Not in Kansas anymore

The letter came in a regular envelope. The return address was the local police department. I figured we had probably pledged money for the policeman's ball or something and forgot to pay and this was a gentle reminder to get my $20.00 in the mail. I absently tore it open and was already reading it in my mind (Dear Mr and Mrs so and so you recently pledged....) It took me a moment to register what it was actually about. There was going to be a town meeting of the neighbors in our vicinity (within a couple of miles) to inform us that a level 3 sex offender had moved in to our neighborhood.

I heard my illusions shatter all over the kitchen floor. A sex offender, in my neighborhood. My idyllic safe world was suddenly neither. I wanted to grab my son and hug him and tell him never to leave my sight ever. In fact he was not to go outside at all. He was to stay safely cacooned in my house where I could protect him. The reality came crashing home that the world is a different place than when I grew up. Ignorance was bliss. There have always been sex offenders and "funny uncles" but we never knew about them. They didn't have meetings in the local high school to tell you who they were and what they did. They kept them away, locked up longer. In the age of instant information and right to know. We all got the privilege of having our fears exposed and given a face.

At the meeting we got a sheet explaining who this person was and the specifics of his crime. He liked girls, little ones, under age 12. He was a repeat offender. His crimes were fondling and inappropriate touch with penetration (why didn't they call it what it was, rape?) He hadn't responded well to treatment in jail and had in fact quit or failed at the "program" and so would be monitored closely for a while. A while was never really defined, it was until his probation was done or they ran out of ankle bracelets or something. I stopped listening when they showed his picture on the big screen at the back of the stage. Twelve feet high. Twelve feet of menacing terror staring me in the face. He looked mean. He looked evil. He looked like I wouldn't want to meet him on a sunny day in the park. He might have looked like anybody normal, but not to me, not to any parent in that auditorium.

They wouldn't divulge his address but we already knew. I live next to the guy who knows everyone and everything that happens in our neighborhood. He knew which house he lived in. the guy had moved in with his grandparents after release. They are well known real estate agents, the kind with their picture on the signs that hang outside houses they are selling. I bet that was good for business.

It was apparent that a lot of people at the meeting were already aware of this new neighbor. Parents stood up to protest his moving in. The police said he had paid is debt that was mandated by the court and he had the right to live anywhere he wanted to. Parents said there was a bus stop at the end of this guys driveway. They petitioned the school to change it, but they wouldn't. So there was always at least two parents when the kids got on and off the bus. The guy liked to stand on the veranda and watch the kids. Maybe that wasn't what he was doing, maybe he was just getting some fresh air and having a smoke, but all the parents knew he was trolling for their children and they were not about to let him reel one in.

One of the things that struck me most about that meeting, other than the obvious ones. A lot of parents had brought their children some as young as six or seven. I am not sure that was a good idea. I certainly had no intention of bringing my son. I think it is important to be honest with your children and tell them the real dangers of the world in which we live. I am not sure it is a good idea to show them a picture of the monsters that live among us. Do they need to know who this guy is so they can stay away? I think they should stay away from anyone they don't know. We need to teach our children that there are mean people who could want to hurt them. We need to teach them how to be as safe as they can and what to do if they are frightened or feel in danger. I don't think we need to say "See that guy? Look at his picture. He is one of them". The world is a scary enough place.

I have never seen this man in person. I drive or ride my bike by his house and always look, like daring to look in the haunted house, waiting to see if you see the ghosts in the window. He is never there setting his trap for unsuspecting children, baiting it with laffy taffy and M&M's. "Paranoia runs deep, into your hearts it will creep". Truer word were never spoken/sung.

The initial shock fades a bit with time and we go about our lives. We try not to live in fear or let it dictate what we do and where we go. We know that sex offenders don't rush out out their houses with nets and nab children off the streets while we stand mute with horror unable to react as they scuttle away with our precious ones tucked under their arm. We know this in our heads but not in our paranoia. We know they are more subtle and that is even scarier. We take a different street to the park. We are more vigilant than before that meeting. My son does not know about the "monster" who lives down the lane. He knows about "stranger danger" and we talk about everything and do the best we can to make him safe. We don't know if the guy even lives there anymore. They tell you when they move in, they don't tell you when they move out.

Be safe. Give your children extra hugs tonight and hope you don't get a letter.