That was, if I can say that, only the “dream”, not even the dream, but something unreal, because all my life was just an opposite to that “goal”. I lived in the most stressful city of Russia and never even tried to have a garden with some flowers. I just didn’t had time to organize my own life, I was too busy with the society, so, when I found myself in the middle of the, what we called in Russia, “Crisis of the middle ages” (between 30 and 40 years old), I understood that the time is right. First of all I looked around myself. Buses, trains and streets were filled by men of different ages, but most of them were drunk, sexual abused or simple married. I must to start my searching somewhere else: for example, in a Net. The idea to put my profile on the one of internet pages about brides from Russia came to my head when a friend of mine shared with me a story about her successful experience with that kind of relationships. “This is very modern” – she looked full of enthusiasm – “That’s a normal way to meet each other, believe me”. To be honest between you and me, I knew that the Internet meeting is just a shit. I would never believe that a good man can’t find a good woman around himself. But because I adore adventures and I had to do something with my selfish boyfriend, I got 2 nice pictures and created a profile with the magic words “Love is all we need”. And here it comes! My Hero appears as soon as I finished the profile. There was not a young, but still handsome man, as he looked for me from his picture, who stood in a center of a big house with nice red roses behind his back…  The Man (let’s call him Jim) was in his middle 40s, he lived in a very nice country where an ocean, mountains, forest and desert were right behind one another. Of course, I’ve got e-mails not only from Jim by the bride’s web-page: there were different men from different countries, some of them were strange and I simple didn’t like them; some appeared only for one time and I didn’t get any mail from them back; French guy asked me to help him a lady from Russia (very young, blond and tall), excuses himself beside me (“you are not my type, I am sorry”)… So, Jim looked not bad: serious, kind, father of 3 sons, divorced, financial director of a big company and an owner of a huge nice house in one of the best places in a world, he could be a real fulfill of a dream of mine. No surprise, when my company invited me to visit a big exhibition in a city where Jim lived, I decided to meet with him in his homeland. How could I not use that chance to change my own life to the great future? As soon as I arrived, I gave him a call and informed that I am here. The first feeling from my talk to him was just kind of “I do not like his voice”. To talk with Jim about ten minutes, I understood that I will not be very interested in that man. By the way, it was too late to come back – he already invited me to spend some time with him and promised to show me some very nice places in the city he lived. And because I was very sure that God takes care of me, I was agreed. I have to tell you that I like to watch people. Probably, you know that type of feeling, when you are just watching them and see what they are doing. And then you are able to tell something about that people, because you may see a lot of details, which usually hiding when you communicate with person very active. So, when Jim arrived in his red car, I just was very quiet and watch him very carefully. I realized that the car was kind of old one (“this is my second car, I gave my track to a friend of mine who leaved the city for the weekend”); that Man himself looked not like 45 years old, but about 60, with big fat belly and strange face without smile. His last name was kind of Russian, kind of Ukrainian (“my grandmother was with Ukrainian background”), he likes the “Star Wars” and watch them like a child with a big cup of cola and a pop-corn in his hand; his free time he is spending in a big plaza markets (“I usually come here every weekend and buying clothes, watches, jewelries, everything”), and when I told him I need to make some shopping he didn’t want to let me go for a moment by myself, prefer to see my every step – so, the only thing I could buy were a new bag for me, because I just hate to go shopping with men. During the our first  dinner in one of the not bad Irish restaurants the peace of meet stand across his throat, and he couldn’t get that off very long time – almost till the time I went to the airport, and now I know that was a God who really takes care of me.  So, Jim was too busy now with his meet throat, and I can relax a little bit. I said we can go to see the doctor, but he refused and continue to show me his hospitality. He asked me what I would like to do, and, of course, I answered that I am going to see the suburbs of the place where he lives. Several weeks ago Jim sent me some very nice pictures with a view of the place where he is staying, and I could see beautiful mountains and nice flowers there – exactly what did I need. We drive to a street with big trees (‘this is my church over there”), then turned right and stopped near the long light brown building with public school across the street. “It is an apartment building which I am owned – two months ago we bought that with a friend of mine and we are going to repair that now, this is just an investment” – explain Jim – “I do have my own house, but I am very alone to live there, so, I moved here, because I have to watch how the