Chapter 7
CRIME THE TEENAGERS' APHRODISIAC
A great deal more lies behind the alarming increase in crime among teenaged Americans than their desire for material possessions. Many factors are blamed, some authoritatively, some without much evidence. But to those people who daily deal with youngsters who have run afoul of the law, there are strong indications that a parallel exists between sex and crime.
Lt. Amos Mozler is the fictitious name of a big city juvenile police officer who was interviewed for this report. Because of his work, which is constantly under the pressure of the press, his superiors, and an often irate citizenry, he has asked to remain anonymous. Here is what he says about the rising crime rate among teenaged boys and girls:
"I'm not a psychiatrist or sociologist, but I don't have to be to know what bothers these kids who get involved with the law. I don't know the rudiments of it, either, but it is concerned with sex. Crime excites the kids of today. They like excitement. And I think they need it for sex need it in order to get over the embarrassment of sex and the fact that really and truly they don't know very much about it, despite the way they try to act so sophisticated and all-knowing."
Lt. Mozler has a greater insight into the young than he claims. According to Dr. Harlan Stevens, a Midwest psychiatrist, teenagers feel insecure about their sexuality and sometimes turn to crime to bolster it, show their manhood or womanhood, or increase the adrenalin of their own sexual urges.
"We're all familiar with the young person who tries, as other young people term it, 'to act big.' This is where crime often is motivated by sexual urges that the young person is not yet ready to handle emotionally. He is not ready for intercourse, is even embarrassed by it, so the performance of a crime will give him status, bolster his ego and permit him an experimentation with sex that he might not otherwise attempt at an early age. And for some teenagers crime is an actual aphrodisiac, truly serves to heighten their sexual desires."
Lt. Mozler, during his interview for this report, cited many case histories of young people involved in crime and sex. Some of the youngsters are presented in the following case studies, showing them as rebellious, crime-sex-oriented youths who by their very actions indicate that they are crying out for understanding, help, and a better example from their parents and other adults.
CASE HISTORY
Paul M. traveled in a gang from the time he was ten. Born of poverty, raised in it, he was a child of the streets. Both his parents worked.
When they worked. Often, Paul was left to shift for himself amid the rubble and grim of the slum neighborhood. Early in life he learned the ways of a gang. From the group he found strength and courage he could not know as an individual. And from the group, particularly the older boys who were the leaders, he learned how to steal, mug, break and enter, jump wires of a car, and, in community with the other members, make love to a protesting girl. He had his first such experience when he was fifteen. It followed the successful combat with another gang over a jurisdictional dispute.
"Man, that rumble lifted me up," laughed Dick, leader of the gang.
"Anything lifts you up," complimented another member.
The dozen or so boys laughed hard.
There followed a discussion of the night's possibilities. The gang felt inclined toward action sexual action, exhilarated as they were from the rumble. Dozens of possibilities were discussed and rejected for one reason or another. Finally, it was decided that the means to sex was this night deemed to be accomplished through sex.
"A bang," their leader told them. "I'm worked up and I feel like a bang."
The subjected was selected: A chick Dick, the leader, had observed on Avenue B; a girl who, amazingly, Paul knew slightly. It pleased him that this placed him in a position of importance with the gang. He supplied such information that he had, particularly that the girl worked nights in a candy store.
Then the arrangements were quickly made. There had been such capers before, but not with young Paul in attendance. Duties were assigned by the leader. Paul was to encounter the girl, Marie, as she left the store. He was to start a conversation and walk alongside of her until they reached a half-demolished building. The others would be waiting there. Paul was also assigned the job of suddenly grabbing her and forcing her into the building where the others awaited. Inwardly, he gulped when he heard his duties. Outwardly, he presented a pose of casual confidence.
"And because your job's the toughest," said Dick to Paul, "you have the privilege of being first after me."
"Thanks," Paul said.
The gang, dispersed in order not to raise the suspicions of citizens or police, made their separate ways to the broken-down building near the candy store. Paul, walking alone, wondered how he would react when faced with performing sexually before the eyes of his critical peers. He worried about it too. Especially did he worry about the matter of potency. He had heard that this sometimes bothered a boy, that when a girl was ready, he might not be. He wondered if there were something special he should think of in order not to fail. He wondered if there were pills he could take. But even as he thought of it, he realized some aphrodisiac effect from the rumble completed and the gang venture that awaited his attendance.
