by Mark M Bello
Chapter Nine
Dr. Rothenberg paused, reviewed his notes, and contemplated his approach. He was beginning his thirteenth session with the Tracey boys. The sessions took place over six weeks at two sessions per week. Phone calls from the Voice, after each session, were very troubling, frustrating him as much as the boys’ almost complete silence during therapy. He learned the boys hated church. They also disliked school, as it was part of the church. They were angry with their mother for making them go to school and for trying to make them go to church. They were angry with their father for dying and with Father Bill for leaving. They were mad with Father Jon for letting Bill leave and hiring Gerry to replace him. Most of all, they hated Father Gerry, without explanation. He decided today he would take a more direct approach.
Dr. Rothenberg prompted, “Your problems with Father Gerry seem to have developed on that camping trip. Did Gerry do anything on that trip to upset you?”
No answer. Jake glanced at Kenny, eyes pleading for direction.
“Did he speak to you in a mean or sarcastic way?”
“No,” Kenny grunted.
“Did he hit you?”
“No,” muttered Kenny. He was becoming uncomfortable.
“Did other boys do anything to cause anger?” Dr. Rothenberg probed.
“No,” repeated Kenny.
“Did Father Gerry put his hands on you in any way that made you uncomfortable?”
Does he know? I can’t tell him, can I? Can I trust this guy? Kenny folded his arms and engaged in internal debate. Jake’s eyes met Rothenberg’s for a brief moment.
“Do you boys know the difference between good touch and bad touch?” Rothenberg probed.
“Yes,” Kenny grumbled, and then he began to cry.
Jake began to cry as well, looking to his brother, silently urging him to unload their burden.
“What’s the difference?” Dr. Rothenberg pressed.
“I don’t want to discuss this,” Kenny groaned. Do I? The voice in his head grew louder.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s disgusting!”
“What’s disgusting?”
“Someone touching you in a bad way,”
“What way would he have to touch you for it to be bad?” Rothenberg was desperate.
“You know,” Kenny moaned.
“No, I don’t. Explain it to me,” Rothenberg prodded.
“I can’t,” Kenny grunted in anguish, tears rolling down his cheek.
“I can help you,” Rothenberg pleaded. “Please, you must trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone from the church,” Kenny shouted.
“Do you think I want to hurt you?” Dr. Rothenberg inquired.
“I don’t know. I don’t know you that well. Do you want to hurt me?”
“No, Kenny, I don’t. Trust me, please! I want to help you,” pleaded Rothenberg.
“Bad touch is when he touches you in places he shouldn’t, your private parts!” Jake blurted. He screamed and broke into tears. “But he did more. He hurt me, and he hurt Kenny too.”
“Jake, no!” Kenny screamed.
Jake continued, tears flowing in droves. “I begged for him to stop. He wouldn’t stop. It was awful. I was bleeding and crying. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop!” Jake broke down in uncontrollable sobbing. He buried himself in Kenny’s arms.
Rothenberg was dumbfounded, shocked speechless. He was retained to provide treatment in a fourth-degree fondling case. This was far worse. This is a first-degree case. These boys were raped! The floodgates opened—details were pouring out now. Father Gerry showered with them, forced them to wear nothing but nightshirts as they got into bed, and joined each one in turn.
“I knew we couldn’t trust you or anyone! Look what you’ve done to my brother!” Kenny charged.
Dr. Rothenberg corrected him. “No, Kenny. Gerry hurt your brother. It’s good to get this off his chest and talk about it. It can help you guys begin to heal.” He desperately tried to return them to a calmer state.
“We don’t need your help,” Kenny calmly grumbled.
“I think you do,” Dr. Rothenberg countered. “Did Gerry do this to you too, Kenny? You and Jake have done nothing wrong! This is all on Father Gerry.” I have to get them to trust me! “Kenny, what Jake just said, did Gerry do this to you too?” he prodded, sickened by the thought. Of course, he did; why wouldn’t he?