workers doing they job”. OK, sounds real. I came into the door with red flowers and see the very small two beds apartment with one shower room and one living room and kitchen. Even my childhood friends, who immigrated to United States 10 years ago, had much more (houses with 3 floors not far from Manhattan, for example). Jim’s room was very small as well, in the second room stayed that friend, who took Jim’s car for weekend. His picture was on a refrigerator – that was a very fat man in a official dress with a stupid smile. The apartment was full of dust, also there were a lot of old things everywhere (“Kelvin likes old things, he used to be a hippy when he was young, and then he was in a war and after that he can be with women and to have a children, that’s why he is still alone and he drunks a lot”). Also Jim told me that his oldest son (“19 years old, form the girl with whom we were in college, we are still friends with her”)  is a baseball player, and I checked out some pictures on a wall with baseball teams, and one on the mirror – the team of girls who are usually goes with sports players, with an inscription “To Jim from Girls”. For the financial director of a big company everything were too old, poor and not presentable. I saw also a very old model of computer with a small web-camera (when Jim tried to clean his throat in a bathroom). On the next day he invited me to see the mountains, and before the airport he shows me an ocean. To tell the truth he was very kind, generosity and firm, even with the meet in his poor throat. He brought me into the airport and leaved me there (“it is not possible to park, and I will just bring you here, then you’ll find the way to your fly company”). In one hour he called me again just to be sure that I am OK and everything is fine. I was very pleased to that super attention and a little be upset that I have to leave so quickly. On my way back home I felt that I was in a great trip and tried not to think about the future. Before I leaved Jim said I have to write him every day (“even 2 words – I am OK – will be enough”) and also he will send me a special program for a communication by web-camera. When I came home, I answered that I do not have good connection to use that program and I am too busy with my job to write him every day. He looked upset with that but started to send me e-mails every two ours with words like “I miss you, I like you, I love you e t g”. I was almost shocked by that quick passage from firm and serious Jim to so sensitive and passionate e-male writer. I tried to answer him (half serious, half joked) about some details from my life, but very soon I found out that he is, probably, not reading my letters because he didn’t react to my words at all. And then I started to think about all of that matter from another point of view – not like Jim was a Man from my dream with house, garden, children e t g, but like I have to understand something about the whole situation. But what do I have to understand, tell me? I couldn’t even think where I have to begin.Just to take my time by somewhat, I choose my favorite web-page and print to the search window the first and last name of my Hero. I didn’t expect a lot – I just thought that, probably, I will see something about his company, job or his church there. But, oh, my God, what do I see instead of that? The document, where says that “in a default hearing, the State Court found Mr. Jim committed 18 violations of professional rules, including misappropriating about $54,000 of client funds, making misrepresentations to clients, disregarding the welfare of seven clients and acts of moral turpitude. In another matter, Mr. Jim’s settled a personal injury claim for $90,000, gave almost $18,000 to the client, took his fee and costs and said he would hold the remaining $55,000 to pay any Medi-Cal liens that might be filed. He misappropriated that money. The client obtained a default judgment against him for more than $44,000, which he never paid. Mr. Jim was disbarred in 2001, and was ordered to comply with rule”.That very interesting document was found in the same moment, when I got from Mr. Jim the letter with the words: “I am here dear... I know it is a very big decision to change your life. I can only say ...that when and if you make this decision...I would be happy if we can be together as a family. I have sufficient income ....we can raise our children in good schools here. We can give them the best learning and education. I do not know what else to offer you...except love and devotion”. Then that was a long story about his life and his divorce and about his job. To my surprise, I found in that story the crossing moments with the facts in the net’s document (the time of changing the work, the places where he was taken), but the age of that person form the doc was different! If suggest that Mr. Jim was that disbarred person, he has to be not less but 51 years old now!  So, instead of answer I sent to my Hero the document from the Net with the one request – to send me ASAP a copy of his passport of a letter from his job to see that he is not that Mr. Jim who is in the document in the Net. An answer was very quick and short. “This is definitely not me, and I do not know where did you get that”, - he wrote to me – “but I have to think about relationships between you and me, because searching in a Net for Americans is very offensive”. I explained that I would like to know something more about a person who would like to marry me and this is very normal in Russia, especially when you do not have somebody to ask about that person and nobody whom knows that person as a friend. He again answered me very strict that I MUST to trust him and that he was always upset about that man with the same name from Internet case.  