Chris Pelster & Jim Bob Pelster

 This is much harder to write about than fixing dryers.  I think I need another day to let this one soak in.  It's hard to revisit this stuff.  I'll go to bed for now but I'll come back tomorrow and get down some memories and reflections about him.  

This guy Chris Pelster is the one that sexually abused Eric.

I first learned about this when we lived at Walnut Point Ct.  Eric and I were sleeping in mom and dad's bedroom on the floor.  I was 12 when we moved so I must have been at least 12 or 13 years old.  Eric and I were talking before we went to sleep as we often did and he asked me if I knew about the abuse.  I hadn't heard about it before.  Him telling me this seemed surreal.  I couldn't imagine something so serious, so awful could come to our family.  I had to think about how I should feel about it rather than how I did feel about it because I couldn't place my feelings about it.  My feelings weren't there.  I was just filled with wonder about what it must have been like for Eric and how I should be feeling about it.  Strange mix of emotions and feelings for sure.  

Then a few years ago Eric and I were spending time together and he told me more about it.  It was during one of his trips to Albuquerque, I think.  I may have happened while we were hiking but I think it was another time.  It may have happened when we visited St. Louis, too.  I remember some of the details.  How it happened throughout the summer.  How he was pooping blood.  How he tried to tell mom the first time it happened but she wasn't listening.  She wasn't attuned to him.  How when they finally figured out what happened dad was intending to go to their house and kill Chris.  How I was never around when this was all happening.  How Eric and Chris exchanged oral sex.  Chris the abuser.

Awful stuff.  

Then there was the time that Dana and I were abused at the feed shed.  There are a social at the Pelsters.  I don't remember Eric being there, but maybe he was.  I remember other kids being there.  I think Jim Bob was there but I can't remember that either.  What I remember is seeing Dana standing alone, or maybe with another kid or kids lined up next to her.  Chris told her to take down her pants to her ankles.  I remember her just standing there naked.  I remember Chris being there and being in charge.  I felt bad for Dana.  I felt somewhat surprised by her lack of animation.  I remember he standing there still with very little reaction.  Like she was just waiting to be told what to do.  She seemed powerless.  She seemed to have no agency for herself.  Poor thing.  She was just caught up in it.  I don't remember what I did or was told to do.  It seems like I had my pants down but it was something I was used to so it doesn't stand out.  I just remember thinking that Chris was not supposed to be doing this.  Whatever dignity I felt toward him was put into question.  Now I know he was capable of much worse than I realized.  

One memory of Chris is his large size.  So powerful.  Such big, thick hands.  

He also filled his shoes so much.  He feet pushed out the outside edge of his shoes and I remember seeing the strain on those shoes from his large size.  

Apparently Chris was adopted, but Jim Bob was biological.  There was something distinct between them.  They were clearly not biological brothers, and I don't know the details of it.  

I enjoyed playing on the farm with Jim Bob.  There was so much to explore.  So much to do.  Playing with the toy John Deer tractors.  Walking further than we were supposed to down neighbor's gravel roads.  Playing around on the hay bails and tractors and farm equipment in the shed.  Just walking around their big yard for whatever reason.  I remember one time following Chris along a ditch along the front of the house.  I don't know what we were up to but I remember his back to me and I was following him along that ditch, looking at his powerful stride.  I remember the strength of his hands somehow but I'm not sure what it was we did together that I would have felt those big meaty hands.  It just seems like somehow I have a memory of trying to hold off those hands and struggling against them.  

I remember the night sleeping on the sofa in the basement not being able to sleep and wanting to go home so bad.  Feeling like that night would never end.  It seems like I remember the room slowly changing from  dark to light and feeling comforted by that.  

I remember the time I stood next to Jim Bob next to the electric fence.  He grabbed my hand and grabbed the fence and it gave me a good shock much to my surprise.  I thought it was more interesting than cruel or painful.  Curious to understand how that worked.  

I very clearly remember the time we got looked at pornographic magazines in the cornfield on his neighbors farm.  I was so horny that day I said out loud that if a girl walked by I would have sex with her right there.  The overwhelming desire I was feeling was just stuffed down.  It was such a strong desire I remember.  I have no recollection of the images.  Just that they were florescent pictures, at least they really popped and seemed to have some of that 80's style and flair.  But I remember sitting in that corn field with Jim Bob and the the neighbor kid just feeling such desire.