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At the age of nine, he said, he started watching her. She often walked around nude in her bedroom at night with the shutters open, and he would peer in from below the windowsill—“a moth drawn to her flame”—for an hour or so every evening.He watched her for five or six years and never got caught.A Carnival cruise is a great way to explore new places, try new things… There’s nothing like the experience of seeing an amazing musician or comedian take the stage and give it all they’ve got, and Carnival LIVE brings top entertainers to the greatest venue of all: vacation.Choose a Carnival LIVE cruise for your next vacation and you won’t just enjoy an unforgettable live performance, but all the great stuff a Carnival cruise has to offer — think stunning destinations, delicious dining options, bars, a spa, mini-golf, shopping, waterslides and more.Carnival guests are already experiencing amazing performances, featuring legendary artists and hilarious comedians turning up the heat on one already-hot vacation.

As Foos drove us to the motel, he took the opportunity to sketch out the story of his life for me.

With the assistance of his wife, he cut rectangular holes measuring six by fourteen inches in the ceilings of more than a dozen rooms. He went on to say that although he had been wanting to tell his story, he was “not talented enough” as a writer and had “fears of being discovered.” He then invited me to correspond with him in care of a post-office box and suggested that I come to Colorado to inspect his motel operation: After reading this letter, I put it aside for a few days, undecided on whether to respond.

Then he covered the openings with louvred aluminum screens that looked like ventilation grilles but were actually observation vents that allowed him, while he knelt in the attic, to see his guests in the rooms below. I did this purely out of my unlimited curiosity about people and not as just a deranged voyeur. As a nonfiction writer who insists on using real names in articles and books, I knew that I could not accept his condition of anonymity.

His aunt Katheryn liked to sit at her dressing table with no clothes on, arranging her miniature porcelain dolls or her collection of “valuable thimbles.” “Sometimes her husband was there, my uncle Charlie, usually deep in sleep,” Foos said. Once, I did see them having sex, and it made me upset. She was mine, I thought.” I listened without comment, although I was surprised by Gerald Foos’s candor.

I had known him for barely half an hour, and he was unburdening himself to me about his masturbatory fixations and the origins of his voyeurism. He told me that he was a virgin through high school.

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