Paul was waiting outside the candy store as Marie left her work for the night. She was a pretty girl, one whom, in fact, Paul had had quite a crush on for some time. He felt his throat go dry as Marie stepped onto the street. She smiled, recognizing Paul at once.
"Hi," he said. "Whatcha doin'? "
"Going home," she replied. "What else is there to do around this crummy neighborhood?"
The way she said it made Paul think that she was hinting for a date. His heart flipped. He wondered if it could be true, if she really would have gone out with him had he ever asked.
"You walkin' home?" Paul asked, half-hoping that she had made some arrangements to be picked up by someone.
"How else?" she complained.
"Well, I'll walk along with ya," Paul said.
"Great," exclaimed the girl. "I hate walking these streets alone at night."
"Don't blame you," Paul offered.
As they moved down the street, Paul on the outside, the girl on the inside, closest to the deserted building and eleven strong boys who waited, Paul wondered why he was doing now, what he could not bring himself to do upon his own volition. He would have given anything for a date with Marie, yet he had never had the courage to ask. She was older, pretty, and acted very grown-up. Yet now, with the gang behind him, he was walking with her, carrying on a conversation, and acting in every way like a boy who was an "operator." From time to time Paul stole glances at Marie's moving body. He saw her breasts jiggle and imagined what they would look like bared. When he considered that he would soon know, he felt like running. But there was the presence of the waiting gang to deter him. This was a more evil fear than any crime or challenge.
"Are you still running with that lousy gang?" Marie asked in the way of making conversation.
"Yeah. And they ain't lousy," he replied.
"All gangs are lousy," she said. "Everything's lousy about living around here. That's why I'm working in the candy store. I'm saving money, and when I'm through school I'll have enough to get away from here. Far, far away."
"No kidding, is that why you're working?" Paul asked, impressed beyond his admission.
"The only reason," she said. "Why did ya suppose I worked?"
"To help out at home," he suggested.
She laughed, then said, "You mean I should work so my old man and old lady can have more dough for booze. Not on your life!"
"No, suppose not," Paul said softly, noticing that they were within a half-block of the place designated for Marie's abduction and rape.
Marie and Paul fell silent. As they walked, Paul noticed for the first time that the girl's body from time to time struck his, made an actual contact of breast to his forearm. Paul was awe-stricken. He wondered if the girl knew it was happening, even wondered if she perhaps intended the contact. If she did, well then it meant that she liked him, that she was trying to encourage him. He felt horribly upset, didn't know which way to turn: He wanted to save Marie from what awaited, yet he could not reject the dictates of the gang and its leader, Dick. He wished fervently that something would suddenly upset the plans they had made: Perhaps the appearance of a policeman; a counterattack by the rival gang; the sudden appearance of others on the darkened street. Anything! But there was nothing. Only the darkness, the click of Marie's heels upon the pavement, and the half-wrecked building that they approached.
"You know, you're a funny kid," Marie said as they moved forward.
"I am?" he questioned softly.
"Yeah. You're kind of shy. But cute."
"You think so," he said, still speaking in a low voice so as not to be overheard.
"Yeah. I've always wondered why you didn't go out with girls, why you haven't ever asked me for a date."
"You've wondered about that?" he asked, his voice rising excitedly.
"Sure. Why? Shouldn't I?"
"No, that's fine. Great, really. I just never never-ah, hell, it doesn't matter anyway."
They had arrived next to the building. Paul looked at the girl. She looked at him and smiled, then she deliberately brought her hand over a bit to brush against his. Paul wanted to take it in a sign of love. He wanted desperately to do this. But he did not. Instead, he gripped her hand tight, jerked her to him, then quickly brought his hand holding hers around her waist as his other hand shot up to clamp across her mouth.
Paul wrestled Marie into the confines of the building. She groaned shocked, muffled sounds. Once he saw her eyes. They blazed fire and sudden hate, scalding into his face as if they wanted to kill. Then he avoided her eyes and concentrated on moving her to where his fellow gang-members waited. Marie fought hard. She kicked, losing both shoes. She sought to free her pinned arms to do combat with her sharpened nails. Paul held her strongly, and as she struggled within the circle of his arms, he felt the rise of the passion that he had earlier doubted, had in fact questioned as a part of himself.