Trembling and ready to burst if he didn’t talk, Kenny screamed, “Yes!” Tears poured down his cheeks. “Just like Jake said! He wouldn’t stop. It hurt worse than anything! He got this stuff all over me, and I was bleeding. He told us, ‘The Lord loves clean bodies,’ and I’m bleeding all over the place! Then he took us into the shower, cleaned us off, and hurt us again! I hate him! We trusted him. He was our priest!” Kenny cried.
“Of course you trusted him,” Rothenberg agreed. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Both boys sobbed. Rothenberg got up from his chair, sat down between the boys on the couch, and held both of them in his arms. He was devastated and shocked at the scope of the priest’s conduct, enraged church officials deceived him, and a parish priest raped two young boys. He could not maintain the discretion the Voice requested and still serve justice.
This monster needs to be locked up. Where did this predator come from? Has he done this before? How many young boys has he traumatized? How could the church expose unsuspecting children to such a man? Gerry has to be stopped. Forget discretion! I’ll tell the Voice to fuck off. Rothenberg’s head was spinning.
He needed to calm the boys down and speak to their mother. Oh, my God! Jennifer! Her entire life, especially since her husband died, has been these boys and this church. To have both shattered in such a bizarre fashion . . . He found himself despising his work. Jennifer required the truth, but he dreaded the moment. She’d been through so much.
And what of these boys? Am I qualified to help them? I’ve never had a case like this one, this severe. His stomach was in turmoil, his mind filled with self-doubt. Could he find a way? He needed to facilitate the removal of Gerry from Lakes and into a treatment center. The Voice would not approve. Screw the fucking Voice!
Rothenberg was skating on thin ice. The Voice seemed to know his every move. Is my office being monitored? That must be it! God, am I paranoid? Get a grip, man! He needed an ally; someone he could discuss this with outside of the office. But whom could he trust in this situation?
Father Jon! Jon’s a good and decent man. He can’t be involved in this. How do I reach him without the Voice discovering the contact? If he’s monitoring my office, he’s tracking the church as well. Jennifer! I can reach him through Jennifer! Rothenberg realized at that moment that the boys had stopped crying and were staring at him.
“Well,” Rothenberg composed himself. “Are you guys okay?”
“Yes, Doc,” Jake had regained self-control.
“I g-guess so,” Kenny stuttered.
“Do you feel any better unloading all those secrets you’ve been keeping inside?” Rothenberg probed.
“I’m not sure . . .” Kenny hesitated.
“Father Gerry is evil. He did terrible things. Telling someone, getting this off your chest is a wonderful first step. Hopefully, I can help get you past this. We need to tell your mother, okay? She is very worried,” Rothenberg prodded.
“She’ll be angry,” Kenny argued. “She’ll be mad at me for not protecting Jake. That’s my job.”
Tough job for someone so young, Rothenberg reasoned. “No, she won’t, Kenny. Gerry took advantage. He’s the adult. What could you have done? Please, don’t blame yourself. That’s how guys like Gerry control little guys like you. He makes you believe you were bad, that you did something wrong. He told you not to tell, right? He said your Mom would be mad, and even God would be mad, right?”
“Yeah, he did,” Kenny admitted, surprised at Rothenberg’s insight.
“If you don’t want me to tell your mother, I won’t. You’re the boss
.”
“I’m the boss?” Kenny straightened. “Then I don’t want you to tell her.”
“Why not?” Rothenberg was taken aback. He thought he had Kenny on track.
“Because she’ll be mad.”
“No, she won’t, Kenny. Trust me, please.” He knew it would be difficult for this abused, violated boy to trust a man after what he experienced. He believed the answer would be ‘no.’ Kenny surprised him.
“Okay,” Kenny agreed, “as long as you promise.”
“I promise,” Dr. Rothenberg assured him. “May I bring her in now?”
Kenny nodded, and Jake mimicked him as usual.
“Yes,” Kenny assented.
Kenny was beginning to trust him, something to build on. Rothenberg was buoyed.
***
The doctor left the room and returned with Jennifer. The Voice sat back to listen.
