Registered Sex Offender Part 7: You've Got Mail

"So, how's my star patient today?" the doctor said cheerfully as he came bouncing into the room. It was late afternoon, and the doctor had just finished his work outside the prison for the day and was on his way home.
"I'm fine, doctor," Chip answered with a bit of a start. "Pretty sore, but I guess that's to be expected."
"Sure is, especially with the mess you'd made of your insides. We coulda lost you if we hadn't got you inside when we did."
"So Dennis told me. I guess I owe you a thank you."
"You guess? You don't sound very sure at all."

To his total surprise and embarrassment, Chip started to cry! Show him some dignity! the doctor had said. He's an inmate, a HUMAN inmate, not an animal! "I'm sorry, doctor," Chip blubbered as Dennis looked on from the doorway. "It's just... well... if I came that close... maybe I... maybe it'd been better if I had just... well... I'm just not at all sure I'm worth the effort."

"Jesus!" the doctor roared. "Dennis, get the fuck in here!"

Dennis obeyed. "What the fuck is this kid doing in here anyway? Christ, he's not a criminal, he's a child!"
"I dunno, doctor. He came over from the youth center, and that's about all I know."
"You've been here all day, and you two haven't talked at all?"
"Yes, sir, we've talked. But you know how it is. What we say is... well... private."

"Chip, what the hell are you doing in prison?"
"It's the only place I know I can serve out my sentence," Chip answered, evading the question.
"What're you in for?" the doctor pressed.
"Statutory rape; child molesting; contributing to the delinquency of a minor; taking indecent liberties; indecent assault; incest. I think that's all." For some reason, Chip didn't want to reveal his sins to this man, but the good doctor wouldn't let it go.

"What rocket scientist figured you did all that?"
"Lots of 'em. I did 'em, so..."
Bullshit! How long are you in for?"
"Ten years."

The doctor shook his head. "Ten years?" he whispered.
"Yes, sir."
"How long have you served?"
"Four months."

"Okay. I gotta run, but I'll be back. My name is Doctor Murdock; Dan Murdock. Remember that name, because you're gonna hear it a lot in the near future. Are they treating you all right here?"
"Yes, sir. They're spoiling me some."
"Good. Is Dennis... er... bothering you?"
"No, sir. He and I talk a lot."

"Dennis," the doctor said, his stern tone back in full force, "the kid's fourteen! I ordered you to babysit him, not mess with him. Understood?"

Dennis nodded.

"He stays here until I say he's fit to move, understood?"
"Yes, sir. But they'll be wanting to know how long..."
"I dunno, Dennis. A week, two, a month... I dunno. But he stays put till I say otherwise, right?"
"Yes, sir."

Doctor Murdock checked Chip's incision, poked around a bit without a word, and he was gone. "Sheech!" Dennis whistled. "What the hell have you got on him?"
"I dunno what ya mean, got on him," Chip said. "I never met the man till last night."
"Well, you sure did something right. I've never seen him go off like that!"
"Go off?"
"Yeah! He's usually calm and cool. He's a hell of a doctor, but he just doesn't get involved like that. Just does his work and leaves."

"What's this about babysitting me?"
"Yeah. That's my job, as long as you're here."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know..."
"Hey, don't be sorry. Long as you're here, I stay too. No cell block, no counts, no nothing but living here in the lap of luxury."
"But why? I don't need a babysitter."
"You really don't know, do you, Chip?"
"No, I don't. If I did, I wouldn't ask."

"Chip," Dennis said in a lowered tone as if revealing some great secret, "I'm your bodyguard. You're a great looking kid in a prison full of sex-starved maniacs. If they got hold of you, they'd pump you so full of semen, through every hole you got and some you don't have yet, that we'd never pump it all outta you!"