Within seconds, there were other rough boy-hands to assist Paul in his struggle with Marie. He released her as she was pulled from his arms. He stumbled back, happy to be lost in the rush of bodies that lurched to bind and gag the pretty dark-haired girl.
Paul's head buzzed with confusion. There persisted the muffled moans and stifled screams of Marie. He remembered the feel of her soft body as it had bumped against him, that feel that been intensified because it had, he knew now, come from the girl's own willingness. He remembered her words, too, those words that spoke of acceptance and desire, all directed toward him without his knowledge. He wondered. He tried to avoid looking at the place that had been made ready for Marie, a corner of a broken-down room with a mattress in the middle. He tried not to look that way.
"Hey, Paul, get up here," commanded the voice of Dick, their leader.
Paul hesitated a moment. Then someone pushed him at the back, saying, "Go on, man, it's your privilege, you know. You're right after Dick. And, man, you did a hell of a lot better than we expected you to do."
The compliment meant nothing. But his leader's command did. Paul moved forward. Then he stopped and looked at the girl on the mattress, thinking how beautiful she looked with a flashlight bean centered on her body, from which all her clothing had been ripped.
"Choice, eh?" said Dick to Paul.
"Yeah, choice," he answered in a low tone.
Paul stepped closer. He bent a bit. Two boys were at Marie's head. Each held a wrist flattened to the mattress. Her mouth was gagged, and Paul could tell that it had been crammed way down her throat. He could tell by the way her veins had bloated and throbbed. Her eyes had been left uncovered, though. He wished that they were not. She stared directly at Paul. Her eyes smoldered, and if eyes could spit and show defiance and hate and a trust betrayed, Marie's eyes did exactly that to Paul.
"Get ready, man," Dick said to Paul. "This ain't goin' ta take me long not long at all."
Paul watched as Dick moved to Marie's feet, held and spread by two other boys. He continued to watch as Dick reached forward and snapped away the last bit of panty cloth that still covered the girl. Paul glowered at the girl's breasts and felt shock for the way her nipples had indented as if they intended to withdraw from the reality of the moment and the scene. Dick, now on his knees and facing the girl, must have noticed the girl's nipples too. He reached with both hands and cruelly kneaded at her breasts, seeking, it seemed, to force life into the nipples, to make them straight and alert as if they were aware of his presence. But he could not. The nipples remained withdrawn, cuddled within the white moulds of breasts as if they offered refuge. They were an effrontery to the gang's leader. Dick savagely struck Marie across the breasts. Her eyes did not move. They stared past her first attacker, glued upon Paul.
Dick remained true to his claim. It didn't take him long, not long at all. And Marie had ceased her struggling. She only stared at Paul.
"All right, man, your turn," Dick said to Paul, pushing himself upright and making an adjustment of his open clothing.
Paul moved to Marie's feet. He looked at her, trying to view the nakedness of some objective body, not the form of the girl he had lured to a devil's den. His passion was still strong, made that way in part because of the leader's action preceding his own readied position for sexual assault.
"Go on, go on, there's others waiting," Dick said.
Paul looked at him. Then he looked at the naked girl in front of him.
"Go, man, go," encouraged Dick again.
Paul nodded. He prepared himself and felt surprise that he was ready. Then, avoiding Marie's eyes as much as possible, he lunged forward, duplicating the action and movements of his leader while he relinquished his virginity in view of his fellow hoods.
When it was over and Marie was given her clothing and released, Paul wondered verbally to Dick about the police. Marie knew him what if she snitched? Should he lay low for a while?
"Girls of this street don't talk about stuff like this," Dick said. "This chick won't either. Just steer clear of her."
Paul did. For the rest of his life.
"Sometimes an act of sex takes encouragement from crime, and this is the way it was for Paul," explained a police psychiatrist. "If it had not been for the successful rumble of the night, if it had not been for the gang plan for rape, Paul may very well have dated the girl, even felt himself her protector rather than the rapist he was."
CASE HISTORY
Three girls and three boys met at a drive-in restaurant. The girls were in one car, the boys in another. They were only slightly acquainted. They shared cigarettes and coffee and conversation for an hour. Then they wondered what they could do with the balance of the night.
"Too late for a show," said one of the boys.
"Who gives a twit about a show," complained a girl.
"I meant a drive-in, you know, for making out," explained the boy.
"Who needs that for that?" said one of the other girls.
