Chapultepec - Moskau – Mexiko City
There is a cellar and a pair of adolescents and José. Juan Juarez, the boss, and his girl for everything, Irma, act as torturers. It's the last stage of the ritual. The heathen sacrifice of the Spring King. Planned was that the new king will sacrifice the old king. It's useful. Raúl should have been the new king.
Juan Ramirez the boss of the Organisation thinks
It was planned that my new assistant, in this case Raúl, would kill his forebear personally. Because then he would have been vulnerable having been involved in what they now call a murder. And I would have had a means to put him under pressure. But he doesn't seem to be a simple one. I suppose he has the same illness as had José. He is a queer and I realised too late that in fact they loved each other to the extent that they are able to sacrifice their career to safe one another. But I can't change my plans now. My people are looking for him. Things have gone too far, the whole organisation knows it and I would loose my face if I would officially admit that I have chosen the wrong one. This Raúl is a soft Homo, a real one. I thought he was like me, borne to be master of these people and having simply to play like them. But as it now seems he really succeeds to be in love with José. He will never have any chance in the role he has to fulfill in our organisation. I will get rid of both of them, José and Raùl, discretionary, so that it will seems to have been an accident. I don't want to begin again with an adventure like that one with José. If there hadn't been my debts to this queer Contrageneral McDuff, who is in fact my boss, I would have liquidated him much quicker. And not waited so long. But now I have McDuffs agreement to proceed to José's liquidation I will do it quickly. This has caused rumours which are not good for my leadership.
I wanted to show them I was still capable of blood shedding rituals to frighten these critical elements in the organisation. That's why I choose to use a traditional ritual which imposes on the Indians and the whites. And this ritual is a feast of violence and can only strengthen my reputation as somebody who doesn't fear neither society nor police and who takes no heed of moral. In all high cultures, here in Mesoamerica and in Asia with the Aztecs and the Assyriens, these rituals were practised, I had to learn it in my studies and it was no profit for me. At least now I can use it for my end. It's like this with people. The predecessor has served and has to die enduring terrible tortures to soothe the Gods for the crimes our organisation has committed. And it's better him then me. This is good too, because people enjoy the thrill and are awed. Of course the names of the Gods have changed, previously it was done in the names of Wotan, Quetzalcoatl, Baal. Now it is done in the name of order, obedience, freedom, prosperity and the corporate identity. Previously there were priests who did it, now it's the managers, the justices. This realisation hit me when I was in the jungle with Kevin McDuff and fought as a voluntary against the rebels. All of them idealistic chaps and they are a real threat to our wealth. Under my instructions Raúl will mark José's body with a red-hot iron with the following sentence: I have betrayed the organisation. And we will torture all his vulnerable parts so he will hopefully die of exhaustion and pain after the other two will have been misused and killed (accidentally) by him. It will look like an intern settlement. It's a demonstration of my power in the organisation. I will have produced a lot of hard porno video stuff which I can sell bit by bit. As it is hard on the frontier of the legal it be sold excessively dear like hot buns and will bring our organization a lot of welcome new fund and I will be able to use them to frighten the blood out of the refractive members. McDuff too will be happy to have got ridden of this clumsy, queer person. He is a weakling, a fagot, monster of the nature and besides all the time dreaming and unrealistic and bringing our organisation and the Contraguerilla into danger through his scruples. This beautiful body harbouring such an idealistic and weak mind is an insult to the Gods. And he is a traitor having made a treaty with our enemy, this Gandarian who even works with the Yankees' secret service. This Gandarian certainly got a lot of information about us by José. The local police will do nothing, they are bribed all right and are afraid of us. We want him to cry, this beautiful weakling, cry his soul out of his body in his last living hour. This will be a pleasure to be able to look at him dying slowly under painful extreme agony. And I have a nice long knife to kill him if he doesn't comply himself. Such a long time did I have to watch this bad game. Now I have Kevin's OK I'll finish with it as soon as possible before Kevin changes his mind. He was such a good pal, was Kevin, and gets entangled with the mother of this brat. I shudder. I'll never loose myself to marry a girl which pleases me. They all expect it from you, of course, and I let them have their hopes, but it is nothing for me. If I only had known how much he detests his son. And there is a rumour that he even married his mother. That got him the aura of the holy and the ridiculous .These Irishmen! We Spaniards are more foot on earth.
But now it's more then an hour late. I don't trust it, you never know what happened. Perhaps the remarks of José really persuaded him. It would be the first time this unrealistic brat could explain himself and it speaks against Raúl. José has always been a hermetic book for me and was always behind the moon. But only on a superficial side. He seemed to be weak and pliable. But what he sowed was dangerous. A kind of Jesus Christ, who was just strong because of his feebleness. I am suspicious.
Of course Juarez doesn't know that Raúl is under police arrest since yesterday night. After José had begged him to go and tell Gandarian that he was in the clutches of the Organization and he had succeeded fleeing from Juarez insulting him, he got suspicious. He wanted to go to Ramon but he was not there. Another guy answered the phone and told him Ramon was away abroad and could he help him? He got suspicious and hang up. He didn't know what to do. Didn't know where to turn to. Only knew he didn't want to get involved any more in this organisation. As always when he didn't see any issue in a problem he lost his head. Went out on the street and needed a shot. He had some money the boss had given him and bought something which he injected. Got high indeed and met some colleagues and a former lover with which he drank some glasses in a bar. He got in a tangle and there was a raid and he was taken to the station. He dreaded being a grass, but then in his intoxication he uttered something which was taken up by the police. They kept him and with torture they screwed everything out of him. He was just fed up and did not want to obstruct them. They put him in jail and let him await a trial. Thinking about what he said he now fears for his life.
Juan Juarez knows nothing of this. Only later will he realise it, but he suspects something. The idea of Ramon spying at him leaves him no quietness. He thinks
These natural spies never leave you alone and it seems that this Raul is a sensible nature and could be bent by such a person. The ones like Gandarian never give up, never accept it when they have lost the battle. As I heard even our plundering and destroying his flat and his furniture did not intimidate him against our calculation. Its all my fault. Considering the easy possibility to manipulate this chap, José, I did not take the necessary steps to get rid of him in time and let the things evolve without doing anything till now its nearly five after ten. I could slap me in my face. Because meanwhile the others, my enemies in the organisation, did not sleep. They want to change my organisation from top to bottom so that they are on top and its last time I react. And in this case I have to inform Perez my assistant. The urgency plan is taken on. I grab and want to compose the number. Grab my handy.
"Hold up!" I hear and can no longer move. The doors have been thrown open, I feel a cool metal pistol mouth at my left temple. Oh shit! Cautiously I squint around. All issues are blocked by those blokes of the police. All rifles aimed at us. Now it's definitely too late. But even if I am in the hands of the police, there is a great chance that my "friends" will get me out of it. I have influential friends in important positions and my "clients" will not declare against me. The only problem is José. He is certainly disloyal. I hate him and want to kill him and certainly it was his "friend" Gandarian who called the police. And this Gandarian is dangerous as he has resembled much material about our organisation. And José will be his crown witness. So I act swiftly not to be too late. I take out my knife and push it into José's loins. My knife slipped and José has a deep wound in his thighs. All right, it's the same, weak as he is, he moans and gets unconscious. It shows that he is not capable of being anything in our organisation. His body hangs limply in the ropes. Probably the policeman could have prevented me from doing this, but he did not, he is a friend of mine. He was around me all the time because now he seizes both my arms, twists them on my back and forces me to kneel holding a pistol on my temple. He is quite soft to me and I know that maybe he will even let me run away. The most important thing is not to be registered, they will find somebody else to blame. I will be whitewashed by friends at the police. But José who has lost quite much blood, and Daniel, Rahel and Irma were already without conscious and are carried out to the ambulance. I know now, my last action has failed. Did I desire it unconsciously? Maybe I knew that one episode of my life is now finished and that I have to get out.