"Yeah, right!" Chip laughed. "And you're gonna protect me! You, who had my balls in your hand before I was in here fifteen minutes."
"What can I say?" Dennis grinned. "A fella's gotta have a little fun."
"You... you can have a little more if you want..." Chip could simply not believe that those words had come from his lips! But they had. Now he had to deal with the consequences.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Dennis said wistfully.
"No thanks? Gee, thanks a lot, Dennis. I thought you said I was gorgeous."
"Chip, you're the sweetest, softest piece of human flesh I've touched in a very long time! I doubt I'll ever touch anyone more desirable than you are. But you're my responsibility. I may be a murderer, but I'm not scum. When I give my word, you can put it in the bank. And I gave my word I'd protect you, to the death if necessary."

"Jesus, Dennis," Chip said, "aren't you being a little melodramatic?"
"No, Chip, I'm not. I'm tellin' ya, if I didn't have this little beeper thing here, you'd be in a lotta danger! But one push of this button and there'll be guards all over this place."
"Won't that get you in trouble with the other inmates?"
"Nah, not really. It's my job."

"Dennis," Chip said, again before he even knew he was going to say it, "I appreciate your protection; but I told you I didn't mind, and I meant it. Just don't expect me to participate too much. I'm just too sore."
"I appreciate that, too, Chip," Dennis answered. "But... well, I promised. I may lose control once in a while and slip you a little feel, but that's all you're gonna get from me. Sorry."
"It's okay. But it looks like we're gonna be spending some time together. You got any smokes?"
"You bet I do!"
How about cards?"
"I can get a deck."
"Do you play poker?"
"Of course I do!"
"Great! If you don't mind teaching me, we might just get through this."

"Ed," Steve said as he sat down, "are you sure Chip's all right?"
"He's just fine, Steve. I've been to see him three times, and he's just fine. He says to tell you he misses you, but he's fine and on the mend."
"But it's been over two weeks! How long are they gonna keep him over there?"
"I don't know, Steve. All I know is that Dr. Murdock said he wasn't about to release him back here until he was fit as a fiddle. Probably just as well, because we really aren't equipped to handle kids who can't get around by themselves."
"Is he out of bed yet?" Steve asked. He was getting really suspicious that they weren't telling him everything.
"Oh, yes," Ed answered. "He's been out of bed for quite a while. He and Dennis..."
"Dennis? Who the fuck's Dennis?"
"He's Chip's bodyguard. They're together all the time."
"Oh, really!"
"No, Stevie, I know what you're thinking, and that's just not the case. Dennis is there to prevent what you're thinking."
"Uh-huh. So what do Chip and Dennis do all day?"
"That's what I was trying to tell you. They roam about the prison, going anywhere they want, long as there are no inmates around. But mostly they play poker in the hospital. Chip's won a lifetime supply of cigarettes off Dennis!"

"So there's really no reason why he couldn't come back, right?"
"Steve, I'm gonna be honest with you. If I were making the decision, Chip would be back here now. But it's not up to me. All we can do is wait until Dr. Murdock gives the okay. I'm sorry, but he has total control. I think he's worried that Chip won't keep himself quiet or something. But he's fine, and he misses you terribly. Trust me! Now let's talk about what's going on in your life, okay?"

Ed Barker had not told Steve the truth; at least he hadn't told it all. He hadn't told him that Dr. Murdock had used his doctor's privilege to glean what information he could from all Chip's contacts, including Ed himself. And he certainly hadn't told Steve that he had decided that Dr. Murdock would keep what he learned in confidence, so he'd told him all that Chip had told him. It seemed that the good doctor had been quite moved by the little white kid with the burst appendix, and was at this very moment trying to get him out. And to Ed Barker's dismay, there was no room in his plans for Steve Jordan.

As if that weren’t enough, Howard Benning, Ed’s boss, was pulling all the strings he could get his hands on, calling in every IOU he’d ever had, trying to get Chip into the sex therapy that would, in Ed’s opinion, totally fry Chip’s brain. The therapy was used primarily on habitual felons, sexual predators, pedophiles. It consisted of intensive shock therapy, reinforcement of any guilt that might be present, all sorts of things, all of which, Ed contended, were exactly what Chip did NOT need. But since Chip was already in Central Prison, Ed had been fighting a losing battle.

