Alekis’ story
Look at this
picture of David and don't panic.
David is a talented photographer. He is also a famous
Jazz musician. Here he is photographing his friends Thierry, Ramon and José
while he is living as a guest in Thierry's big apartment at the shores of the
Lake
of
Annecy
. There
the friends read about José's and Ramon's encounter in
Mexico City
, eat well, make love together and
have fun. I know, it's scandalous. But Ramón is rich
and can live as he wants it.
Gandarian, yes, the famous Ramón, is already of a certain age,
a famous historian, Pulitzer Price Winner and Literature Nobel price winner.
Today it's hot in California.
He sits together with his love Alec on the terrace of Nike Garacharians'
house in Los Angeles
and tells him about the newest mystery he is writing. Nike
who now attends the Festival of Cannes, lives for the time being at
Ramón’s house in Saint Tropez, a property in the centre of Saint Tropez.
He has put his terrace house in Los
Angeles at Ramón disposal. Gandarian's
manager prompted Ramón to write a mystery with a historic subject as these
historical thrillers are very much en vogue. Ramón is sitting or rather lying
on a couch. Alec, blond hairs and blue eyes, whom everybody dreams of having as
a close friend, lies besides him. 
Just besides there is a picture which David made of
him when he was still a child. Then, David had to earn
money as reporter of the LA Evening star. He had volunteered for the Vietnamese
war. Alec, his name was then Max, is an illegitimate
son of a high rank American Officer (Counter Admiral Max Smith) a son of an immigrated
Swiss Banker of the Name of Hans Schmidt. This admiral stayed in Vietnam as head
of the American forces. He did not really fight, that doesn’t befit for son's of Swiss bank managers. He stayed for some time in Cambodia like
many other Americans, picked up “Susie” a Cambodian girl and told
her how he loved her and wanted to marry her. If that reminds you of Verdi’s
“Madama Butterfly”, you are certainly not
mislead. But what happened at the beginning of the
last century might also happen in the so called modern times, and don't think
that the sons of
the oldest democracy of the World are more integer than was Pinkerton! I have
been told that there are many former Mafia bosses which
emigrated from Italy
and have established themselves perfectly in this Land of the setting sun. This
fine American hero, the counter admiral Max Smith, left Susie and didn't come
back. The boy she bore was too much like his father, to be accepted in his
mother's family. His mother was expelled from the family, fled to Vietnam to
avoid being killed by some family member. She always thought her beloved Max
would look for her. But Max was now well back in America again and didn't think any
longer of his Cambodian sweetheart. And though the poor mother of Max was now
considered as a Vietnamese whore, she had to earn her living and was only accepted
at the American camps, where she served American soldiers needing to make love
far from their cosy homes. They had made an Inferno of Vietnam and did not like
this. All the time she thought her beloved Max would come back. He had
certainly been killed in the barbarian country of the West, she thought. Life
was so terrible in Vietnam
for Max, his mother beating him all the time, that he
ran away. All this time, Counter Admiral Max Smith, lived a happy life within
his family in Florida.
G.H.W. Bush, then head of the CIA, had given him the medals of a Hero defending
the American democracy in Vietnam
and promoted him into a post at the CIA. He also didn’t want any contacts
with Alec's mother, who had written him love letters several times. He became
fed up with these letters and the remorse he felt reading them. He told one of
his subordinates to get rid of her. A Vietcong spy of the Americans soon spread
the rumours under the Vietcong, that she had spied for
the Americans and was sleeping with the enemy, Susie, the daughter of this
Vietnamese hero who had had to fly to Cambodia
when the French invaded the empire of Vietnam. Therefore, she was
captured by some Vietcongs to be hung at a tree. And
Max had now no mother. His situation in Vietnam was very nasty.
Lyndon Johnson feared he would loose the
war. Anyhow, he lost his popularity with the Americans as the soldiers were being killed in Vietnam. It
turned out as John Kennedy had feared. All the pain undergone by the Arms
lobby, murdering Kennedy and murdering afterwards his murderer Oswald had been
unnecessary. David, then a famous photograph working for Agency ABC was sent as
a war correspondent to Vietnam.