But as it is this doesn't come into my mind. I just try to find out you left my down. I suppose it's this Raúl who told the police. As soon as I'll be out again, I'll have to track him by my organisation. and get him killed
At the Hospital
As José wakes up, he lies on a bed in the intensive care unit. He feels: It hurts terribly at my groins and thighs. Through the windows I see that it is still pitch dark outside, it's still in the middle of the night. I was without consciousness. What happened? Dimly, I remember the corporal harassment I endured yesterday. I fainted but then suddenly I waked up on a operation bed in some passage way in a hospital being wheeled into a surgery room. There was a nice sister who smiled while I looked nearly inadvertently into her brown eyes. She said: "We will stitch your wounds." I shivered but the belly made me such pains that I couldn't think. We had already reached the operation room and before I could utter anything, a doctor gave me an injection and I lost consciousness again. I don't know what happened then, but now I have just stitches all over my thighs. I have waken up from the narcoses and have pains. Before I fainted I just heard the master hissing through his teeth: "The cops!" And then the cold blade on my thighs and this terrible pain in my loins. Then I fainted. Now I awaken here at the hospital. What feared happened, the police certainly checked my identity and now knows I am one of them unwanted paper immigrants without papers from central America belonging to the criminal scene. I know how they dispose of such elements, they just push them over the border and into the arms of the Nicaraguan authorities and so on till I'll be in the care of the Honduras authorities again. There I will be disposed of in the prison camp, till my father who is known everywhere as the read headed monster, will get me out again. And how he will take revenge on me for my failure! I can well imagine. All my limbs tremble and I don't want to heal again. But they, all these chartered healers, who want to make career, look well to it that I go on living, they are not interested in my further prospect. There only wish is to do their work perfectly! I don't want to think about this, only sleep and forget everything. But I can't because everything in my brain turns around about my future, like wild. I see me, sitting in a crowded cell in the filthy town prisons in Cigucigalpa, mistreated and raped. Or bound around a tree trunk in my fathers camp, fledged and awaiting the delivering pistol shot from my father who will kill me at last. And afterwards being chased by devils in the flames of the hell! As the priest so colourfully depicted it. All the soothing effects of the narcotics have vanished. I am fully awaken. If only they would give me some stuff. How Juarez and Irma always explained how much proofs they had against me. And they will use it if they are caught by the police and they certainly are. The only person who believed in my innocence and who declared he would defend me if I was caught is Ramon. Could he defend me with the overwhelming evidence against me? Needless to speculate, now they have ransacked his flats and I was forced to write a notice where I stated I had baited him into an ambush he certainly will not do anything for me. While they put the knife to my throat and pressed my testicles they forced me to speak a message onto the tape they left in the recorder well in sight in the middle of the room. I cried and tried to be courageous but had to subdue myself in the end. And how they laughed! Making such a fool of me, as they hated me as the master's cherubim. I had to laugh devilishly into the mic and say: "My friends always know where you are and will never leave you alone." I tried to add: "It's not true" But they hurt me so much and forced me to say it again. I am such a failure, if I remember what they did to me later, it would have been better had I let myself be tortured to death without doing what they wanted. Of course the slip of paper where I wrote before they came: "I'm found out. They come for me. Whatever happens it is not my fault. I will be happy to die. Please forgive me the trouble I give you." is so well hidden in the water container of the toilet that he won't find it. Probably he even brought a criminal charge against me and it must be understood. I feel more and more miserable having given away my only friend. Martin and Raúl cannot be any more my friends if they want to keep on. But why did Raúl not turn up when he should have liquidated me? Did he believe me and has he really succeeded fleeing when I told him to flee. Perhaps he will save me because I told him I love him. But then I must be realistic. Even then, he cannot help me, he has to save his own skin. If he is realistic, and he must be otherwise he wouldn't have survived on the street till now. I hope he is now safe somewhere beyond the borders on the flight. But why did the police hear of this personal liquidation of Juarez and why did they intervene? He has so many friends there! It's a riddle and I can't solve it.
But now I hear, adding to all the misery, the high voice of Daniel, crying, probably out of his dream, in a voice spilling over itself: "No please Jose, please stop, it hurts." Now all falls down on me, I realise how without issue my position is now. What else could I do, there in that cellar, in the grip of Juarez! I had to dance with them. They had abducted these children, orphans. to uncover me more thoroughly and to the pleasure of the two.
I look tensely in the direction the wailing came from. I see him lying on the bed besides mine and on the other bed, oh no, God forbid, his sister Rahel, lying with bent up legs on the iron hospital beds. Dismay, despair and freight take hold of me. They are so young. Nearly children, although certainly beyond innocence. 16, 17 certainly, that's how Juarez wanted it. They were abducted by Inge and I was forced to hurt them, in presence of Juarez, making it seem likely I had done all by myself. They could, they said, throw the whole felony, on me alone. I am a destitute foreigner not desired, without influential connection, not capable of defending myself before law. I really am lost. Was it terrible what I did? At their age I was treated not better but I don't remember it. But now I think, hearing Daniel's dreams, that it must have been terrible for him. I will be punished and did not want to do it! I don't want to swallow this cup. But now I realise what went on. They got their pleasure on my blood. The judges will be all too happy to find somebody on which to put the fault, not letting the influential drug bosses free! I am the scapegoat! Again!
I loose my head, want to climb out of the bed and run away. But the strength fails me. And I don't realise all the tubes connecting my veins with sacks full of blood. They keep me back, when I try to climb out of bed and I get tangled and fall. With my left thigh where the stitches are, I lie on the floor. Everything hurts and pains terribly, my heart is throbbing. I feel the pulse everywhere. I can respire only in short abrupt gasps. Now it's finished, there is no issue! And I make such a fool of myself. With last strength I pull off the remaining tubes, without taking heed of the pain, I stretch my body, reaching with my arm to the bed table grasping a glass which is there, pushing it down to drop and closing my hand to a fist, the broken pieces cutting into my palms. But I am held back. My hand is packed and a I hear a known high pitched voice: "Don't do it José, my friend!" I look up. It's Daniel. He has tears in his eyes. But why has he to intervene. I say: "Why you, Daniel. I tormented you so much, betrayed you and you must hate me. You will certainly want to be avenged by testifying against me." But I feel that there are tear in my eyes. Does he want to keep me alive to torment me later on?
But he says: "You are not guilty. In hell they force you to do things you would never do. I too was forced to injure you. I often realised you didn't like to do it, especially there in the torture chamber below the roof. And now I realise with shudder that sometimes I even felt a sexual arousal when I looked at you suffering. I am a perverse type, José, I am so guilty." And it comes to him: "That's what they told me at the home. The homeward used to take off my trousers and pants and finger my dick. And gave me afterwards a chocolate to keep quiet. The first time I was about to throw the chocolate after him, especially as I didn't like the kind of milk chocolate with this horrible green inlay. But then I was punished and thought better of it, because we never got any chocolate there, it could be bartered against the friendship of an other inmate. But the slimy type began to think that he could finger me anywhere because of this chocolate he had got free from a cleaning firm and didn't like either. Suddenly I threw it at his head and the stupid brat got a blue eye, was ill for several weeks and told the head teacher that I had done it. I was punished again and the others were told that I was a kind of mad biting dog and treated me as such, till I couldn't endure it any longer and told the director the truth. Of course they didn't even throw out the brat. I suppose they didn't believe in what I told them. They said he is left-handed and a gay, he lies like an Indian. They made me reproaches that I, a social case, without parents or family, left handed and queer, had seduced him and it was the hell for me. They kept me only because they loved my sister. The teacher treating me even worse, the fags teasing me as a faggot. Other teachers asked of me what I had had to do for the first.
Indeed I love José and tell him: "I love you so please give ne a kiss." I say. Just direct, without introduction. He doesn't listen, continues: "But you so much put at stake for me. It was so terrible to look at your being for me at the butcher's chamber under the roof. All without personal interest. And I didn't even have the courage to stand up for you." "How? In the situation you were bound up in the ropes with your head in the water bucket. Delivered defenceless to the two strong chaps." And Daniel has to say: "But you were so nice, your body is slim, your eyes look so gentle. I love you. I need you. We are both alone, I am an orphan and have nobody in life as friend. I don't want to go back to a home. And Rahel is in a real bad condition."
Suddenly, I, Daniel,stop. Have I said too much. Will Jos make fun of me? As they made fun of me in the home. Especially Eric I loved so much. It was a mistake I told him so. Because I had to suffer so much.
No, I shall continue. I take my courage in both hands. I have begun showing my feebleness, now I'll continue. I say in one breath: "Promise me you will remain my friend and we will spend the remaining time of our lives always together. I feel so bad." I cry silently. I embrace him without a word.
"Sure I will remain your friend for ever." I say to soothe him. I hope I will keep my promise. But I know, we are all on our own, young and not masters of ourselves. The officials and social workers reign in fact over us and we have to do what causes them the least effort. And sure enough they get active. "Hush, what's that. Why are you up. Back in your bed. And you bad boy have even capped your tubes." It's sister Marie. She has become attentive that we were up and hurries us back into our beds. But I hum to me while she fixes the tubes. I am happy, I have a friend and I even love him. I have somebody I can confide in. How long, before they realise it and part us?