By the third day, Chip and Dennis had become fast friends. This was perhaps the first close friendship Chip had ever had that involved no intimacy whatsoever, and Chip found it refreshing. True, his relationship with Stevie had been mutual convenience at first, changing very quickly to mutual attraction; but still, their relationship was based on, and probably depended on to a large degree, certain parts of their bodies. But with Dennis, it was almost a father - son relationship. Indeed, even the occasional fondling would have stopped, except that Chip enjoyed it and asked for it.

"Boxer shorts?" Chip questioned when Dennis brought him some clothes. Dr. Murdock had said he could get out of bed, so Dennis had sent for some clothes.
"What can I say?" Dennis shrugged. "That's standard CP issue. May be a little big on ya, but it's the best I could do. I asked for small ‘cause I knew they wouldn't have size tiny!"
"I'm not that small."
"Oh, yes you are. Tiny and delicious!"

"Dennis, if you feel that way, why don't you just come on and do it, and get it over with? Quit torturing yourself!"
"That what you want?"
"In a way. I've got it on with everyone I was ever close to since I was little, so why not you too? Especially if you want me that bad."
"Cause it ain't right, Chip! Now forget it and try them boxers on. If you're as adorable in 'em as I think you're gonna be, I just might change my mind."

Chip obediently pulled on the boxers, and they were indeed large for him. They stayed up, as long as Chip stood still; but as soon as he took two steps, they were around his ankles. "That's okay," Dennis grinned. "Once you get your pants on they'll stay up."
"Fuck 'em!" Chip said, "I'll just go with no underwear."
"If that's what you want," Dennis mused, "But I thought..."
"What, Dennis? What did you think?"
"Well, we have a saying here. The chickens and other children wear briefs, but real men in CP wear boxers."

"You're kidding!"
"That's what they say. But if you want to put your sweet bare butt into them pants, it's okay by me."
"Maybe I better not. I might mess up my incision. You got any safety pins in here?"

There was no more discussion about boxer shorts as Chip paraded around the tiny hospital, wearing nothing but the too large garment that had been pinned a little smaller at the waist. Of course Dennis had made up the saying on the spur of the moment, but Chip didn't know that. And he really was cute, Dennis thought, in those boxers. But then Dennis thought Chip was cute in anything! Or nothing!

"There's one thing that confuses me," Dennis said when Chip was back in bed. He had found he tired a lot more easily than he'd expected, so now he was lying on his bed, still wearing only his white boxers.
"What's that?" he asked as he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.
"You," Dennis said. "When the doc came in that first day, you started crying and told him it might've been better if he'd let you die. Why the hell would you say something like that, Chip?"
"Cause... cause that's the way I feel. It just seems such a waste, spending time and money on me when my life is so fucked up."
"Chip, don't be so fucking crazy! Your life isn't fucked up! Don’t you remember our conversation when you first woke up?"
“Some of it,” Chip admitted.
“Then why do you keep talking like that?”

"Right!" Chip laughed bitterly. "My life's not fucked up at all! It's perfectly normal to be fourteen and the father of your sister's baby. And it's natural for your mother and father to disown you when you're fourteen. And spending ten years in jail while your friends graduate from middle school, high school, college... that's all perfectly fine. Just a normal red-blooded American boy. Naw, my life's not fucked up at all! I'll do my ten years, then when I get out I'll just go back to the ninth grade where I left off. Oh, I'll be a little bigger, a little older than the other kids, but that's no problem. Of course they'll have to lock up all the sweet young girls and boys 'cause everybody knows I'm a rapist and a molester! And in case they don’t already know, there’s always that sex offender registry on the Internet. I’m a charter member you know."

"Chip," Dennis interrupted, "you've got one hell of a guilt complex there, and a pretty good depression! But I'll tell ya what: Let's you and I change lives, okay? I've been in jail since I was nineteen, and I doubt if I'll ever get out. This is my life, Chip! What you see is it! That's all there is!"
"Yeah, so what's the difference?"
"The difference is, my young friend, that you will be free as the birds when you're twenty-four; maybe sooner. Lots of guys don't get their lives together till they're in their twenties anyway. In the meantime you can go to school, get your high school diploma, maybe even learn a trade. So as soon as you get out, you're ready to start again. You got something to look forward to, Chip. My only goal is to make life in here as easy for myself as I can, and in the process try to make other people a little happier. There's no point in keeping contact with my friends or relatives on the outside, 'cause they're out of my life! Forever!"