“We’ve had a breakthrough today, Jennifer,” Rothenberg began.
“That’s wonderful news, right?” Jennifer exclaimed. “What’s happened?”
“Sit down, please,” he motioned her to a spot on the couch between her two boys.
“Kenny and Jake have been sexually molested by Father Gerry,” he blurted. He could not sugar coat this.
Jennifer sat in silent shock. Her worst fears were being realized.
“Oh, my God, she screamed. Oh, dear God, no! How did this happen? How could a priest do something like this? Oh, my God, my babies! What did he do to you?” Jennifer was trembling.
She grabbed a boy in each arm and held on for dear life. She and the boys began to cry again. Jennifer’s perfectly applied makeup was running down her cheeks. When she realized that she was upsetting the boys, she tried to regain composure and tone down the hostility.
“From the boys’ description, there’s not much he didn’t do, I’m afraid.”
“How often did this happen?”
“Many times, but only during that weekend camping trip,” Rothenberg explained. The boys nodded assent.
“What are we going to do?” Jennifer demanded. My boys will get through this, won’t they?
“We are going to continue twice-per-week therapy sessions. The boys feel responsible, typical in child abuse cases. The abuser makes the victim feel guilty, which helps conceal his activities. It’s as if the victim is responsible for being chosen by his predator. That’s one of the many things we have to work on.”
“Gerry is a monster!” cried Jennifer. “Jake, Kenny, you have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed. He’s a priest, for God’s sakes! He betrayed your trust. He’s a terrible man and an even worse priest. He will be punished—I promise you that!”
“Jennifer, betrayal of trust is another issue we need to work on. Priests are often father figures, especially in a fatherless home. These acts are quasi-incestuous and create serious trust issues. The good news is the boys were not violated over a long period. Some molesters are able to obtain victims’ silence and assent to repeated assaults over months, even years. The victim is simply too afraid and ashamed to speak. Your boys trusted me, a relative stranger to them, with this secret. They’ve shown good reason and judgment. Progress over guilt and distrust in these cases is vital because they are major components of the victims’ syndrome. We need to continue to work on these two areas as well as channeling anger and pain. This is a breakthrough session.”
After an additional period of questions and answers, Rothenberg led the family out to the lobby. He uttered, “Good-bye,” and put his finger to his lips, gesturing for silence. To Jennifer’s surprise, he followed her and the children out of the front door. Once outside, Jennifer sent the boys to the car.
“Jennifer, I want you to call Father Jon and arrange a meeting somewhere other than your home or the church,” Rothenberg requested, scanning the area, his voice shrouded in mystery.
He was scaring her. Why did we come outside? What is he hiding? What is he afraid of? “Please call me Jenny. Everyone else does. Why the meeting?”
Rothenberg continued, ignoring her question. “When the meeting is set, drop off a note—don’t call—and let me know when and where. I’ll be there. Make sure Jon doesn’t put this in his appointment book. Tell him to make sure he isn’t followed, and don’t do or say anything about Gerry to anyone, including Jon, until we’ve had this meeting.”
“Okay, Doctor, but what’s this all about? What’s going on? Why are we talking about this out here in the parking lot?”
“I believe my office is being monitored,” he confided.
“What?” Jennifer was stunned at the revelation.
“Yes, and probably your house, Lakes, and the rectory.”
“But why? Who would do such a thing?” Jennifer puzzled, astonished.
“I’m not sure yet who they are or exactly what their function is. My sense is they minimize the impact of these kinds of events and limit damage to the church,” Rothenberg surmised.
“You have got to be kidding!” Her shock morphed into outrage.
“I wish I was. Will you schedule the meeting as discreetly as possible?”
“I’ll do whatever you say, Doctor, anything, if it will help Jake and Kenny . . . but . . . shouldn’t we call the police?” Jennifer wanted these bastards to pay for what they did.
“At this point, I think we can wait. Let’s see how this plays out. Hopefully, we can prevent other boys from becoming victims. And remember, your initial conversation with Father Jon will probably be monitored. I’m not sure we can trust him,” Rothenberg warned.
