturday morning and be there all day and just walk around the mall.

He would sleep over a lot. So when Richard left my house one day and my father turned to me and said, I'm surprised you still hang out with that kid. I was like, Richard, what are you talking about? He's like best friend.

We do everything together. And he's like, oh, see, you don't know. I was like, what do you mean? I don't know.

And he was like, Richard's gay. And I was like, what are you talking about? And he was like, well, he's gay, fag, whatever you want to call it. He likes guys.

And I was like, what? How do you know? And he was like, Richard told me that he was gay. He confided in me because I'm like a father figure.

I knew guys like that when I was in the Marine Corps. I was like, man, the stuff we used to do to them. Like short sheet their beds or sometimes we put some boots in the duffel bag and while they were sleeping, we'd walk the shit out of them. It was like, so you see, I knew him before he told me.

I remember him looking at me very earnest and very determined. And he was like, I don't give a fuck what you do. But if you hang out with a fag, people are going to think you're a fag. So you better not hang out with him anymore because people are going to start calling your names and they're going to start picking on you more than they do.

So you better just leave him alone. None of this made sense to me. I knew Richard. And we talked about everything.

I was like, it doesn't make any sense. What you're saying doesn't make any sense. I mean, I can't understand it. And he was like, well, you know, Richard's father is a drunk and he doesn't talk to him much.

And Richard looks to me as a father figure, just like David did. And I couldn't hardly sleep that night. None of it computed. I just, if Richard was gay, he knew that it wouldn't affect me in any way.

I mean, I was friends that were gay. I mean, I was in theater. You know what I mean? It didn't bother me at all.

So why would he keep it from me? I just couldn't understand that. And Richard didn't hang out with my father. He didn't go places with my father.

I mean, they talked a little bit because Richard's dad was an alcoholic and wasn't really there for him. And my father in his own way tried to be there for Richard, but Richard was always my friend. You know, it was very different than David. David was always my father's friend.

You know, that shift was always present. Almost from the first time that David came over and we had dinner and David was like, bang. They were like talking and they were like connected. But Richard never.

And they never had any kind of special connection. They never went anywhere together. They never went fishing by themselves together. I was never going to stop being friends with Richard.

This wasn't going to happen. But I had to find out why he would tell my father that he was gay and not tell me. So all day long at school, I was trying to figure out how to talk to Richard, how to have that conversation. So finally, we were over at my house and we were in the kitchen and I just blurted it out.

And I was like, look, Richard, I have something I have to ask you and I want you to be honest with me. Last night, my father of all people told me that you were gay. Look, you know, I don't care about any of that. I mean, it has no bearing on our friendship.

What I really can't understand is how you could tell him and not me. So if this is true, why would you keep it a secret for me? Richard was stunned and he sat down in a chair and he said, your father told you. And I said, yeah.

And he said, all right, I'm going to tell you everything. Richard started telling me about my father. Richard was about 15 at this time. He said, I've always been attracted to men and so is your father.

He said, that son of a bitch taught me all about being gay and about how to cope with it and how to deal with it. He said that my father, when he was younger, was in the Marine Corps. And when he was in the Marine Corps, he met a man and they fell very much in love. They were supposed to hop a train and take off together.

But the young man never showed up. And my father waited at the station for him for two days. And then he went back home and he was devastated. And he didn't see anyone for a few years and his family started asking him questions.

Why aren't you dating? Why aren't you seeing anyone? And that's when he met my mom. They started dating and she became pregnant and was forced by her family and his to get married.

He kind of always felt trapped. And then Richard told me about how my father found ways to get around that. He used to what Richard called cruising the mall. Richard said, it is so easy to do.

I mean, you're walking down the mall. You see a cute guy. You make eye contact. You go into the bathroom and he gets you off or you get him off.

He said, I did it a bunch of times when we were hanging out. I was surprised. You never asked me why I kept disappearing. And he also took Richard to the bookstores in Allentown and showed him about glory holes.

And Richard was like, there's this hole there. And you put your dick in it. Somebody gets you off. It's amazing.

And he was telling me all of this. Like it was nothing. Like it was talking about a movie he had just seen or something like that. And I was trying to piece all of this together.