"Dennis, I understand what you're saying; but I got all that other stuff to deal with. Christ, Dennis, I raped a twelve year old girl! And got her pregnant! They had to do an abortion because the doctor said the baby would kill her."
"You raped her?"
"That's what the law said."
"You grabbed her and threw her down, and pried her legs apart while you stuffed something in her mouth to stifle the screams, then you fucked her?"
"No, Dennis! I already told you! That's not the way..."

"The truth is, Chip, you didn't rape anybody! And you didn't influence anybody either, so quit torturing yourself over it. Sure, she was twelve. But goddammit, man, you were only thirteen! And your sister had been messing around with you so long you wouldn't know rape from incest from normal sex if it slapped you in the face!"

"Don't talk about my sister that way!" Chip spat back. "She didn't mean any harm."
"No," Dennis agreed, "she probably didn't. But she sure didn't help. And you took the rap for the whole fuckin' bunch! You think that's fair?"
"I was the one did the screwing. It was my sperm got 'em all pregnant.”
"Well, I gotta admit it's been a long while since I've been near a woman, but near as I can remember, it takes two to fuck. And you can come all day in your hand and your hand won't get pregnant! You gotta put that stuff IN someone, and that's kinda hard to do without their cooperation. So if it takes two, how come only one is guilty?"

"The girls couldn't go to jail cause they've got babies to take care of."
"Okay, Chip," Dennis sighed. "Let's look at it another way. Let's assume you're guilty as sin. Let's say for arguments sake that you're rotten clear through, and that the law is right: You raped 'em, it was your fault, and the world is a better place because you're behind bars."
"Now you're seeing things the way they really are."
"Okay, fine! Now, let's assume that you feel sorry for what you done. You're really sorry for all the hurt and anxiety you caused. Are you still with me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay, you're guilty, and you're sorry. So what're you gonna do?"
"Do? I dunno what you mean."

"Well, lets say you break a window with a rock. Well, you did it all right, but then you're sorry for doing it. What's the reasonable thing to do?"
"I... I guess replace the glass."
"Right! In other words, undo the harm you did, right?"
"I guess so."
"Okay, after you undo it, would you feel that you were no longer guilty?"
"Not really. But I'd have fixed it the best I could."
"And you'd be satisfied?"
"Sure."

"Okay, now what if that wasn't good enough for the owner of the window? What if he said you had to fix his television set because it got a draft while the window was broken?"
"Well, if that was true..."
"With the temperature 80 degrees?"
"I'd probably tell him I didn't think it was my fault."
"But his TV's broken, and it broke at the same time his window was broken. So doesn't it make sense that you caused it?"
"Not necessarily. You gotta use common sense."

"Are you using common sense, Chip?"

Chip shrugged.

"Let's take our little game one step further, okay?"
"Do we have to?"
"Yeah, I think we do. I think you're the kinda guy that'd fix that guy's TV, even though you knew it wasn't your fault. So lets say you do that, but the guy still isn't satisfied. He says you need to be punished. Would you take the punishment?"
"I guess I would... if I had to."
"But would you feel guilty?"
"Why should I feel guilty? I've fixed his window and TV, and I've taken his punishment. What more could I do?"
"I dunno, Chip. You tell me. What more could you do?"

"I couldn't do anything more," Chip said impatiently, "But I don't see what..."
"You got it, Chip! You've done all you could do, so you're satisfied! So what can you do about those girls you screwed, or raped, or whatever word you wanna use?"
"I certainly can't do anything in here!"
"What about the babies?"
"Nope."
"What if you were outside? What could you do?"
"I could support 'em."
"Right, Chip! Fourteen years old, and you're gonna support three girls and their babies. You know how much money a fourteen year old can make? That is, IF he can get a job at all?"
"I'd find a way."
"I know it! You'd do exactly what I did. You'd try and try until you just couldn't take any more failure, then you'd get yourself a gun and rob somebody. Maybe you'd kill 'em, and then your problems would he over, because you'd be in here for life!