"Well, come on, let's decide what's for kicks tonight?" asked another of the boys.
"I need hub caps baby moons," said the driver of the car that held the boys.
"Hey, now you're talking," said one of the girls.
"Yeah," agreed her friend. "Stealing's real kicks."
Everyone seemed to agree. It was decided that the six of them would travel in the car driven by a girl. They crowded into it, then slowly moved along neighboring residential streets, looking for some sign of the car carrying the hub caps worthy of stealing. They found it at a corner parked beneath a street light.
"Too much open space," complained a boy.
"Yeah," agreed a friend. "That street light is an open invitation to the fuzz."
The others agreed, all except a single boy.
"Well, if you guys are chicken, I'll do it myself."
"But not under that light," protested one of the girls.
"Watch me," said the boy, opening the car door and stepping out.
They all watched as the boy casually approached the car, even stood back and inspected it as if he were viewing his own possession. Then he stooped at a rear wheel, dislodged the hub cap with a screw driver, placed it beneath his arm, and went to the other rear wheel. He took the other hub cap and also collected it beneath his arm. And then he sauntered to the front of the car. As he was ready to stoop and dislodge that gleaming half-moon, a figure appeared, walking down the street and directly toward the boy.
The other youngsters who had parked across the street held their collective breath. The hub cap thief looked up and saw the stranger approaching. He did not run. He did not act other than casually and confidently. He stooped and dislodged the first of the front hub caps. And then the stranger was next to him. The boy looked up. He smiled.
"Kind of late to be working on a car, isn't it?" the stranger asked suspiciously.
"Yeah," replied the boy in a steady voice. "But I thought I'd better take these hub caps off and into the house before some smart-assed kid decides to steal 'em."
The boy walked to the other side of the car. He bent at the last hub cap to be taken. The man looked at him, then turned and looked at the string of middle-class homes that lined the block.
"You live in there?" asked the stranger.
"All my life," answered the boy. "Course I been away to school most of the time."
The stranger watched as the boy lifted off the last hub cap. The boy straightened and flexed his back. Then he said, "There, now I'll sleep better. So damn much crime and stealing going on around here, you just can't take any chances at all."
"Yeah, guess you're right," the stranger said in a more satisfied tone. "Well, goodnight. Be seeing you."
"Sure you will," said the boy.
He stayed by the car, pretending a final inspection as the stranger continued his walk down the street. When he turned at the corner, the boy walked to the car that held his friends. He climbed in, depositing the hub caps on the floor. Then the car sped off amid wild, young laughter, amid a new community of togetherness that had been achieved by the group through risk and crime and the stimulating effect it had on their young emotions.
They drove directly to a city park. There they shifted positions so each boy was with a girl. And then, in a harmony of aphrodisically-risen passion; they made love to each other, committing together a sign of their youthful rebellion against society, standards, authority, and expressing for the benefit of each other the lust that their young bodies could show.
It has been predicted that juvenile crime will continue to be a troublesome social problem for many decades to come, perhaps for the rest of this century. Many reasons have been proposed as the cause: Parental permissiveness, status goals, image seeking, improper associations with parents, family, and peers, and the population explosion.
All of these matters no doubt play a part in the rise in crime among teenagers. No doubt they will continue to contribute to juvenile delinquency for many years to come. But, according to authorities on the subject, sex is also back of it all, acting as an element that pushes young people toward acts against society, both as an aphrodisiac for their own sexual instincts and as a means of bolstering a sexual confidence that they truly do not feel. And what can be done about it? What can we do?
"There is one vital antidote for this important problem," says Rupert D. Villiani, a clinical psychologist associated with the faculty of an eastern university. "Sex education of the young must be brought into a realistic relationship with the problems that stem from sex. To date, I have found no adequate sex education programs in the public schools of this nation. This is monstrous! It is inconceivable that a nation that has made so many advances in such a short time should continue to be so backward in the way of the sex education of our young. And this type of education is the only way that we can adequately cope with the problems of crime among juveniles. Without it, we will continue to know the heartbreak and the waste of young lives."
It seems incumbent upon every person who has children to strive for sex education programs in our schools. Talk about it at P.T.A. meetings, present the question to teachers and administrators, and insist with all the might of a taxpayer that your children have a right to this type of education. It might be the very thing that keeps them from juvenile crime.