I am a lucky guy. You would envy me my life style. I have evrything most of you seek for in life. When I retired from the LA music business with too much cash in the bank my partner Jeff and I purchased a small chateaux in mid france. We have about 50 acres mainly pasture but with cherry orchards, two fishing lakes, the property has 12 bedrooms, many living rooms and outbuildings including stables for the horses. We employ a small army of staff, all locals who were delighted that the chateaux would once again provide a living. I think they are happy even though we are not french but we try with the language and are good employers. Henri, the gardener is an example. His wife is attractive and cleans for us. He is very lazy and works only in the mornings but Eve, his wife is a happy person, singing as she cleans. She and her 6 year old son Christian bring Jeff and I a lot of pleasure and liven up the place. We indulge henri and do not expect that much of him. Most afternoons in summer you can find him behind the stables close to their small cottage sitting in an old armchair with a half finished bottle of the local red wine. It was Christian's liveliness and mischief making which gave Jeff the idea which he had put to me earlier that year. Plans had been 5 months in the making. There are other staff but I do not need to tell you about them yet.
Jeff and I visit Paris often to shop and travel around this beautiful country acquiring the antiques which most of the inhabitants seem pleased to dispose of. We also visit old friends in LA and have them stay with us. Mostly I wiat for the royalty income to arrive.
Today was a sultry and hot day and I was in a small provincial town in a post soviet state, way east in eastern europe. It was raining and I stood facing a dirty looking stone building.
My contact had explained the process in some detail. The papers would show that the boy was my son, legally adopted following my marriage to his mother. Fine except that the mother did not exist and the marriage was a (not very expensive) sham.
As the local economy had fallen even further into the abyss, fraud and mafia activity had grown and the trade in child slavery was more prevalent but still largely hidden.
I was very nervous and had considerable anxiety as we entered the dingy building and then through to the reception room......... Only the huge amount of cash which would be transferred to my guide if I was satisfied provided me with any comfort. Otherwise I fully expected the local police to burst in at any moment and haul me off to a life of hard labor. This was giving me more of a rush than I was used to.
In truth also I had never really expected the venuture on which I was now embarked to give the result that I had dreamed of.
There were too many pitfalls.
My guide walked at my side. I felt like a naughty schoolboy going to see an angry headmaster. My palms swetted. My legs started to feel weak.
He asked me in broken english to sit down on a wodden bench and he sat next to me. I said nothing. He was humourless and I assumed he had been here before.
After what seemed like an eternity but was in fact only a few minites a side door opened and a rough looking stocky youth of about 20 walked in. He walked slowly. He was broad shouldered with short cropped hair and an unpleasant expression, almost smirking. He looked like the sort of young thug you would not hope to meet out.
Behind him, at some distance. trailed therr young boys, looking thoroughly miserable and dejected. They did not look up at us, just followed the boy in front. My heart sank. I realised this was a huge waste of my time and money and the gamble had not paid off.
After a few more seconds a fourth boy entered the room, his head looking at the stone floor as he walked.
The man shouted at the four boys and they immediately formed a line in front of us, but with heads still bowed.
The boys clearly feared the older youth and I had a good idea why...he terrified me.
The rain outside continued to lash at the windows of the room, all too high so that one could see the gray sky but nothing could see into the horrid place. The wlla sof the room were a dirty white wash with stains around it. The naked light bulb cast shadows of the figurtes in the place.
The youth looked over at my guide and me with an aggresive look. I imagined what he thought of us and of what was going on and thought that he would have cut my throat given half a chance. I averted my eyes from his gaize. I also had a panic again, the boys were probably brutalised. I had taken on more than I could manage and wanted to turn to my guide, offer him as much of my money as he wanted just to get me out of that place.
My guide stood up beside me and I suddenly remembered what to do. I had almost forgotten as the events of the last few minutes had been shocking to me (even though they were as I might have imagined). The reality was different to the fantasy.
I was now to select a boy. I walked slowly over top the boys. My guide accompanied me and together we walked in front and then behind them while their eyes remained fixed on the floor. Their eyes were tired and exhausted. We paused to study each one. The whole thing wqas a nightmare and I longed for it to end. I chose the fourth and youngest looking boy by touching him on the shoulder. He remained motionless as the youth barked an order at the remaining boys who headed out of the room while he closed the door, slamming it behind them. The boy I had chosen began to sob pathetically and I wanted to hold him but my guide escorted me back to my seat and agian sat down at my side.