Ramon had a difficult time trying to find Koja who has disappeared yet again. He tells his story himself: But this time I decide to remain at the task till it will be done. I'm staying somewhere at an airport in Europe. To soothe my conscience I phone Alain. Asking him how José is. Alain tells me that my whole penthouse has been burglared by the Mafia. José vanished at this occasion. The police thinks that José worked together with the Mafia and isn't doing anything. They have just sealed the localities. I don't agree with him, José feared that the other Mafiosi would come and get him. And now he was right! I am sure he told me the truth because I have experience in judging people. And I who assured him of my support am not even here. I understand now his nervosity at the last day and in fact, now I remember, during the whole time he stayed with me. I make myself reproaches. I could whip myself for my carelessness. But now I can't come back. Koja has been seen and I have to follow the track till I have found him. I implore Alain to do everything to find José. Can he search again the apartment for me to find a secret message from José? But everything is in the hands of the police. Inspector Juan is in charge. That's good. He is indebted to me and although we quarrel all the time, we are quite pals. I will phone him. I don't belief in Alain's zeal, I suppose he is no great friend of José. But I will phone him back. I am troubled. José has a kind of manner, which is not appreciated by all. When he is in trouble and doesn’t feel secure, he behaves like a impertinent rock baby and might offend people so they do whatever they can to him harm. For me who understand him, his behaving is not natural and I don't feel having him before me. He is in fact a vulnerable unsure young man but people who do not know him get to know him more intimately, think he is simply impertinent. That might worsen his fate but of course he thinks that it's better for him to boast. He is very vulnerable despite the aspects. But how to convince Alain. He lives of simple exterior impressions and his is a simple world of feelings. I do not try.
But as I finish the telephone, friends inform me that they have encountered Koja. That they know now where he is. As I come to my friends, they tell me that he sits in a prison. But contrary to what they said, they don't know which one. He has been arrested for the smuggling of drugs. Now there begins an expensive search through official bureaux. Relatively soon I find out where he is. And go and visit him paying the appropriate baksheesh to the guard who leads me directly to him. It's a shock seeing him again. I startle My dear Koja completely apathetic, looking at me out of his wonderful green eyes which are wide opened. He is high. He no longer possesses the ring I gave him. It is terrible to meet him now in this frame of mind. He who was so self secure after our stay in the mountain resort. He is completely apathetic. If it continues like this, Koja, my Koja, will be completely finished in a few days. He who even Simon loves so much because of his wit and humour. Simon, who in general doesn't agree of my way of life and of my acquaintances because I am an eternal cause of hindrance to his political and marital schemes. There is only one possibility to avoid that another good man becomes a ruin. Act to get him out of here quickly in the next hours.. Getting Koja out of prison as soon as possible. Otherwise he will die of apathy within days. He sits in prison because some presumed friend or rather lover indicated him to the police. That's what my friend being member of the KGB thinks. He tells it to me because he is indebted to me as we worked both in Mexico for the CIA. And of course because I pay with hard currency with which you reach any aim in Russia. How to win the course against the time. Anything needs time in Russia and I don't have any. Koja is getting nearer to giving up his self with every day he remains longer in prison. José needs help too.
By now I know from Alain who read it in the papers, that the police has taken a stronghold of the Mafia and the boss Juarez and one of his women have been arrested. They were molesting three victims who were brought to the hospital but succeeded to flee. Alain has also inspected my flat again with the police and they fund a note of José in the water closet of the toilets. It's a kind of SOS and discharges José of being an accomplice of the theft in my flat. But I never even suspected it. Not from José for whom I would even put my hand in the fire. But it discharges José in the eyes of Alain and of he police and I can undergo the necessary steps to ask them to look for José. It's a bit daring, thinking that the police would search for me a simple call boy and petty drug dealer. But I have always been daring. I don't think Alain will do anything to find José, not after José turned down his offer and preferred me to him. But Juan owns me a return to the help I provided him when the state was looking for these Guerilleras. So I phone Juan, the detective at the police. It's my statement about the Mafia which brought them on to the address of Juarez. They had picked up a member of the Mafia, a Raúl M. who was on a drug tour and he told them about the execution taking place in Juarez quarters. But he didn't know or didn’t want to say where this was. He had been expected to play an important part in this ritual but had obviously got cold feet, had looked for me (why did he know me?) and as he didn't find me he got drunk and was caught when buying drugs. He was obviously quite at the end of the rope, because he told the police all he knew and they keep him in prison for his safety as they say. I implore Juan to keep him as long as possible so that I can question him when I get back from Russia and this will be pretty soon. I now ask Juan to look for José , but I don't succeed. Juan for himself would do it. But the other do not cooperate. And the whole thing is complicated. They put José in a safekeeping place and he run away and has gone underground. Neither Alain nor Juan are looking for him.
I am in a dilemma. I must remain in Russia to free Koja, but there is José who needs my help. Koja was first, so he gets precedence. And José has disappeared. In Russia everything proceeds slowly, but I know where Koja is and I want to see him. The authorities, as I am told, want to state an example, also there seem to be no definite proof that Koja is a dealer. He had drugs on him and I don't make myself wrong ideas. And proofs can always be forged. In order to subsist Koja would do anything and I do understand him. But I can't persuade the officials to let Koja free without legal action. No amount of money seems to be sufficient. They insist upon legal steps being taken and I have to look for a good solicitor. As it seems he was engaged in a band engaged in drug smuggling and there happened a murder and they want to charge him with it as they didn't find the others. I sit in my hotel room, brooding about this issue, when Juan tells me that José cannot be found and nobody wants to look for him. Now everything is up the spout and I am on my last leg.
As always in such situations a consult the Tarot.
I mix the set, grab for a card and....take the ten of Pocals - 10 full pocals before a red background! The nine pocals on lower ranges are filled by water flowing from the highest pocal. Binah, Malkuth und Kether are covered by a cloth emanating from Kether. Let's say that I am mildly surprised by the result. I am neither happy nor satisfied. If I were only a beginner I would give up my aim and think that the tarot is only a fake. But I am no beginner. I know that Tarot has many faces. So I take a second card. It's the high priest. It means the matter is in good hands and will proceed despite of my endeavours. It's revolting because it's so obvious. The solution will be shown to me by my inner leader. For the moment I just can sit down and pray for it. To whom do you pray in this situation? I mean if you are no stupid Christ of course. For them it's always clear, they pray to their impostor. But they would not pray in my case, because my love, which they call shame in their utter arrogance is a sin. And they can't stand to it, they do it only in the hidden. For me it is clear, I will pray to sandalon, the archangel of Malkuth. Half an hour I meditate about Sandalone. And the path leading from Netzach, the chaos and new beginning to Malkuth. And loo, when I wake up, there comes another telephone from my friends. To invite me for dinner. I can't do anything, my solicitor can reach me anyhow, so I accept because it offers me the possibility to forget about my troubles for some hours and something will arrive into my mind hence.
As I come back to the hotel, there is a fax by my solicitor. He has succeeded in his endeavour to get a hearing arranged about Koja tomorrow afternoon. And thanks to the commitment of the solicitor Koja is only condemned to prison and can get free against a caution. I go to him on the spot. I am a positive thinking man. As they all are in our good American society. I bought tickets to fly back the day after and have decided that the same day I will fetch him at the prison to spend the night in the hotel. I have money and know the right people! Have engaged a powelful attorney. I am like Nick Knatterton. Everything which is good I succed in. I want to leave Russia as soon as possible. It's a nice reunion but its not private. But I don't take heed. Even with the guardian looking on, I kiss Koja on his mouth. Fetch the high grown chap with my arms, help him up, guide him that he opposes me and look at him. His clothes are really shabby. He has meagred, looks haggard, but is as beautiful as he always was. I still love him. We embark in the solicitor’s car and he brings us home. In the hotel lobby I say good bye to my attorney and don't know I will need his help again in less then two hours' time. In the lobby there is a shop where you can pay with foreign exchange and where they have acceptable clothes. But it's like running the gauntlet. Koja needs quite a lot of time to make his choice. And everywhere western male and female tourists are looking on and are buying gifts to their love boys or girls. I am loosing my nerves especially as I long to be alone with Koja in my room. When a bald headed American tourist blinks at me as if I were his accomplice I decide to finish with it. I take a pair of jeans of the size Koja wears and a sweatshirt, the necessary underwear, a pyjama and tell Koja to try it. He doesn't react. I have to go with him in the cabin and help him try it. He just keeps it on. I have it put on my room account and pull Koja with me, into the escalator and into my room. Leaving the old clothes to be destroyed. I take a special room for Koja and, as it always must be in stories, there is an adjacent room free with a connecting door (who says that something like this is not realistic? It could happen also in day to day life. You only have to believe in it and it will happen!) In crowded Moscow in a luxury suits area, a room free which I did not reserve? But I correct myself, I reserved it in advance thinking to use it for if I did find Koja, paid for it and used it all the same for...OK. That doesn't interest you. My appetite is simply insatiable! My purse too is full of holes because in this hotel, the Kilton, they stress the point that they don't want sex tourists but everything is allowed of course in Russia as long as you are not tight-fisted.