There, he was taken as hostage by the Vietcongs who
had emprisoned Susie and wanted him to take pictures
of this execution, as they wanted to tell the American people how Vietcong
heroes were taking revenge on whores who slept with the enemy. He was captured,
brought to the Vietcong camp with bandaged eyes and had to assist to the
execution. Her summation was terrible, the young mother was to be misused by
all present Vietcongs in turn and afterwards
strangled to death and her dead body hung at a branch. When the young mother
was dead, and immersed in her own blood, her executioners had turned her upside
down and hanged her to a branch of a tree. David was brought before the tree
and ordered to take pictures of the poor victim. But he had managed to pick up
and hide a purse which had slipped out of the woman when they undressed her to
take their pleasure on her before she died. All the things he had seen while
being a hostage to the Vietcongs were too much for
David. He had taken to drink a lot, to take drugs.When
his mother was abducted, Max, who didn't know his real name always having been
called Love by his mum, found himself alone outside an
American Soldier camp. He cried, hot tears fell from his eyes on the floor but
the people just hurried along, taking no heed of this lean, poorly clod fair
headed boy sitting alone on the wet floor in the down pouring rain. To the Vietnamese
people he was obviously a dirty brat of the enemy and to be hated accordingly.
The American soldiers on the other side didn't want to have to feed and look
after a child. Max cried but it did not help him to get
nourished, clothed and be able to spend the night in a shelter. He sat
somewhere on the concrete floor before the entry of the American Military base,
begging, alone, tired and hungry, and realised now that he would never see his
mother again. As often happen he had nevertheless a natural urge to subsist. So
he strolled around American Army camps trying to survive by selling fruit he
had taken from the neighbouring trees and begging. He soon realised that no
soul had any interest in his fruits or put any coins into his little pot,
except when he let himself be caressed and carried away to a kind of a hotel, there
to lie on a bed in a room, be stripped naked and misused. It hurt terribly when
these insensitive soldiers penetrated him, when these adults forced him to suck
them at their back or their front, where it stank and was often dirty. He soon
came to hate all of them, all these "boy-eaters". He didn't know he
was a child of a the American hero, Counter Admiral Max
Smith! The American soldiers of the camp called him "Love" and he
thought this was his name. When at last he realized that he was still always
hungry and shivering in the rain, even begging and trying to be a nice plaything
of rude soldiers, he tried to steal victuals in an American camp. Seized by a
dozen "brave " American heroes, the little
lean boy defended himself, injuring one of the brave soldiers by giving him a
kick between his legs. The American Angel Soldier nearly lost his stand and
thought. "This Vietcong brat must be brought behind bars as otherwise he
will be a danger for our morally sane society.".
They dispatched him to a certain American prison camp on Cuba, were
prisoners can be damped and forgotten. But here also, “Love” or “Max”
was no idiot, he realised soon that he would die soon in this hopeless
environment and looked for a helping angel gurad.
When he realised that a guardian looked at him with watering, desiring eyes,
just as the soldiers had looked at him back in Vietnam, he knew what this meant.
He didn't wait for the other to hurt him, he helped
him find his desire. On the spot, he fell down on his knees, opened the fly of
this grim looking American Angel and started to kiss his bad smelling thing.
Vain troubles! The adult seized him, turned him upside down till his head was
stuck into the mud, tore his trousers away and tried to stick his vile, giant
thing into his back, uttering high-pitched sighs as he pushed. He was caught
during the act by the Governor of the prison, who summoned him and sent him
back to the States, to be judged there. And ordered then soldiers standing
around that the boy be brought by night to his lodging.
Love was brought to him, and as he realised that this brat was no longer a
virgin, he took his own pleasures on him. Then, considering it too dangerous
for his rank and renown to have him standing around, as a living remainder of
his sins, he sent him to California, to a prison camp for juvenile offenders.
