We were at a shopping mall in Virginia one afternoon. Javon had gone to get the car. I was waiting with Mr. Jackson by the exit with mall security. Somebody had recognized him and a small crowd had formed. He was signing a few autographs, waving to folks. It was a friendly situation, not a mob or anything. As Javon pulled up and opened the door for Mr. Jackson, this guy from the back of the crowd yelled out, "Fuckin' child molester!"

  I heard it, plain as day. I looked at Javon; he'd heard it too. We were just praying that Mr. Jackson had missed it. But after we got in the car and drove for a bit, he leaned forward and said, "Guys, did you hear somebody say something back there?"

  "No, sir," I said. "I didn't hear anything. You hear anything, Javon?"

  Javon shook his head. "No, sir."

  Mr. Jackson said, "I thought I heard someone say something very mean. I could have sworn. You guys aren't lying to me, are you?"

  "No, sir."

  We didn't want to lie to him, but we knew what would happen if we confirmed it. Hearing someone call him a child molester? That would completely shut him down. He'd close the door and vanish into his room for at least a week, and we didn't want that to happen.

  We drove on with nobody saying anything for the next ten, fifteen minutes, and then out of the backseat he said, "I would never hurt a child. I would slit my wrists before I ever did anything to hurt a child."