I mean, this was rattling around in my brain and some things were starting to make sense. But I was still kind of confused about it. And he started telling me about the fact that David and my father, in his words, were lovers. That they used to run off all the time and have sex.

That David was never really my friend. He only hung out with me to be closer to my father. And that David really actually hated me. Because whenever I was around, he couldn't be as close to my father as he wanted to be.

I was totally shocked. And Richard also started telling me about the fact that he had sex with my father. And they started telling me about the fact that my father would pay him for sex. Richard said to me, didn't you think it was weird that sometimes you'd be like, Hey, let's go to Bingo.

And I'd say, well, I can't go. I don't have any money. 20 minutes later, I'd amazingly have $40 in my pocket. He was like, you know, sometimes your father would come up to your bedroom and get me while I was sleeping and we'd go down to the living room and have sex.

He said he did the same thing with David. And then he looked at me and said, I know why your father told you. He said, because I told him I was never going to fuck him again no matter how much he paid me. And he started crying and he looked at me and he said, you know, I feel better having told you about all of this.

I really hated keeping it a secret. But I don't think we should hang out anymore. And Richard ran out of my house. I was standing there trying to piece everything together.

And you know, there was a part of me that was like, you know, is all of this true? I mean, you know, I trusted Richard more than I did my father, but it also seemed to me like, tit for tat. You know, he said, you were gay. You have to say he's gay.

I went upstairs and I collapsed on my bed and I tried to piece everything together. And I put my hand under my pillow and I found that knife. The knife that I had put there in order to kill the creature in white. It was a four-inch steak knife with serrated edges and a wooden handle.

I remember thinking back about the creature in white and my father's favorite night time where being a white t-shirt tucked into his white for the little underwear. And I was like, oh my God, my father is the creature in white and rage filled every cell in my body. And I began biting my tongue. I remember just laying on my bed, biting my tongue.

It was a habit I picked up for my grandfather and it's kind of a way of dealing with rage and frustration. And the more I looked at that knife, the angrier I got. I took that knife to kill the creature in white. And I remember thinking tonight, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

My mind was made up. And dinner was amazingly quiet that night. I remember looking at him and just thinking about watching him die. I was really hoping he would beg me for his life as I cut him.

I went to bed early that night. I sat in the dark with the knife in my hand. The whole time all I kept thinking about were the times that he beat me. The times he lied to me.

The times he smacked me around from not showing in the proper respect. The time he brushed my teeth for me. I was going to stab him in the fucking throat. I remember thinking lie to me now, fucker.

Hit me now, prick. I was walking down my stairs. I was clutching the knife. And I was smiling.

I remember. I was finally going to get even with him for everything he ever did to me. As I turned the corner, I could hear him snoring. My parents bedroom door is always open.

He sleeps closest to the door. I walked through the door. I raised the knife. I was ready.

I was poised and ready. And just then my mother moved. She didn't wake. She only shifted it in her sleep.

But it was enough for me to think about her for just a split second. How would she feel with her husband dead and her son in prison? I thought about how hurt she would be. How distraught she would be.

And I went back downstairs and put the knife back in the drawer and went back up to my room. I couldn't kill him. And he will never know how close he came to being dead. After that, I tried to find proof that he was having sex with men and boys.

I tried to find out myself. I followed him around the mall. Richard told me where to go and who to see and what to say. But I couldn't find anything out.

He was really super smart. He had been hiding everything for so long that he was just uncatchable in that way. At least for me and my 15, 16-year-old self. So I decided that I wanted to tell my mom.

I was like, you know, if there's anyone who can get to the bottom of it, maybe she can. Even if we don't tell him, at least she'll know what I'm dealing with. It was two months from the time that Richard told me everything to the time that I sat my mom down. And I had one of the hardest conversations I think I've ever had in my whole life.

It was on my father's bingo night. And he had left. And I decided that at the last minute I felt that I would only tell her if she no longer loved him. They were fighting.

And I was like, oh, if she doesn't love him anymore. I can tell her this. And then I won't be the one who breaks up their marriage or whatever is going to happen after this information comes out. So my father left and I looked at my mom and I was like, um, you know, mom?

I want you to promise me something. When you no longer love dad, I want to let me know because that's something I want to tell you, but I don't want to let you know I love him. And she looked at me so confused and she was like, what are you talking about? And I was like, I have something to tell you, but I don't know how to tell you.