Max, or Love, knew now too much of the benevolence of American military
persons, he tried to escape during his transfer, but was caught, whipped and
mistreated and landed finally all the same in the LA prison camp, he had been
sent to originally. He was brought there, as dangerous delinquent, handcuffed
by a very courageous LA policeman, who profited from the situation to..... I am
sick of telling all the time the same thing and I will never mention it again. You
can’t change Yankees and they all behave in the same way. I leave it to
your imagination to seek out what happened to poor Love in this L.A. prison camp,
surrounded by boys who had been misused similarly.
David had never been able to withstand the
terrible shock in Vietnam,
his soul was sick for ever. He lost all hope and love of mankind. As soon as
possible he returned to England,
to his studio, but he had lost all his drive, didn’t have any phantasie to work sat around in his studio, drinking,
smoking shit, always high. Of course he had not been able to produce any good
photography after his return from Vietnam. The picture he had taken
of the poor hanged woman now hangs on the walls of the Ramón Gandarian museum in Acapulco.
Unfortunately for him he fell in love with a another
man who spent all his money and he had been quite comfortable before this
adventure in Vietnam.
Soon David was ruined and had to leave London,
to flee to Mexico City,
without money and completely worn out, living as a vagabond in the streets,
drinking. There Ramón Gandarian found him, looking
for another victim, a poor street child whom he had tried to save but had
misunderstood him and fled from his home. He had never forgotten David, his
first love, he had met as a young run-away boy in London’s Hide
Park at the tender age of
fifteen. He had all the time being collecting the pictures of this his first
love and that’s why David’s last picture, Love’s or Max’s
or (now) Alec’s poor mistreated mother hangs now on a wall of the villa
built for Ramón Gandarian by Alvar
Aalto in Acapulco. Of course this picture of David
had won a press price and been published several times. Ramón had donated his famous house of Acapulco
to the Mexican state on condition that it’s revenues would be paid out to
the foundation he had set up to help street boys find a home and be trained in
a profession.
As everybody knows, Ramón and David lived
some months in their comfortable villa, but David couldn't stand it, living
with Ramón in this posh touristic town, surrounded by
misery, somewhere on the shore of the West coast of a poor country, rich of the
black gold, oil, producing dirty money which flows ....
not into the pockets of the poor in Mexico, but serves some rich yankee adventurers in the Middle West to reign over the
richest country of the world, to produce arms which are used to kill the poor
in Afghanistan and Irak and again enrich the same,
already rich yankees of the Middle West. He quarrelled
with Ramon and the pictures of their somehow crude fight, Ramón having been
stripped off all his clothes and thrashed by David, were published everywhere
as it happened the day before Ramón got his Nobel Price of Literature. David
flew to LA. He came by chance upon a blond boy who was marching on the middle
of the pavement, hand- and feet cuffed, surrounded by two grim looking,
enormous policemen handling knifes and guns as if they were fighting for live
against a horde of giants. David couldn't help picturing this poor boy, looking
at him with seeking eyes. He felt horrible, because he could do nothing for his
salvation. And at home, he was even more miserable. The picture of Love, he had
still with him, felt out of his purse, and he realized that this poor,
miserable, shackled boy was in fact the son of the woman having hanged hold by
a rope biting into her ankles, her whipped, bloody body exposed to the birds of
prey. After having taken this picture, David had always looked out for Love,
but he never managed to see him again, save for this last time. But the nice
blond boy was no longer around, probably secluded somewhere in a prison cell deep
under the earth and David found no possibility to help him flee. Only Ramón
could have had to money and the relations to buy his flight, Ramón was very
clever and as a former agent of the FBI, had also the necessary links. But David
didn’t have the gut to contact Ramón again, he
thought that Ramón was so upset about him because of the press pictures. Finally
he gave up, left this country he hated so much, went to France and met Thierry before the most touristic Gothic cathedral of France,
Chartres
and lived for ever with him. But chance happened all the same to Love. Ramón
met him, later, when he had grown in different juvenile education homes, and
had been christened Alec and had more than once blown shit. Ramón fell in love
with him. He is now certain that Alec is an incarnation of the Hyksos' prince Alekis he is now
writing about. A historic thriller which will never be
written because Ramón no longer can write. Today both are lying on the
warm rim of the swim basin, feeling warm and happy, having drinks and enjoying themselves together. After having kissed him again, long and
intensiv, Alec asks Ramon: "What are you
writing? Is this a new novel? Or a historical essay?"