"You can't do anything about it now, Chip! You can't undo it, and you can't do any more than you've already done. You've taken punishment you didn't really deserve; you've preserved the good name of girls who don't deserve it, and you've supported everyone's belief that you are the scum of the earth and caused the whole ugly mess. It's all you can do, Chip! So stop feeling guilty and get on with your life. Take advantage of all the offers you get while you're inside, and start preparing right now for a life outside. It'll probably be the hardest thing you'll ever do, because no one will believe you're really sincere. But you gotta do it, Chip, or you'll turn into another punk, just like the rest of us!"

"Wow! Ed Barker said as he walked into the room. "That was quite a speech. Ever think of getting into social work?"
"Nah," Dennis said sheepishly, "too tame. How long you been listening?"
"Probably longer than is considered good manners. But you were making such good sense, I wanted to hear it all. Listen to him, Chip, he's been where you are now."
"Yeah, I know," Chip said bitterly. "Everyone knows exactly how I feel."

"I can't stay very long today," Ed said apologetically, "but I had some mail to deliver, so I thought I'd drop it off. I'm breaking every rule in the book by hand delivering this, but Janet particularly didn't want it seen by the censors. So here, Chip. Read 'em and destroy 'em, okay?"

Chip said that he would, and immediately opened the first of the two sealed envelopes. "Dennis," Ed said, "While he's reading, can I talk to you?"
"Don't bother," Chip quipped. "He's useless! No interest in sex at all." Ed replied with an icy look that would freeze hell itself, which only served to amuse Chip all the more.

“I take it he’s still pretty depressed?” Ed asked when they were out of earshot.
“He’s coming along,” Dennis replied. “He’s been through a lot, but I guess you know all about that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ed said. “You like him a lot, don’t you Dennis?”
“Yeah,” Dennis said dreamily. “He’s like the son I always wanted but will never have now.”
“That’s good,” Ed said. “I want you to keep working on him, try to make him feel better about himself. It’s doubly important now, Dennis. He’s gonna need every ounce of self esteem he can get.”

“Why?” Dennis asked. “What’s happened?”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Ed said as he looked around to make sure they were alone. “My boss is trying to arrange for Chip to take those sex aversion courses while he’s here. As soon as Murdock sets him loose, Chip’ll be going into those sexual pervert classes if Manning gets his way.”

“They can’t do that!” Dennis practically screamed. “I’ve seen men three times his age come out of those classes practically zombies! It’ll kill him, Ed!”
“I know,” Ed said regretfully. “But I’ve done all I can do. The only one who can help him now is you, Dennis. Just keep talking to him the way you were when I came in. And if it isn’t enough, just remember you did your best, ok?”

Dear Chip,

I'm really sorry to hear that you got sick, but Ed tells me you're feeling a lot better now. I'm sorta glad in a way that you were in there, because if you'd been home, I might not have known what to do. Anyway you get rested up so you can get back in school and work on coming home. I miss my anatomically correct little brother.

Your son is a wonderful baby. He doesn't cry a lot, though he misses his daddy. I tell him every single day how wonderful his daddy is, and how his mommy and daddy have been making love since before we even knew what we were doing. I really think he knows what I'm saying sometimes.

By the way, I forgot to tell you his name. It's Scott Chip. Scott Chip Stockdale! Isn't that just special? I was going to call him Chip Scott, but I know how you never really liked your name. But I still find myself calling him Chip quite a lot. I really miss you, little brother. I can't wait till you can be with me and our son! Maybe we can get started on making another one.

