Stopping a Predator for a Day

“You loser!”

It was the nicest thing he could have said to me under the circumstances. I had just foiled the scheme of a predator to abduct a young teenage boy, perhaps two, between the ages of 11 and 13.

It was frightening. My knees were probably shaking as much as the boys’. But I knew I had read the situation correctly, and I was eternally grateful that I had been given the opportunity to help. It may have saved a life. It may have saved the friend of the targeted boy from a life of guilt and anguish by not being able to stop it.

It was a scam, actually. The two boys had been walking along a country road beside Lake Waramug in Connecticut two Sundays ago. The predator had been watching them – perhaps from his vehicle. One of the boys tapped a mailbox with a whiffle ball bat as he walked by. There was not a trace of damage to the mailbox.

Perhaps a quarter of a mile past the mailbox, the predator confronted the boys saying he lived in the neighborhood (which consisted of multi-million dollar homes overlooking the lake), he’d seen the damage they had caused to the mailbox and he was taking them back to inspect the damage and report this to his neighbor (the supposed owner of the mailbox).

Like most kids that age, they were fearful of an authority figure who was being so aggressive toward them and they foolishly started walking back to the scene with him. (They also foolishly told him their address, I learned later.) When I was their age, my friends and I would’ve been 100 yards away and over three fences before he finished his sentence.

As they were walking back to the mailbox, I passed them with my wife while walking our 5-pound fluffy Pomeranian. I overheard the predator threatening to call the police and asking them where they lived as they passed us. I walked maybe 10-20 steps more then stopped and looked back. My intuition didn’t like this situation.

I noticed the second boy lagging behind and not keeping up. He instinctively knew he shouldn’t be going off with a stranger, but he couldn’t abandon his friend. I also didn’t like the fact that an adult – a male probably in his thirties with dark hair who looks like the lead actor on The Entourage – was forcing his will on these kids. Who was he to play policeman?

I turned around and started walking quickly to catch up with the boy lagging behind. I asked him if he knew the guy up ahead. He said, “No.” I asked if his friend knew him. Same answer. I asked why he was leading them down the road. He said, “We tapped a mailbox with a whiffle ball bat – but we didn’t do any damage.”

My suspicions were confirmed. This was a scam by a predator to get one or more boys to go off with him – perhaps to be stuffed into a waiting van — never to be seen again. The predator didn’t seem to care that one boy had fallen significantly behind the pace. He had successfully separated the two.

My knees were wobbly and I knew my voice would be shaky as adrenaline had already taken over. I wasn’t used to confronting evil up close and personal, but I was determined it would not succeed. I got near the first boy and the predator, dragging my five-pound fluffy Pomeranian behind despite her repeatedly dropping her landing gear. (She didn’t like getting separated from my wife who was now far behind us.)

I called out, “Leave him alone.” The predator was probably shocked to see me and he was definitely pissed. (Is it OK to say that in a blog?) I told the boy to go back with his friend – he didn’t waste any time.

The predator said something about the mailbox and I said, “It’s fine.” He then got in my face and tried to scare me, too, saying, “What’s your name.” I returned the aggression getting in his face and said, “None of your business. What’s yours?” He said, “Basil.” (I’m not sure if that’s a real name, if it’s spelled correctly or if that’s a name he read off a mailbox.)

He quickly assessed the situation and realized there was an angry, perhaps irrational older guy with a fluffy five-pound dog who didn’t seem to be falling for the scam. “I’m calling the police,” he said. “Good,” I said, I’m sure they’ll really care!”

I then started saying to the boys in a loud voice as I walked them away from the situation, “You know you really have to be careful never to go off with strangers because it’s usually just a pervert who’s trying to kidnap you by pulling a scam.”

That’s when the predator started walking up the driveway to an enormous house (probably making believe he lived there) and shouted at me, “You loser.” It was music to my ears coming from him.

After the boys were a half mile or more away and safely on their way, and after thanking us profusely and enduring my cautions never to go off with a stranger again, we notified the park patrol people of the incident. We got our car and went back to the scene of the scam. The State Police showed up at the same time.

Someone had called saying kids were smashing mailboxes in the neighborhood. It must have been the predator trying to create a diversion and a cover story if he was caught – now that he had been seen up close and could be identified. He was probably 50 miles away by now. He was free to try the same scam again tomorrow somewhere else. Because he didn’t live in the house where he had walked up the driveway.

What has all this got to do with Personal Semiotics? Processing symbols is one of the most important things we do in life. I interpreted a teen lagging behind his friend who was being led off by an adult as a sign that something was not right and he was passive-aggressively communicating that. So by not getting involved more forcefully to save his friend, he actually saved his friend. I also interpreted the over-aggressive behavior of the predator — over a minor thing like a whiffle ball bat against a mailbox – as behavior more typical of a predator pulling a scam than a neighbor protecting multi-millionaire’s mailboxes.

My regret is that my emotions took over and in my haste to simply protect the boys and get them away from the situation, my intellect failed me. I should have called the predator’s bluff, walked up the driveway with him to see if he really lived there, called the police on him for attempted kidnapping and waited to see if he stayed or ran off to a waiting car where I could get the license plate number.

My only hope is that this was a first-time attempt for the predator and he was so scared at almost getting caught that he’s never going to try it again.

For me, spiritual health comes from listening to and acting upon the Divine guidance that is always there for me — even when I miss it. In this situation, I take credit only for observing, listening to and reacting to the symbolic messages I received. I am eternally grateful that I was in the right place at the right time and that I had the opportunity to help. I will be emotionally rewarded whenever I think of this event. And perhaps two lives were forever altered — just by being able to continue in their innocence.

In the meantime parents, please watch and counsel your kids. Even the boys.

# # # # #

Click here to order the paperback via Amazon.com.