I think she knew
When I was in elementary school, I would go to a babysitter's house almost every afternoon. There were other kids there too most of the time. We would play in the yard, go on walks with "puppy," build refrigerator box houses, and watch movies or draw with "Rick" my babysitter's husband. There was a gate that you had to climb, or when we were very young, had to be lifted over , to get to the bedroom. She kept the gate there to keep the dog from getting into the nice dining room/sitting room. We would go back there without her and after awhile, she was call for us to come out. Occasionally she would come back, but usually she just called for us. We watched movies like The Howling, or The Omen... always scary movies. And in the case of the Howling, wildly inappropriate for young children. I don't remember every detail of those times spent with him, but looking back at those moments I am sick to my stomach.
He would take me or one of the other girls into the closet. Lights off. and lay on top of us, kissing us on the neck and tickling us. We would wiggle and squirm and try to get away. I hated the dark, and this game was not fun for me. It was disorienting in there, and with his large body over me. He didn't put his whole weight on me really, he would just hover, but my legs were on either side of him, and he would touch and tickle... I don't know what he would do to the other girl. Once or twice were in there together, both underneath him... but he usually took us alone. She was much more advanced than me and once, again when we were very, very young, showed me where a man could touch you (on your vagina) and you would be helpless. It is a memory that haunts me now that i know what it meant - that someone had been touching her there and taught her that she was helpless.
It took me a long time to realize what was going on. My mom even asked me one time if anything had been going on over there - if they ever did anything inappropriate to me. I looked her right in the eyes and said no. I didn't want her to feel bad, and at the time, i really didn't know what happened. I just know that it was wrong. I think about the other girl often, because I know in my heart that he was worse to her. She was afraid of him, and would resist going back to 'hang out' with him in the bedroom. I also think about my babysitter and whether she knew. We called her Grandma and him Grandpa. And I think she did know. I have never told my family, my boyfriend, my friends, or any therapist about it. I want to find the other girl, and figure out what happened to us. I want to find his grave and spit on it. I used to want this memory to always been murky so I didn't have to deal with it, but I need to. It was wrong. He was wrong, and so was she.