How is Stevie? I hope he's not too worried about you, but I know he will be. He's really nice, Chip, and it's gonna be so nice having both of you with me, taking care of me and little Scott. With the two of you working, we should be able to make lots of money. Soon, we'll even have our own house, and then no one can tell us what to do, ever again! And believe me, I've got all sorts of ideas for fun things we can do when we're all together. I lie awake nights, dreaming of a white cock in me on one side and a black one on the other. Then we all switch. And every time I get pregnant, it'll be like a lottery waiting to see which of you is the father. It's gonna be so great, having two of my own little fucking machines. And who knows? When Scotty gets a little older, he might want to join in the fun too!

Mom and Dad still haven't seen the baby. They said they don't want to see him, or me either as long as I'm here. I'm still at the shelter, waiting for a low rental apartment to become available. They give Scotty and me lots to eat here, but there aren't many extras. My welfare checks don't start till I get out on my own, so in the meantime I'm afraid I can't help you with your cigarette money. You smoke too much anyway!

I gotta go, Chip. I just got this picture of our son, I thought you'd like to have it. Isn't he adorable? I'll write later, and I'll visit when I can.

I love you, Chip, and I can't wait till you're inside me again. Please take care of yourself, and especially that wonderful thingy of yours.

Janet

Chip lay on the bed, staring at the photograph Janet had sent him. "Wow!" he exclaimed over and over. He was looking at a piece of himself; his immortality; this issue of his loins, as he'd read in the Bible once in another life. He was still lying there, still staring in total awe at the tiny person when Dennis came back.

"Ed said he'd see you tomorrow," Dennis said as he sat down by the bed. "He had somewhere he had to go today."

"Look, Dennis!" Chip said excitedly, "it's my son! His name's Scott Chip. Isn't he wonderful?"
"Yeah," Dennis said as he examined the picture, "he sure is. Yeah, he's really wonderful!" He wanted to say that it just wasn't right for a fourteen year old boy, not out of childhood himself, to be showing off pictures of his offspring; but now certainly wasn't the time.

"You can read Jan's letter if you like," Chip offered.
"I'd love to," Dennis answered. "You sure you don't mind?"
"Naw, it's all right. Then can you get rid of it for me?"
"Sure," Dennis answered as he took the letter. "Why don't you read the other one too, so I can trash them both at the same time?"

Dear Chip,

I finally found out where your sister was living so I could write to you. I wanted to so bad, but you know how mad my father is, so I didn't dare use the mail in case it came back to him somehow that we were in contact. I heard somewhere that they read your mail, but Janet said she had a way to get mail to you that was not censored. So hopefully this will get to you because there's some things I just have to say to you or I'll explode!

I know they called what you did to me rape, but you need to know that I know what rape is, and that's simply not how it was. Yes, I was pretty young, but so were you! We would both be far better off if it had never happened, but it did, and it was wonderful. If anyone should be in jail, it should be our sisters. I never told you this because I was too embarrassed, but Cheri used to pump me every single night about what we'd done. She wanted me to describe every detail, but I wouldn't. She even said that if she'd known we were always going to do it in the bedroom with the door locked, she'd never have got it started.

But that's all in the past now, Chip. Of course you know they killed the baby. They said that I was too little, and that it would kill me to have a baby so young. I guess I'll never know if they were lying or not, but I have a feeling they were, just to get me to go along with them. I cry a lot these days. I cry for the dead baby, and I cry for you, sitting in that jail where you have no business being.

Chip, this experience has taught me a whole lot more than we had counted on. I have spent hours and hours at the library, because I wanted to know if you were the monster they all said you were. I didn't think so, but I loved you enough that I had to know. Well, you aren't! You aren't a monster at all!

When I read about case histories on rape and child abuse, it just wasn't what I'd been through. They described pain and suffering, little girls and boys being tortured, men forcing big penises in little holes and ripping them open in the process! They didn't care who they hurt, only that they got their way. I was shocked to think that you were convicted of violent things like that, because that's not what happened at all!

Remember our very first time, Chip? Of course I didn't want you to know, but I was scared to death! Cheri told me that she and Janet would be watching, and that terrified me. Up until that day no one had ever seen me naked except my parents and the doctor. And now I was going to get... gee, I didn't know what, except that I would more than likely be naked, and in front of two other girls! What if I started to cry? Or what if I really couldn't go through with it? They'd never let me hear the end of it.