In the lift there are other people and I must restrain myself not to look at Koja as if he were a furniture belonging to my family. But then at last we are alone in the room, my room, the door to the other being open. We sit opposite and look at each other. Speechless. At last I can fully appreciate the vestiges these terrible time left on Koja's face. Such a long time didn't I see him apart from some furtive glances. Since he left with Hilde he has become elder, more mature. I stand before him, look at the height. He has grown and has become quite handsome, with his blond hair, his green eyes. I feel my longing for him mounting. Impulsively I grab his shoulders with my arms to bring his head to me to kiss him. Too late I realise that he is not for me. He loves girls. But he doesn't recoil. On the contrary, he cuddles up to me, points his mouth to kiss me. It's been such a long time I longed for him, we kiss abundantly. But then I recoil. Look again at him. He is in bad shape. His face haggard, his cheeks hollows his eyes sunken. I stand there and in spite of his bad shape I am attracted to him. Would like to make it with him now at once. But I think he is not I am, I like men, I know it now, But he likes women and it would not please him. He looks at me without speaking and I think that's him. But I am mistaken. He would like to say thank you, but he is to shy.
Let us tell Koja further on
When everything got bad and worse, I still had this hope lingering in my mind that Ramon would come and pull me out. And these last months I didn't know how to get out of this mess. But how to tell him? You don't be effusive between men. It's ridiculous. And I think he is so speechless because he doesn't love me. I suddenly realised that I don't have his ring any longer. I kept it so long. But I had no money left and had to pawn it. But that was only in the last instance when I couldn't imagine getting along any longer. Shall I tell him about it? No, it's too ridiculous. Perhaps he would even believe that I love him. I don't need him! And anyhow, why does he so much think of this matter. I am too proud to say anything. I only say defiantly: "Look, I don't have your ring any longer. I gave it to Clara and she sold it to buy shit." I see how he shudders by the word shit. So I continue: "By the way, I need again some of it." And I look at him, imploringly: "Do you have some, please." As if I would do everything for it. But of course I have some with me. But he simply looks at me. I think in a sad way. But of course everything lately looked so sad for me. Now I regret what I have said. All taken, he was a fine pal to look for me. Why do I have to hurt him now. I don't know. But I can't take it back. Nevertheless, his stare makes me sweat. Does he believe me? Without any reason I correct myself. "No." I say "I sold it some days ago to buy me something to eat." But I have worsened it. He now scolds me. It's too much. I do not need a father, any longer. I am off age since a long time, am I not? So I say, to annoy him (Hoping that he will leave me alone at last): "I have betrayed the nice hours we had together too. Have had to confess everything we experienced together to Blam and his assistant Will." Well now it's out. Now he knows what a treacherous fellow I am. Why does he want to love me, I don't deserve it. I expect he is now angry and throws me out. But it's frustrating. He doesn't react. Says nothing. Just staying here looking lovingly at me. He frightens me, this chap. Can't he react like any normal sinful man. Can't he bite back. Does he have to be such an angel, forgiving everything. He certainly doesn't forgive to Blame and these people. Why does he have to treat me differently? Actually I am too nervous, loose my temper. OK he got me out of this lousy shit hole. But why? Blam told me he only likes young men. Nevertheless I did not betray him. But what now. He will want his gift for having helped me and will drop me. And as I know me, I will not take long to build my next shit. Why didn't he let me rot in my hole. I want to finish with it, certainly not play his thankful lover! I know these foul smelling westerner tourists. Now I throw to him, and hope he will let me drop at last: "I don't need your fucking help, you only want a service for it." But then again I regret having said it. He still stands here like a statue, looking at me. I swing my arms around his shoulders and loosing my control I shed hot tears. Why, just I, who am no sentimental ape?
And now the ball is again by Ramon
Now, at last, the ice between us two is broken. Why is it always so difficult between two friends the first time they see each other again after a long interruption? Such a lot of questions have been asked, what shall I answer first? I decide for the most unimportant, if there is any. But a ring is only a material problem, even if it was the one my wife gave me when we first met and it is loaded with emotions. By the way it has also a stone which is very rare and I am sure he gave it away for nearly nothing. Anyway the other chap made the good business. And he did, because he sold it to a friend of me, a merchant, for a high price and I have it now again in my pocket. But I don’t say anything. It’s it typical of the mood Koja is in, that this materialistic thing was the first topic he brought up. "But Koja," I say. "You really don't have to make yourself reproaches because of this ring. What matters, is what was written there in the letter I wrote you. Remember, you thought I had infringed upon your most private things and didn't want to speak to me, even on important matters when you quit. But there in the letter I wrote it, didn't you read it? What's a ring, it's only some metal. But important is friendship and love. It cannot be destroyed by a missing ring."
But why do I speak about love to Koja? He must find me boring, such a men fucker who can't leave it. But - wow - Koja pulls out a letter from his trousers, shows it to me. And it's the letter I wrote him, in Davos, before he went away with Clara without saying good bye. It's crumpled, shows that it has been everywhere, probably also read thousands of times. It needs no commentary. Now the tears are running down my cheeks. I'm not ashamed and trying to keep them back. I am no half-breed macho. I can stand to my feelings. Like Socrates and Aischylos in the good old times. I pull Koja to me and kiss him. Even he seems embarrassed. Muttering to himself, I think, that he is no girl. "Really" I say, sobbing. "I am so happy to have you back again with me. Excuse my girlish manners. But I am not going to change my character. You have to put up with me. And I grip him and look into his eyes, "You too are happy to be with me again, I think. But I had to endure such frights. I was so afraid to have lost you for ever. Thank God now you are here. It's a gift from heaven. But why did you not have trust in me. Why did you not contact me after your difficulties with Blam and Will. So it was of course simple for them to put you under pressure. Because you had run away after having defended yourself. I had to force him, showing him photos from his underworld activities - Oh yes, he had them all right although he succeeded by his false behaviour to do as if he was a well to do citizen - well he had to cringe back and my suspicion that you had defended yourself against his attack is right. Well, my attorneys brought him before court and soon after Blam and Will had to leave the country to escape being arrested by the police and avoid a scandal. Such blood and family politicians with such a scandal, it would have damaged the success of their party. And he forged your signature and presented me a so called accusation of you to have been molested by me.
I got so excited. Now I stop. Out of breath. Koja has stepped back and looks at me, unbelieving. “Really, You didn't suspect me as a killer, did you?“ he says, unbelieving. I laugh. "And why not as a vampire! Also now I realise you are really a nice chap and have the right feelings to be a wonderful vampire. But I never believed even a second that you had killed except by self defence. You had to steal to get the means to live, perhaps also to make gifts to Clara, but never you would do anybody harm. And you would never murder out of pleasure. I "persuaded" Will's attorney to let drop his accusation. It was not difficult as he himself didn't believe in it. And the ones who had furnished him by the fact, had now fled to the Bahamas or whereever. The police is not looking for you and I have come to bring you back to a civilised country."
He protests. "You imply that Russia is not civilised. It's an outrage. It's my fatherland." "No," I reply," don't tell me fairy tales, Lithuania is your fatherland, but as your parents emigrated from Russia and are not rich, you were expelled from there when you returned, a pennyless drugaddict. They themselves told me so. They are not better than the Russians, Yourcenar's darlings." He looks at me in awe. "Ah, you know more about myself than I thought. Am I so interesting?" I cry out: "You have always been for me, but you don't realise it."