It could be, yes, could, as Ramon got a Pulitzer price for his historical
research on the real origin of the so-called Hyksos,
the folk from the Sea, and later on the literary noble price for his novel
"Ali" which was turned into a film by Nike Garacharian,
who already has won different Oscars for his pseudo sentimental films, for
example the one about a dream of Proust, mentioned in
his "Recherche du
temps passé" but now lost. Now Nike turns a film at Ramon's ex-Alvar-Aalto-House in Acapulco
about the secret life of Frieda Kahlo and how Diego
Garcia tried to outdo her with his boys. Ramon strokes gently Alec's thighs and
sighs: "It doesn't go on, it's neither, its something I never wrote
before, a thriller, or rather, a mistery. I want to
write a bestseller about a subject like this to earn more money for my project
of homes for rent boys in distress. But I cannot write anything besides my
moral and social fables."....He turns around to look into the beautiful
blue eyes of Alec. "I am completely worn out by the love for you, Alec,
"he sighs, at last, having kissed Alec on his eye-lids.
"Of course there is money enough around without this book. All incomes from my books, from "Heathen Berries",
"Ali", from the schools where my teachers tell avid truth seekers all
about Ali's revolutionary philosophy of life for the people. We make
collections to bring the money together, but people are not very generous. And
governments hold back as the subject is not popular, especially with the
political parties arising like vulcanoes in the
extreme right wing. The gains arising from my sales of "Ali" and my
historic books from the time I was teaching about the Hyksos
at Zurich University should be sufficient to pay
for it. But that is not the case and also the schools flourish, the sales of
books are going back. For the moment I pay the greatest part out of my personal
wealth. It's not satisfying, neither for me nor for all my friends!"
And Ramon begins to tell Alec all about the theme of his new novel.
"It happens
in the area of King Kallisthenes the great, when the Hyksos live in Achaia, before emigrating
to Egypt.
Alekis, the young crown prince, a dark-haired, nice and dreamy boy, has
been murdered. Nobody understands this act of brutality because Alekis is such a peaceful creature. Nobody can
understand why Alekis could have had enemies. In the
morning of the day he should have been married to princess Chrisethemas,
short Chris, the oldest princess of the befriended neighbor
state of Nauplia, he is found dead with a
mutilated body lying in the nuptial chamber where he had no right to access
before his wedding. Never would he have accessed by his own free will to this
place, not peaceful prince Alekis! It looks as if he
was raped and had to die slowly from the wounds inflicted by his perpetrators
in his back. There are rumors of the murderers having
been of the princess's family. There are even rumours that the body found is
not Alekis, but the high priest's son Nikos, and Alekis is still hidding having perpetuated the awful crime out of a fit of
jealousy. In fact, only the king, that is Kallisthenes,
nick named Kallis, has a key to the nuptial chamber.
It's a very dangerous political theme as today he expects a visit of an
emissary of the family of the bride. King Kallisthenes
the Great, Kallis, very much relies on Nauplia as a befriended kingdom. It has always been an
important ally. The throne of King Kallisthenes is imperiled. After this murder the folk is very much upset.
They expect of King Kallisthenes
the Great to declare war to the former allies.
More about how
King Kallisthenes the Great found out who murdered Alekis,
and Ramon Gandarian's dreams will shortly be
published in an e-book.
Read the first chapter
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