But somehow you seemed to sense what I was thinking. When you took me by the hand and led me up the stairs, I felt like a lamb being taken to the slaughter. I was only there because my sister had talked me into it. But when we went into the bedroom and you closed the door, I knew that you weren't going to hurt me, and I knew that I was safe. You kept saying over and over that we could stop if I wanted. I didn't want to stop because I was so scared of what Cheri would do to me; but somehow I knew with you I had nothing to fear.

When you started undressing me, I wanted to scream bloody murder! But every time you touched me, or revealed a little more of me, it was as if you were worshipping me! I felt so special, so cherished, so much a woman!

When I first felt and saw what you were going to stick into me, it looked to me to be about six feet long. God, was I scared! But once more, I told you to go on. You did, but so slowly, so gently. Did you know that from the time you started trying to enter until you finally got it all in was over twenty minutes? Each time you tried, it hurt a little. But then you would stop and try again. You were so gentle, I had to have you!

Chip, I'm still pretty young, so I'm not sure if what I'm feeling for you is love, I mean THAT kind of love, or not. I love you all right, because you're so kind and gentle and caring. I loved what we did, and my only regret is that we were too young to know about all the precautions we should've been taking. No, you haven't turned me into a nymphomaniac like that lawyer said. I haven't had sex with anyone else, and I don't intend to. But I will dream of the day when I can have sex with you again. By then we'll probably be old enough to know what we're doing, and I know that'll just make it more special.

I hope that somehow it'll help for you to know how I feel about you. I still have the pictures of us that we had taken. My favorite is the one of us by the swing. I lie in bed at night staring at that picture, and in my fantasies we're together again. I know we were both just kids and shouldn't have done all the things we did, but it was just so wonderful! And that picture says it all. We seem to radiate the happiness, the comfort, the peace that I always felt when I was with you. In that picture you look so masculine, so powerful, so protective! You were my man, Chip! I love you, and I love all our memories! I love the times we had together, and I have never regretted having sex with you.

I have to stop now because I've made myself cry again. As I said, I cry a lot these days. But I'm okay. I'm not twisted or demented because of your abuse, because there was no abuse. But as long as our baby is dead, and you're in a cage, I'll cry.

I had to write this letter now because we'll be moving to Boston in two weeks. I would rather stay here so I can be close to you, but it seems there's no chance of my visiting you anyway. I hate being a kid so bad, because I have to do what somebody else says whether I want to or not. Daddy says I'm far better off forgetting you, but I can never do that. So I'll just say so long. For now I'm going to work on getting my life together. But don't be surprised if I pop out of nowhere some day.

Take care of yourself, Chip. I hope it helps to know that there's at least one person, your alleged victim, who knows just what a sweet, wonderful person you are. If I had even dreamed that you'd go to jail because of my testimony, I'd never have told the truth.

I love you, Chip...

Kim

Chip had managed to get through Janet's letter without tears, but this one he could not get through. When Dennis asked to read it, Chip could only nod and pass the paper to him.

"Chip," Dennis said almost in a whisper when he'd finished reading, "why are you crying? Dammit, if I'd known that's the kinda lovemaker you are, I'd have been in your pants long ago! Christ, that's beautiful! So why are you crying?"
"What can I say, Dennis? I guess I'm just a fucking pansy. I cry a lot. So sue me!"

"Pansy? You? I hardly think so, my pretty little friend! I think you're one tough cookie, that's what I think. After all you've been through, I think you're pretty tough to be hangin' in there. You went through all that court bullshit, and took the whole thing yourself. Remember, I've been through a trial, and I know some of the terrible things they can say about you. And I was guilty! Jesus, Chip, you took all the guilt of everyone and didn't open your mouth! Why the hell did you do that?"
"I dunno... I guess I figured I had to."
"Yeah," Dennis said pensively, "I can see that. The more I know about you, the more I can understand that."

To be continued...