“Who? Father Jon? Of course, we can trust him,” Jennifer assured.
“He knew about the boys, Jenny. He’s the one who retained me. We need to find out everything he knows.” Rothenberg whispered. He knew this would jar Jennifer’s psyche.
“Father Jon knew all along and said nothing?” Her face drained of color. She swooned, caught herself, and regained her balance by placing her hand against the wall.
“Apparently so, but we’ve both known Jon a long time. He’s a good man, and my instincts tell me there were reasons for his silence. I want to know what they were and whether he’ll help us before anyone else gets hurt, okay?”
“I don’t believe this. He sat in my kitchen, ate my food, and recommended treatment for this ‘unknown’ condition when he knew, all along, that the boys were sexually abused?” Jennifer was nonplussed, betrayed by a good friend.
“Don’t judge him yet. He may have a perfectly good explanation.”
“He had better.” What explanation could there be?
“Then you’ll arrange the meet?”
“Of course. If we can prevent one more child from going through what my kids are going through, it will be worth it,” she decided.
“You are a remarkable woman, Jennifer. Go ahead now. The boys are waiting.”
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome.”
Rothenberg breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them exit the parking lot. She still has her faith. The church brought him this case, but those behind this cover-up were not his patients. They are my patients’ enemies, and I will fight them with every fiber of my being. This meant exposing Father Gerry and getting him into a treatment program or a jail cell, anywhere away from teenage boys. Jon would assist. Rothenberg was sure of it.
Chapter Ten
The telephone rang. Rothenberg answered. He knew who was on the other end of the line.
“How did the session go, Dr. Rothenberg?”
“It went very well. Today was a breakthrough day in their treatment,” Rothenberg seethed.
“How so?”
“I am not at liberty to say.”
Defiance? “Do you have any sense for how long treatment will continue?” The Voice inquired.
“This will be a long-term project. Most child abuse victims have feelings of repressed anger, guilt, and a sense of betrayal, especially when the abuser is known to them, or as in this case, is a truste
d figure. Getting in touch with those feelings and positively channeling them is one key. Reestablishing trust relationships is another. How long the process takes is anyone’s guess.”
“Does the mother know about the abuse?” The Voice tested. Will he lie?
“Yes, she does. She was informed today. She handled it well. I was able to persuade her that discretion would be helpful to treatment. Nobody wants the boys to become a public spectacle.”
“Did she buy it?” The Voice wondered.
“Yes, she bought it,” Rothenberg grumbled. The more he spoke to this ‘Voice,’ the more he despised the man. “It’s true. Publicity may have a negative effect on treatment.”
Antagonism in his voice? “That makes sense. Did she agree to keep things quiet?” The Voice inquired.
“Yes, she did. Anything else? I have a patient to see,” Rothenberg snapped, dismissing the man.
“No, thank you again, Doctor. I’ll talk to you soon.” And fuck you, too.
“Good-bye.”
The Voice turned to face the other men in the room. They’d heard the conversation.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think Dr. Rothenberg is helping those boys, which is, after all, what he was retained to do. I also think he’s done an adequate job keeping this quiet, so far. Still, I’m uneasy about him. I don’t trust him. We need to maintain surveillance and keep Parks probing for skeletons.”
“Anything found in his closet?”
“No. Doctor Rothenberg is either a sincere man or a saint. We haven’t found a thing.”
“Keep looking.”
“Oh, we will.”
“What about the mother? She knows now. She could be dangerous.”
“Her home and Rothenberg’s office are bugged. Parks will maintain twenty-four-hour surveillance on her and the doc.”
“Very well, then. We’re adjourned.”
Chapter Eleven
Pastor Jonathan Costigan was finishing up his sermon for Sunday when his private telephone rang.
“Our Lady of the Lakes, Father Jon speaking.”
“Hi, Father Jon. This is Jenny Tracey. How are you?” She fought hard to sound pleasant.