I continue. „What exactly happened there, in Blam's dacha. He never told me the truth and I am very noisy as you know." Again I laugh. I want to give him a new kiss as I look at his wondering face, but I refrain. He is quite shy, I think. But of course he looks differently at me as he did last time in Davos. Do I detect some love in his looks? I wished I would but of course... I can't afford to get a rebuke a second time. Especially as he did not respond to my allusion to the vampire just before. No, I should drop false hopes! I open the hotel fridge, take out a bottle of Vodka. There is no whisky in this goddamned country of potato eaters! But I long to have a drink. There is something lurking ahead, I sense it. Koja's liberation went too fast. The police will come back to get more baksheesh. I pour two glasses and he drinks. Drinks the glass in a gulp. „ Just says; "Well, Blam saw me in the street...." then falls asleep, begins to snore. I have to postpone it. Carry him on to the bed in the other room and lay him down. Anyhow, he is light like a fly, has had nothing to eat for weeks. Later on he will tell me the following:
Why did Koja flee to Moscow:
Later on, when we will be well back in Acapulco, sitting together on my terrace with view on the bay, Koja will tell me his story. And I will never forget it. Here are his words:
"I had seen him, Blam in his best, wearing a pair of dark glasses and a false beard, in the streets. I knew him nevertheless, despite of his clumsy disguise. It was when I was trying to subsist, Clara having left me and taken everything with her. He had chased me though I had tried to hide. I did not know him but he inspired awe from what I had heard about him. There were lots of rumours in the streets about him going around. But as Clara had left me, I was wretched, needed money to pay the drug dealers. I had to take the shit. And nobody was going to finance it. I was looking quite awful now and had therefore difficulties finding supporters. It was impossible to sit somewhere on the street and seek alms. I was too old. And now I was dry, I needed the shit absolutely and was going to do anything to get the money. This Will saw me and realised I was despairing. He said he had some job for me,in the transport business, where they needed tough guys. There would even be a possibility to pass the night somewhere in a shelter, he said. I was suspicious. Will never told the whole truth. But I was too anxious to get the money and the shit. Well - he brought me directly to Blam and when I realised it, it was too late to run away. I was pretty finished by then! There were two more heavy built bodyguards there. Blam cried out I had stolen him something, the last time I had been with him. It was true, but not relevant. That's why I never wanted to go to him. They seized me and undressed me. Naked I was standing there before them. I tried to run away. I used my fists to get my a way to the door. But they held me firm, chained me to a stool. I was bound, completely at their disposal and they sipped something in my mouth. There was something in the broth which both aroused me and made me tired. Dozing I realised dimly that they made things to me and finally I drowsed. When I woke I was still chained naked on the stool and shut in the coal cellar. Or at least what had been a coal cellar. I didn't think they used it now for this purpose. It was pitch dark, cold and damp. You heard the rats running about. And even... well I still shudder thinking how it is to feel a rat smelling and even nibbling at your big toe. They left me there for several days without telling me what they wanted from me. Every day somebody passed, gave me some broth which tasted awful. I would have preferred leaving it, but they forced it upon me. It must have had something in it, as I always got sexually aroused and it made me drowsy. And afterwards they did unmentionable things to me. I felt pains everywhere. But still they didn't tell me what they wanted of me. I realised it was no longer for this theft that they kept me their prisoner. And I was freezing, bound in a hurting position in chains and was hungry and thirsty. My detritus were everywhere. It stank. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer. At last somebody came and unbound me. It was now at last Blam. When he offered me again his goblet and looked at my body bound offered open to him, I got to my last extreme. With terrible pains I unwound myself, kneeled down, licked his trousers. He looked down at me, realised perfectly well that I had stiffened because I was longing for somebody to love. I don't know why, I am obviously especially perverse, I had begun to love him as my torturer. He laughed, then scoffed: „I see you are longing to be taken by your torturer." He whistled through closed teeth. "You are really a soft degenerate homo, as I like them. And you deserve being closed into this cellar like an animal you really are. Look at your thing! It's disgusting how it bulges your underwear." I had no pride left, I acquiesced and said: "Yes please, it's insupportable to be like this and to feel your strong body so near. Please take me, by the rear, if possible." Tensing to sense the pains of his thing penetrating me. Far at the back of my brain there was the hope that he could be softened towards me if I behaved like this. But not only. They had poisened me with this drink and I behaved funny. But then I realised how many sides there are in a man. But it worked. In fact, his trousers swell. But he continued: "If you agree signing this document you will be freed from this cellar and you'll even be entitled to suck my.... And he unpacked it to let me see it. He laughed and continued: "How big your eyes get. You are a devil. I know you lived with this Ramon and were not even 14.”
Now I realised what they wanted of me in fact. It is true that you, Ramon, took me up when I was very ill in the streets, when all others left me there to die as a foreign urchin they thought I was. I was small for my age, undernourished, but I was then out of age. Maybe I looked very young, but certainly nobody took me for fourteen. I was ill. And you took me up and asked nothing of me. And you did not drop me afterwards, like all the others had done. Because they had a family or a wife and a career! They promised me everything only to get sex from me and paid only with very little cash. You took me up, cared for me, were like a father for me. You saved my life and did not give me in to the police who would certainly have sent me back to where I came from. But you never asked anything from me in return of your caring. In the contrary, the only time I tried to seduce you, and I am sometimes terrible, you refrained. I saw that you liked me, but I could not like you and you refrained. You called that awful maid of you, which was always cyting passages from the bible and did the things to me which you would not want to do! That is why I was so ungrateful and bad to you. But enough of it. Back to Blam: He asked of me that I should sign a document. He said: "Sign this accusations against Ramon and you will be free. It must not be true." He said with his diabollic laugh. He will come behind bars without a proof and we will be freed of him. I didn't believe him, he would not let me free after what he now did to me. He would not deliver me to the police, certainly not, that was not in his plans, one of his aids would simply bring me back to the country I came from. Never in life did I want to make wrong accusations against you. I would gain nothing. Perhaps I would have done it if Blam had been different, more trustworthy. But here, I couldn't. I did not want to exchange him against you. Because you were always so nice to me. As I said, I was nasty. Because I was insulted that you did not honour my advances.
(All this I write although I do not like it. I am not so good and needed a lot of willpower not to do it with him. Now I know it was not worth it. But I would not react otherwise if I came into this same situation today. I am unfortunately fixed in my views and am not flexible enough. Nobody thanked me for it till now.)
But I will continue:
He did not abandone. Wanted to break my will. Continued to keep me in chains. Hoping that I got ill and would agree to escape against my better knowing. And I got ill, was apathetic, feeble, nearly without consciousness chained and frozen in this cold cellar. But I never did accept to write anything against you, Ramon. But then I must have spoken in my dreams. Told them it was nice with you. And they fabricated something, wrote it down, brought me up to his office and wanted to force me to sign it. It was one night, I kneeled on the floor as I was to feeble to keep upright. My legs kept falling in. But Will held both my arms and I knife to my throat. Blam standing before me, read the letter. I knew it was my last moment. I didn't want to sign and I would be killed. What sense to end without fighting. Even if I don't like fighting! I used a ruse. I said I would sign if they let me go. When they let me, I scribbled something, which looked like a signature, but then got up with last strength, kicked into the balls of Will. He let me go running around the room, holding his balls with both hand. I tried to grab the paper with my hand, wanted to tear it up. But didn't succeed. Will had recovered, came and tried to hold me back. He seized me and tried to push a stick into my asshole. I took the ball point pen I had signed with and stuck it into Wills cheeks. And again Will was jumping around the room shouting I had killed him. Then Blam took a knife from the wall and tried to kill me. But then Will ran into him in his wild dance, and he lost the grip on the knife. It fell on the floor. I took it up and stuck it into his chest. There was such an effusion of blood and Blam fainted. Will didn't take a heed to me and run away, crying for the murderer, thinking I had murdered Blam. When I saw it, I ran away . Naked as I was I ran out of the room, lost some time looking for some clothes in a adjacent room. Luckily there were some gardeners clothes hanging there on a chair and a shovel. Both with plenty of earth on them. I put them on and ran out of the house. Only when I was outside, already well under the way did I realise that they were full of earth. And they had worn them. I realised that they had already shovelled my grave!
And then for weeks and months I was on the flight. I had to hide, keep underground, didn't dare going to a doctor for my pains everywhere. I was living in the cellars, in the streets. But I thought they were looking for me because of murder.
As I said I didn't know that Koja still thought he was guilty of having killed Blam. But by then Blam was far away from our nebulous country, enjoing life in the Caribics. And that's why Koja didn't get out of the plane when we stopped in Zurich Airport. And I thought he was still in love with Clara. And he so much longed to know how she was. To look for Clara in Zurich.
Thanks God he came with me to Mexico and is now staying in Yale, living in Simon's flat and studying.
I could have told him that Blam and his aid Will were in perfect good health though living now somewhere in South - or Middle America. They had tried to blackmail me with this letter. But they could not do it with me. I showed Blam a paper which showed irrevocably that he had contacts with the local Mafia (previously my father's beer.) and they preferred to emmigrate, giving up a political career in Switzerland. They both belonged to an ultra nationalist party keeping up the moral and the worth of the family. But that's another story. I told Koja much later about this, when we were sipping tea together on the terrace of my villa in Acapulco with view on the beach.
But then I was not there, Koja was ill, starving, full of guilt somewhere in Zurich. In the emergency unit of the hospital they had catered his worst wounds and had not asked for a passport which Blam had taken away from him anyway. Then he passed the frontier went back to Riga where he had his parents. And from there they expelled him to Russia. He landed in Moscow where I fortunately found him.