OK, I almost believed him. I really couldn’t imagine that Jim might be so bad with the law in his country. He looked serious and good, and I would prefer to see his copy of passport with another date of birth and to have a good sleep instead of typing mad night letters on my computer. But here we go. My rest was far away. Jim not only sent me nothing, he told that he would be thinking about all of that. That meant I am on the right way. I knew that there were some official web-pages where I could order information about the person – otherwise if I didn’t have his correct date birth, I would spend my money for wind and will find nothing. So, I just came back to Internet and found another searching page – the Russian one. Printed the name of the Hero to the window, I found 2 more messages about Mr. Jim… in the “Black list of foreigners’ men for Russian women”! No, I just couldn’t believe that! Here was absolutely the same man, who called himself Mr. Jim and talked with me all that time. I read a whole list of chat between Russian ladies (the topic was called “Who knows Mr. Jim, please, let me know ASAP!”), where they are shared with each other some information. The girl from Moscow named Marina tried to get some information about Jim and was wondered if somebody communicated with him already. There were more than 10 ladies who were in charge with the Hero, and al of them described him like a man from the picture which I saw first: not young, in a center of big house, with red roses behind. I think that picture worked perfect for out ladies who are really needed a husband.  I wrote a personal message to Marina and got her answer. I asked her to tell me why she is interesting about Mr. Jim’s connections, and she answered that she was in touch with him already about 5 months. “Every evening we talked trough Internet by web-camera, we even met New Year celebration together in ICQ twice – in his and mine time. And once he didn’t write to me about 1 week, and I was very upset, I didn’t understand what was going on. I started to search Internet trying to get somebody who knows him, and instead of that I found some criminal information. I am sure that is about him, because he sent me his full name and address when I made an invitation to Russia for him, and that was the same name and the same address! And when I wrote the message about him to the Russian page, he wrote to me back immediately and he said that this is not him in the article and he told me that I will never come to his country because I am very stupid and put some negative information about him. He was very angry to me, he wrote he is criminal and has a good connections and he may catch everybody… And about week ago he came to my ICQ again and wrote me that he is still in Love with me and he would like to continue our relationships. I didn’t answer, because I already have another man from another country and I do not need him”.      That was the second prove that Mr. Jim and my Jim from nice mountains were not twins, but the one man. Jim continued to write me his “love letters” (probably, because I was not so strict like Marina and I never told him about the Black Russian page and about Marina as well), and I even wrote to him something back, but I started to be very tired from that strange situation. When I saw couple another official documents in the net where Mr. Jim was not only disbarred, by also arrested by a sexual abuse of a 17-years old babysitter of his youngest son, I again asked Jim to send me something to prove that this is not him. “Otherwise I would never be able to talk with you anymore” – I wrote him very strictly. 

The problem for him in my case was that he new me personally and, I think, he really liked me. That’s why he didn’t get off, but promised me to prepared a letter from his job “about everything”, and said that “I will know all the truth, but not that nonsense in an Internet”, but I have to promise him “never to show that documents to somebody and never tell somebody about what I will see there”. Now you can see. We are almost finished. That was him, no doubt. But I wanted to be alive – and that meant that I didn’t want to know any TPO SECRET documents about somebody. I remembered very well the Story about the Man with the blue beard, who killed his each wife and put her in the secret room, then locked that room with a small key, and as soon as his next wife appeared to his great big house, he gave her everything, including the key, with simple words “Do not go, please, to that secret room, this is not for you”, and when the wife (of course) opened that room, the key were in blood, and the lady is not able to clean that. So, The Blue Beard killed here and go to the next one. That’s’ why I wrote to Mr. Jim immediately a nice letter with some words “I believe you, do not worry. It’s not of mine business” e t g, then very fast deleted my e-mail account and also my profile in the Russian brides web-page. To my great happiness I finally stopped a crowd of very stupid letters from those strange black men who wanted to marry “white wife” and I prefer never to hear about my Mr. Jim again.

   Elena Veird

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