And she was like, just tell me. Why can't you tell me? And I was like, I don't want to hurt you. And you know what?

I'm not even sure anything I know is true. I have no proof to back anything up. So let's just forget about it unless you no longer love him. And then I can tell you.

And she just looked at me and she said, whatever is on your mind, you can tell me. And I said, well, um, I think that dad is gay. And she looked at me so confused and she said, well, what's gay? And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I mean, my mom had no idea. I mean, she came from an overprotective family to a husband who kept her in the dark about everything. I mean, he made sure of that. She had no idea about any kind of alternative lifestyle because no one ever talked to her about it.

I mean, she came from a time where no one ever talked about being gay. And if it came up at all, it was a foreign and mysterious thing that only happened in other people's families. And I was like, um, I think that dad likes to sleep with guys because Richard told me that dad's gay. And she was like, well, how would Richard know such a thing?

And I said, because Richard's gay, Richard had sex with dad. And I said, Richard also told me that dad had sex with David. You know, I think that's why David and his mom moved away. I think David's mom found out about dad and David.

I tried to be as tender as I could, but as straightforward as I could. She was like, how can you say such a thing? She was like, I know you and your father don't get along, but how can you say such a thing about him? And I said, Mom, trust me, I am not making this stuff up.

And some things do add up. Richard didn't know David yet. He goes all about their relationship. I mean, he had to hear that from somebody.

And then I told my mom something that jumped into my head that I had totally forgotten all about. I said, once I was sitting on the arm of dad's chair and we were goofing around and he grabbed me. And I jumped off his chair really quickly and he said he was sorry. But it was way too weird for me to ever sit on the arm of his chair with him again.

And I never even pieced that together until Richard started telling me about him. And my mom looked at me and she was like, well, I want to get to the bottom of this. I want you to call Richard and me, you Richard and your father are going to sit down and talk about this. She was like, I want him here tomorrow night at eight o'clock.

She said, I don't care what he's doing, I want him here. I believe my mom wanted just to get Richard in a room with my father and have Richard break down and say he was so sorry for ever starting this horrible rumor and that it would be all over. So I called Richard and Richard was like, I will come over. Absolutely.

And I understand you telling your mom and I will be there for you. Richard was my best friend. I remember coming downstairs that night. I heard my father say to my mother, are you trying to accuse me of having sex with other women?

And my mom looked at him and said, no, I hear you're having sex with other men. And my father's face turned bright red. And for a moment he was at a loss for words and that in that split second is when my mom started to believe. Because we had watched the devil lie his way out of a hundred different things.

He could lie at the drop of a hat. And here he was, speechless. When he finally pulled himself together he turned to my mother and said, well, who told you that? And she said, Richard, he's actually on his way over to talk about this.

And my father got so angry and he was like, well, he's a fucking liar. And my mom said, I just want to get to the bottom of this. And he said, I can't believe you were taking his word over mine. And she said, I'm not taking anyone's word.

I just want to get this all out in the open. And he was like good, I can't wait for him to get here. She said he'll be here any minute. The doorbell rang and I saw fear in my father's face for the first time.

And I'd never seen it before. That desperation, that caged kind of fear of not knowing where to go or what to do. And he opened the door and Richard came in and sat on the couch and my father took a long look at him and just stared at him. And then he walked out the door.

And my mom started to cry because she knew no matter what she was about to hear. It was true. And Richard sat down and told my mom everything. And Richard first said that he was not going to press charges against my father.

But he would tell her everything that he knew. And he did. And my mom listened. And when it was all over, my mom turned to me and said, Bobby, what are we going to do?

We have that little baby girl upstairs to take care of. We can't afford to move. And I was like, well, we'll think of something. The next day I was getting ready for school and the devil was waiting for me.

I had just come out of the bathroom and ready to go. And he was standing by the bathroom door. And he said, I can't believe you're trying to destroy my life over something that happened once. And I walked past him going towards the stairs to go down.

And I said, I believe that happened more than once. And I started walking down the stairs and he screamed. Is that what your lying faggot friend said? I made it downstairs and I turned and I said, I believe that lying faggot more than I do you.