That was later, that Koja told me that. Tonight he drowsed and I brought him to his bed. It's day and I don't sleep. I watch television. Suddenly I hear a loud bump and Koja moaning. I run to Koja's room. He is lying on his back on the floor besides the bed. I try to lift him back into bed, but he is heavy and suddenly wakes up. Recoils. What happens? Out of sleepy eyes he looks freightened at me, says: "You? What are you doing here." Then he pushes me off, gets up, puts on his underwear and runs everywhere in the room looking for his other clothes. "I am sorry to have disturbed you. I don't know what I am doing here. Work is waiting. I am sorry, Jimmy is owing me a lot and I have something to hand him over. He is expecting me." Now I am angry. What does he think he can do with me? Something to hand him over. Could it be some shit? I take Koja by his arms, look him into his eyes and thunder away. Yes, I can thunder too, like Zeus. "I have followed you up to Moscow, have freed you from prison, and now you want to leave me just as if I were a nuisance. Do you know how much I paid the attorney and how much I bribed the fonctionaries? Also they call it gifts. You are now something like an investment. I am not going to let you go like this. Hear me, what do you want to bring to the said Jimmy?" I stop, exhausted trying to keep him. He wants to free himself but I hold him. I don't want to present him with an invoice. I love him. "And?" he answers, sulkily. "Certainly you expected something for helping me out. Let's do it here and there and then I will have no debts against you." And he tries to kiss me. Now it's too much for me. I slap him in the face. He cries like a babe. I shout at him: "Stop it." Suddenly he changes. Cries and excuses himself.
Just then somebody knocks at the door. Just the worst moment. Koja sits on the bed, has tears in his eyes and holds his cheek. Everybody can see that we had a row. I go to the door. Open it a small bit. it's the waiter. I say: "Can you bring us two sirloin steaks with fried chips and a bottle of Chateau Arborec 1952." "At once, sir." He replies murmuring something else under his beard. But I don’t realise it, as I am to absorbed with Koja. As he leaves I close the door and go the window. From the other rooms comes a wailing. "If you think I will eat! Forget it. I am your prisoner but I won't let myself buy with food. I am not hungry." I go to the window look out into the courtyard knock on the glass. I want to let go everything, go to the airport and fly back to Mexico. My house on the seaside at Acapulco. The sun, the sea, and the fun riding on the waves. And here its cold, there is snow and Koja's wailing. Sulky. Unsupportable. But then I think about it a second time. I say to Koja: "Don't you want to make holidays with me, riding on the waves? You'll never earn so much money with your shit as I am going to give you." Now he looks up. "Really, you want to take me with you. dirty as I am, giving himself for pleasure, drug addict and ill. And even pay me more then I would earn here. How much can you pay?" "As much as you want, Koja. I want you to live with me." He laughs. A terrible hoarse laugh. "Don't make fun of me. I know you have a wife and a son, although you never told me. The Schmidts told me. It gave me a blow, I tell you." That's the reason he wrote the letter. I take a deep breath. Reconsider what to say. Go back to Koja..I try to explain. "Well, my wife is living with somebody else in the jungle of New Guinea and my son is grown up and a professor. They don't need me as much as you do. You need an education and I will give it to you. But please Koja, don't object to everything I tell you. OK I am privileged but I want to help you and others with my money. Its not my fault I have the money. I paid quite a lot for it in my youth. Lets make peace." Koja has changed his mind. He kindly accepts that I sit besides him and give him a kiss. "How can I thank you for your kindness with me. Just before you fell asleep you mentioned Blam. What was with him? And I think you had a lot to endure because of him. He is no longer in Switzerland, somewhere in the Caribic, I think. Lately I saw him in Mexico City. But Koja flinches and shrinks back even further away from me. He is sitting there on the sofa, shrunk into a small bundle, shivering. I change the subject. "Now you are back," I say" I won't let you go again. I so much missed you. Was so much alone without you. And never did you even bother trying to contact me. You must have endured much and you had my ring. You knew and I told you, I would help you anytime you were in trouble.„ He doesn't answer. Squatting there on the sofa, holding his body tight with both legs and arms. I hear sobs. I go to where he sits, kneel down before him. How I wished to kiss and pet him. But I don't dare. At last he looks with his green eyes furtively into my eyes. Now I caress him over the hair and hold his head taking a long look into his eyes. We are both mute. At last, he mutters below his breath and I strain to understand: „But you were no longer in town when I needed you. After my last affair, this unhappy hold up I did for Clare, and which failed and when even Claire chased me with the help of her parents. I didn't know where to find you. Then I was told you were in Berlin.“ „Who told you?” “A boy from Juarez’ Organisation I just met by chance. Furtively. Because of course they didn't know me any longer. Any contact with me was forbidden." "They knew where I was?" „Yes, they know everything about you." I laugh nervously. It's a pleasure to know that the Mafia is so much interested about your whereabouts..
James told me that Juarez had arranged everything to have you killed. In Berlin, he said, where you lived. You were getting too much information. I needed and wanted you and travelled hitch-hinking to Berlin. I wanted to warn you, because I love you.“ „But I saw you in Berlin!" "Yes. There on the sidewalk. That was so dangerous for you. That had been an ambush. They had caught me and used me as their koj. They were hiding just directly behind me. And you realised nothing, wanted to speak to me and I showed you to go away. You didn't understand. And all the time they were directly behind me. I don't understand till now why they hesitated such a long time before striking. You know Borsalino and so on. I tried to ...“ Now the remembrance comes back to me. As I bent down, to greet Koja, thinking he did not recognise me, he pulled me suddenly away and the pistol shot hit him instead of me. And I, who thinks to be so smart, didn't realise it! Koja continues: „You fell and my blood splashed all over you. They thought you were dead. And let us lie there." „But, then, Koja, you have saved my life! How can I thank you?“ He is sulky. "You know how, let me have some shit." "Never!" I say. Angrily he turns away, huddles together again. I want to kiss him but he pushes me off.
I get angry, suddenly want to tell him that I always wear a bullet proof vest and that everything was for the cat. But I luckily refrain from telling, because I would have regretted it bitterly. And… Well, who knows whether such a vest would have been of any use in such a short distance. He must feel some love for me because otherwise he would not have risked his life to save me.
If they would not have seen me, my whole body spoilt by blood, they would have followed me. So they such left me lying as dead on the sidewalk. I stood up and run away without seeing that Koja lay there. Again such an act of God's cynicism. And when Koja would have been killed, I would be inconsolable. If only he would not be so dependant on these drugs. I would so much like to give him everything, but not what he now wants. I would never be able to forgive myself. I sigh. Then I exclaim: „Really, Koja, your blood saved me in Berlin. It's our blood which keeps us together. In ancient times the German warriors used to open up their veins and mingle their blood. We are now together for ever and ever and I won't ever let you go. I will be ever indebted to you. For my life and for having mingled our blood. You wanted to make an everlasting friendship with me!“ He answers: „You owe me nothing. Yesterday, you saved me from this rat hole in which I would certainly have died. We are quit, and I counsel you, don't charge yourself with a drug addict as I am. You will always have difficulties and nothing to brighten up your mood. And besides, what pleasures do you want to get with me? Look at me. Am I beautiful to look at? And besides, you don't know everything about me, I have..."
But he can't finish, because I seize his head and give him a deep kiss on his mouth despite his trying to get away from me and his moaning. I keep the hand on his mouth while I say: "Don't abase yourself! You are the most beautiful chap I know, besides José and David. I love you. And I will help you to get free from the drugs. What else do you want. Look at where you are now? You need a friend and I want to be this friend.“ But my kiss has already changed his mind. He seems happy and coils to me, while I continue: "I am still certain that you are very clever. You experienced a lot of drawbacks, because you are not enough careful of yourself. I will always help you when you are in despair.“ At last Koja is relaxed. Feeling we are now together. No longer each for himself, but one for the other.
“Go take a shower and put new clothes on." I say. He sighs. "I'm too tired. I need something to get awake. Give me some shit, you have it, I know! You took it from me when I slept. It was in my pockets and it isn’t there any more."
I don’t say anything, I reply: "I have ordered a fine meal. I have bought you some nice new jeans and a leather jacket. Also a Simpson T-shirt. Featuring some blond half bred chap, carrying his hair like the waterfront of Manhattan. That is now especially in with us in the West." Koja makes a Grimace. „And you did not let me choose myself?“ I exclaim. angry: „Have you seen these fat Western tourists Crowding the shops and buying clothes for their one day sex objects? They stink, their belly sticking out of their too narrow trousers. Do you think I want to mingle with them? Observing how they stare at you. Their spectacle rimmed, bulging eyes staring in a weird way at you? You do not deserve it. I won't have it. I have travelled all the way to get you out of their clutches."