The youth returned to the boy who was now standing about ten feet in front of us. He barked an order aggresivley at the youngster who was now weeping. He snapped at the child again and the boy started to sniff, momentslater he lifted his arms to the ceiling and the youth reached down and pulled the boys dirty red teeshirt off roughly. He clearly cared nothing for the child. I looked at the boy, his ribs showing through his pale flesh. The boy had a pleasing face, not cute but pleasant.
My guide asked me if I liked the child and I replied yes. He spoke to the youth in the language I did not understand and the boy turned round with his back to us. I was shocked, but not surprised, to see faint images of what were clearly strap marks across the boys back from his shoulders to the top of his dirty faded and torn denims. This was an experience I was hating but it was to get even worse yet. I disapproved intensly of the abuse I was witnessing.
After more rough instructions from the youth the boy turned to look at us. My guide explained that he would leave us for 5 minutes but would return with 'papers'.I was on the edge of my nerves and noticed the scared look on the boys face. The boy spoke for the first time, addressing the youth quietly, and then looking at me with an expression of fright. I smiled back but his look remained the same. His voice was soft and trembling.
I sat waiting for the next thing to happen.
As the door was locked behind my guide the boy removed his pants slowly and nervously, he had no under clothing. He was now naked before me. he was too thin but was of average height. The youth shouted again and the boy turned round so that I could inspect the rear view. The boys buttocks were small and completely unmarked, the purity and paleness of his young bottom contrasting with the marks on his back. He needed a few decent meals and fresh air, that was all Two days later when I finally mentioned this to my guide he merely laughed at me and told me that the new fathers preferred their new sons to be unmarked. The youth turned the youngster around and led him toewarsd me. I sat nervously but was excited.
''He sit on lap'' the youth spoke in broken english. Without delay the boy came and sat on my right knee and I held him on his back to prevent him falling backwards. The next action stunned me. The boy took my left hand and placed it on his left thigh. He had done this before I thought. In fact he had. He had not yet been selected by others though as he was the newest orphan and most other clients preferred slightly older better formed boys. I again learned this from my guide later.
I cold not resist becoming a little more excited. The youth then gave another loud order to the boy who let go of my hand and stood up. He walked a little distance from me. Without turning, he bent over. The youth came to stand behind the boy and patted his bottom. ''ok...ok'. I smiled at the youth who, for the first time, grinned back at me with an evil smirk. The youth told the boy to dress and then he opened the side door and the boy walked off. As he left he looked back at me over his shoulder and gave me a completely blank stare. I could not tell if he cared to be adopted, becoming my adopted son or not. He could have had no idea about my wealth and the life that awaited him. By now I had made up my mind that I had to have him if only to save him from this cruel and brutal life of hopelessness and to give him.....a better life in the west.
Waiting for the adoption process to take its course there was nothing for me to do but wait in my seedy hotel, described as the 'best in town' by my guide who now busied himself with the corruption associated with the formal part of the process. The marriage was made and the 'bride' seemed happy with her gold chain. I telephoned Jeff but could say little as the phones would be bugged. I had agreed some months before that Jeff, whose idea this had been, could help rasie the boy, if I got one. Of course we had discussed discipline, although I had worried when, early one morning, he had marched into the study waving a whippy junior cane, one of a number which he had ordered without my knowlege on the net 'just in case'. Jeff commented that it should be kept in the open, available for use when one of us would need it. I was as ready as Jeff to agree the merit of applying the cane to a young boys bottom. At present however disciplne was the last thing on my mind. Many concerns and worries entered my mind during those days. Three days later Alexis (his new name) arrived at the hotel door with my guide. He looked more cheerful but did not manage a smile. His face had been scrubbed and his cheeks had some color in them, The clothes I had bought for him fitted well enough. The stores in Paris would provide Alexis's future wardrobe, but for now the white teeshirt and new jeans and sneakers would be fine. The first of a substantial downpayment exchanged hands and the three of us set off along the badly gutted roads in my guides ten year old fiat towards the border. I sat in the back with Alexis. Only when we reached western europe would we be free to travel without fear. Our papers were valid but I remained nervous of betrayel, especially now.
Part two coming... did we make it out of that state or did I spend the rest of my life doing hard labor...what happened next.