He looks at me, with his green eyes, dazzled. Then suddenly he bursts out laughing. "So you are jealous because of me? Really, even with José and David lurking behind?" I get red. But I am happy. Koja my love is so nice when he laughs! He goes into the bathroom. Shedding his clothes on the walk, letting them drop on the floor. He has such a nice back. Lucky his girl friend. I hear the water running and he singing under the stream. Automatically I pull up the clothes. To throw them away. First emptying their pockets of the drugs which he did not find. Because I want to throw them away before the police finds them, at the airport or anyway when they search us. They will certainly, I know for sure. It must be an ambush they planned.
Suddenly, I am just bending down, the singing stops. I hear his steps and he comes into the room. Stark naked. I feel his body, running into me, losing his stand, nearly falling over my body. He curses between his teeth. "What are you doing here kneeling down over my clothes!" I look up, my stare just on the height of his sting. Such a nice body. Automatically I do what we perverse queer creatures always do. Now I really like being such a monster. With this lean body, where you nearly don't see any hairs and ...! Of course he is only bones and his skin is full of scars and welts. But so slender. While feeling myself get hot and excited, I mutter: "You are so beautiful; Koja. Certainly you must be a runner with the women." Now he reddens a little. He says: "I wanted to ask you if you would join me under the shower." Funny, he who called me a boy fucker, way back. To hurt me. I don't understand! I stutter, of pure joy. "Yes, certainly. But then I would have to undress and I can't guarantee about my behaviour. You know, I am no woman, I only have one hole! And behind. You don't like people like me, you threw it at my face when you left me for....was it Claire!" Koja's hand pets my head and I wish I could suck it. He replies haughtily: "You really are holding up, aren't you! But I have changed. I never really liked Clara. But now I fuck with men, it pays more and it's nicer. And you are much nicer than the average pimp I get. Even considering your age." What age? I don't have any age, as Valeria told me. But I can't say anything. Vow! Koja really likes me! Now I don't regret my having come, even so far up the north into the cold and rain! We take each other into our arms and kiss. He holding straight up to me. I feel his mouth on my left ear and hear him muttering: "You were always so reserved, so cold, as if you would not like me! And I so much expected you to come out to me. I went with Clara out of protest. Thought it would help to pull you out of your reserves. But she completely swallowed me up." Even if I can't really believe him, this is too much for me. He has reddened I thiknk because it's always difficult to open oneself to another. I kept back because I was shy. I told myself he was not like me and did not even dare asking. Was I really shy, or did I still listen to false moral beliefs? The letter he wrote me when leaving afflicted me. I want to forgive and forget. I say: "Please let's forget. I don't grudge you anything anymore, have forgotten everything." He looks at me with big eyes and continues: "Still, I can't forget it just like this. I just wanted to annoy you. I did not mean it. Now, I have a great experience behind me. Have lived more than I wished.. With this experience with Clara. I realised that I was not attracted by women, but by men only. I can't work to earn money, I can't and don't want to beg because I am too old. I earn my living as a street rent boy and it rather pleases me. I would earn it well if it weren't for the drugs, all my money goes away for them. When you first met me. I was going occasionally with lovers. I did not need it, earned enough by begging. But I soon began to take shit to better endure what the lovers did to me. And now I need it even more. The lovers I meet who are paying me, are not necessarily the ones you love. I certainly tried to find work, illegal work, I do not have a permit. But it's so hard, the work you get like this, and I was nearly killed..... and yes... .“ I look at him. He has no strong constitution, thin, without big muscles. I can't imagine him carrying heavy cases, or scrubbing tubes, even standing at a sausage machine for eight hours on end. If I were entrepreneur I wouldn't employ him. But I imagine him quite well on my bed... Ok let it be. I would give him nice jewellery to embellish his already nice body... but let's not dream. He continues: “There were female westerner tourists in your age but also much younger, who travel here to have cheap sex." I smile. He continues: "I don't like to do it with women." I think of my mother. My father had a lot to do, running his so called chain of cinemas, but especially looking for women. He was always "working over hours". In the marketing business, he said. And who had to do it with my mum, that which everybody likes? What I think at least. Of course her "big boy", her Ramon. I did it with everything from everywhere and she tried everything and her charms on me. Therefore I hate women. I don't only just not like them, I hate them!
But Koja speaks and speaks and doesn't stop. I have to act. I can't wait. I throw my trousers, my shirt away, soon my underpants whirl around the room. All of a sudden I see myself coiling naked to him. hugging him, pressing his body hard on my breast, kissing him everywhere. Now at last I dare it. Koja likes men! We stand under the shower and lather each other. Standing body by body, we feel the warm water dropping on our hair, our body, sliding on our skin while we excite ourselves. "I so much missed you these last years, and now. vow, I can feel you, cuddle, kiss you. I love you, Koja, and loved you always." He looks at me. "And I supposed you had no feelings for me. And God, what I did to rouse you. Nothing happened. I doubted in myself. Had you said this earlier, I wouldn't have run away with Clara." I can answer nothing.
Way up these old times I would not have done anything with Koja. Even when I knew that maybe he was also earning a living with unscrupulous sex seekers. It would not have been fair towards him, he was too dependant on me. But now time has elapsed. I have longed for Koja too much. It’s up to him, and only to him to decide. I don't want any longer to submit to moral prejudices
I Ramon Gandarian the heir of the richest citizen of the richest country of this world (I like to boast!), do not have to keep to petty moral concepts. My grandfather, Schmidlin of Rüschlikon, he who could sit on his terrace and watch far away the chimneys where the dwarfs were working to amass his wealth, used to say: “Laws and morals are only for some citizen, not for all. Money makes everybody to a good citizen.” And I speak out of experience.” But I, Ramon, don't express myself so lowly. I, a professor and philospher having earned different prizes for my wits. I am simply very generous and like to hand out nice little gifts. They might be small or big, so to speak, it's according to what I want! Of course, I do it out of pure generosity. But I accept a return gift for my gift.
Nevertheless, at the time I met Koja, I believed that I should do it differently from my grandfather. I did not want to bribe. I wanted to keep myself to the laws. But it was not possible. If you want to gain something in our world, everywhere, you have to bribe. And do as if you never did it. And laws are passed to be bypassed. But I do not like using important time lamenting about what I missed. I want to live in the present. I act and suck Koja. He begins to moan out of pleasure. "Oh Ramon, you are so nice and tender. Why did I have to wait so long to know this side of you?" It's good for me that I am using my mouth so I can't answer, because the whole discussion would begin again. Now we are lying on the bed, having dried ourselves. Lying together on the bed, petting each other. And I want to be penetrated by Koya. "I regret." Koja says. "But it is not possible. The doctors told me I have aids. I am so afraid! It's no longer as it once was. I must have got it in prison. I was forced to do it with follow prisoners who were not even gay. And always without preservative. You know, Ramon, aids. I will die. And it's so terrible to die of aids! What can I do?" He recoils. "I don't want to give it to you." I should have expected it. But nevertheless I am shocked. If is the first one of us. But what would be the pleasure to live when Koja is dead? No. Either he and I or none of us! I have to give him courage, certainly wouldn't let him alone with his anxiousness. "Please, Koja, don’t drop your head. Today no illness is incurable. Today also aids can be cured. I know this Sven, from Copenhagen. He works on aid and can certainly help you. Money is no problem. If you really want to live you will surmount this illness. And I will stand besides you. I love you and you love me and together we will win." But Koja pulls this Preservative over and I don't find it nice any longer.
I don't like it. I let it go over me like a necessary procedure. But I have the feeling that I don't take Koya whom I love so much, with his whole self. I don't like these preservatives, they bring yourself to think that you can use something without fully having to accept the consequences. They are a symbol of our time, using somebody and accepting only the part of him which brings you something. Uh.
You think dear reader, that I am proposing to drink water while drinking myself wine. Fi on you. You misinterpret me. Would you find somebody who went so far as to Moscow and would pay horrendous sums to help a former acquaintance who had left him with invectives? And I have no thin skin! As you probably can well imagine. When I love somebody I love him wholly and with all his personality, without reservation, not only for the material niceties of his sex. But I love sex too, of course. These preservatives correspond too much to our superficial time spirit. Today you do not want to engage too much and wholly. But that is what I wrote in my „Ali“ which made the book a trend-setter and therefore a best-seller.
Afterwards we lay one besides the other, quiet and happy. Soon Koja falls asleep and I hear him snoring. He has caught some cold. For a moment I just lay there, listening to his breath, overwhelmed by my happiness to have Koja again with me, revelling in the euphoria of the last moments, feeling my body still pulsating of the last highs. But I can't keep quiet for long. I have to raise myself up on my elbows to take again a thorough look at Koja's body. How much he had to endure! I love him so I have to kiss his whole body, from his neck down to his soles. And he doesn't wake up! He is so much tired.
But I suspect, the pains have not finished yet, the worst is still to come! It will be finished only when we will be out of Russia. What to think about the drugs he took with him out of the prison. He is certainly playing the coy for somebody. The police? Or the Mafia? I have the distinct feeling we'll soon get a visit from one or both of these organisations. I get up, go to the hide-out where I put the drugs I took from his trousers. Previously, lying besides him, I felt everywhere over his body. There was nothing else hidden somewhere. I throw everything into the toilet, flush it. Throw the plastic bags out of the window into the inner court. Koja has waken up. He creeps up on his elbows, looks at me with his big green eyes. I go to the fridge, take out a bottle of the Veuve Clicquot they keep there for happy moments. Open it, letting bust and fly the cork. Koja gets up and strolls towards me. While we wait for the dinner we take the aperitif. I cheer and go to Koja, taking a sip, and kissing him. He drinks from my mouth. But i see how he refrains. I think it's because he does not want to give me his illness and want to tell him that it is absolutely the same for me, whether he has this illness or not. I love him and will take him as he is, in his entire personality. I have no fears of illnesses or anything like this. Love is all that matters.
But it's something else. He is so angry, that he starts shouting at me: "I saw you. What were you doing with my drugs. "Throwing them away." I say. He grabs me by my shoulders, shakes me like mad, shouts: "You devil! Where did you throw them?" I indicate the direction of the toilets with my finger. He lets go and runs to the toilet, knees down and grabs into the water with his fingers. As he realises that everything is gone, he falls with his face on the seat, throbs. I go to him, stand behind him, and hug him and pull him up. "It's not much" I say: "Let's drink something while waiting for the dinner." Pull him with me to the bar. He is completely apathetic. .And i look at him, so elegant, in his new curbed jeans, his leather jacket. "You know what I lost" he says. You'll have to pay a lot for it." I nod with my head. "Yeah" I say. "Providing we will be still alive. They take a long time till they bring that dinner. I suppose there is something going." He looks inquisitively at me. "I say. "Who was it who gave you the stuff?" He doesn't answer, but in fact it does not matter. A collaborator would not disclose his identity. But at least Koja begins now to look apprehensively at me. I am no longer simply a spoil game. Maybe he begins to believe a bit more in my knowledge about this business. I say, to profit from his momentous loss of self consciousness: "I suppose both the police and the Mafia are now much interested in us. I only hope the police will find us first. But I advise you. Keep yourself shut up, if we are so lucky that the police comes first. I will contact my attorney and hope we will be out of the country by tomorrow morning. If the Mafia is quicker, we will by then be lying in our graves!" I go near to him again, caress him. "You are so elegant in your new clothes. Watch yourself in the mirror!" I pull him there and stand besides watching him intensely. He seems to like it. Thinks a long time, then looks towards me, smiling under his tears and kisses me. "I thank you." he says. But then there is a knock on the door and they bring the dinner. Koja only looks at the dinner but doesn't eat anything. He suddenly begins to sob, without any reason. I hear him mutter: "All finished!" and tears dropping down. There begins again a discussion about "shit" and I now get angry. Loose my nerves. I shout: "Stop it and eat. Look at you, what did it do to you." He looks down his body, then suddenly gets up and disappears in the toilet. No longer do I have any hunger. I pour myself of the nice Chateau and drink. But then it's too quiet for me. What's happening? I go to the door of the toilet. Listen on it. What's going on in there. "Koja," I shout through the door, "please Koja, don't do yourself any harm. Please open the door. I am your friend and will always be. If your pains without the drugs get insurmountable, I will stand by you helping you to surmount them. But don't take any of this shit. Your body won't endure it." There comes no answer and the door remains closed. I shout: "You and I want to be happy together. You have a great future and it would be terrible." But I don't hear anything. I run to get an axe and force the door. (Where did I get the axe, I am never doing any work in the garden and don't have these things in my flat? Is it only for this story that it was put into a cupboard?) All these problems. I don't think of it because I think of Koja. I look into the long, small room. Complety closed as there is no window. It's dark and I have to put on the light. I shiver, get a shock and cry. Koja is on the floor sitting on his behind. In a big lake of his own blood, his head leaning downwards, his chin joining his chest. Blood drops down from the vein of his right arm. A broken tooth glass lays besides. He slit his vein open with the sharp edge of the broken glass, threw it over the washbasin to broke it. Must be terribly upset. He is without conscience while the blood flows. But fortunately he has not yet lost much blood. The lakes looks terrible but it less than a ounce I suppose. I act without thinking much. I grab his arm and press to stop the flowing, bind my handkerchief round his upper arm, thrust and the blood finishes to flow. Then I take his light weighted body on my arm and carry him. I carry him to his bed and lay him on it. I kiss him, embrace him. He wakes up from his stupor. Looks wondering at me. I say: "You live, Koja. I am happy. You can't do that, kill yourself. What would I do without you, Koja." He looks sullenly at me and replies: "I think I am only your toy for the moment. Somehow I rouse you sexually. But what will I do without you. When you let me drop because you have enough of me. l so hoped that I would get the money from these drugs. And get independent. And now you take me everything. I do not want to begin where I was once. Because you will have enough of me. You professor or whatever you are. And i will be on my own. And what can I do? Besides smuggling drugs, eh?" He sobs again. "You destroyed everything." Now I explain. Again. How you I instinctively know that everything is only a trap. Because everybody knows that drugs are traded in prison and he had them in his trousers' pockets and was not even searched. He does not even contradict. Just looks at me with his sad eyes. Has tears in his eyes. But I feel that he believes me. I say: "I will get you out of this country, Koja and we will fly together back to Mexico. In Mexico its warm and the people are nice. Not like this country."
I hate this Russia, cold, desolate and not hospitable." Now he answers, nearly shouting ,but under his breath: "But, it is my country. I have been born in Lettland but they don't want us Russians any longer in this country. My grandfather came from Russia because he hungered in Russia." I reply: "Here is your German passport. Your mother who adopted you is dead and won't tell anything about how she was bribed to adopt you. You have no living relatives. You are German, and if you want to leave me at Zurich you are free." I want to tell him I have founded a foundation for him with enough money to live but I can't say it. I want to tell him there is Professor Aihevit from the labs I financially run in Seattle who has found a medicine against aids based on Gene technology.
But then. all of a sudden, there is a loud bumping at the door. „Police. open up at once.“ Before I can open, they have already stormed the door, split it open by axes. A bunch of uniformed policemen rush in and force us with machine guns to hold our hands up. Some other in plain clothes follow and search the whole suite. They don't find anything suspect. But they confiscate the good wine and the food. With their torches they light down in the court. See the empty plastic bags. But they cannot proof they come from our room. But they realise the wounds of Koja and the mess in the toilet. Despite his bad shape they treat Koja harshly. "Get up, undress, stand towards the wall." Then there follows something in Russian which I don't understand. Koja is now standing naked at the wall. Both arms up and extended. His whole body is perpetually shivering, his lips are trembling. Their dirty, plump fingers are palpitating all his limbs, penetrating his most vulnerable places, looking for drugs. I protest. I wish to ask my solicitor to come along. But they only laugh. And all the time they stand around, the machine guns aiming at us. I am never sure with these Russians, they hate us, press the trigger and everything is finished. I like my life. But I am without might. Can't do anything. But as I have to look at Koja's distortions, I loose my patience. I protest. And now they concentrate their intentions on me. They want to begin to inquire about the mess in the toilet and Koja's injuries. Now it's for me and I don't intend to give up my rights! I declare that i don't speak Russian and that I won't say anything without the assistance of our attorney. That's a paragraph I know from the Russian laws, because Yvan told me. He would be nice, Yvan, if I did not know that he is a terrible Macho and has several girl friends besides his wife who bore him several children already. But he is very competent, and that is important. For the moment they stop with their activities. They are completely at a loss. Discuss the matter between them and decide that they can't afford to overlook my request. Now they forget about Koja. They look at me and begin to abuse me verbally.
now the dollars play their role again. I discreetly
some dollar notes to the policeman who
tried to obstruct my
way to the phone. Now suddenly he hands me back my handy and I am free to phone
my solicitor. He speaks directly
to the policemen and we wait till he comes. He shows them Koja's German passport.
They laugh dirtily as if they did
believe it to be a real one, but let him alone. It is a real one, but unfortunately
the German woman who adopted him
is dead of alcohol poisoning.
Back to the introduction
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