by Ava Zavora
Support my claim? Bossy little lady aren't you? The new? I am tolerant. I own an iPad. I am concerned about the environment. Satisfied? (Though wind turbines all need knocking down and hybrid cars need crushing).
I've had a colourful life. I am not the person I used to be although fear is something that lingers. When people have feared you, reputation is not something that is easily amended. I am not mean-spirited. I try to do good for other people in fact, without this endless quest for recognition that people deny they want when they do charitable endeavours, yet they are always there, lingering around the limelight.
There is an incurable darkness behind my eyes, but I am its commander, not the other way around.
I am responsible for people and that involves control. Because of my professional life, it means a lot of control. Though that will all come to an end in two years. My real aim is simplicity.
I'm not toning down my confidence, more how I project it, because this medium we are using to communicate, even though we are both skilled at using the pen, often leads to things being misconstrued, especially when you are not well acquainted with the recipient of your words.
Respect, loyalty, and honesty are the three most important ethics in my life.
I don't think you'd dislike me for my egomaniacal ways, perhaps other things.
I'm glad we stumbled upon each other, Eden.
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From: Eden E
Date: Thu, Aug 2, at 3:45 PM
To: Adam -
Was I putting words in your mouth? All I have are the words you give me, so I have to read into them. Or should I just consume your words without question?
Incurable darkness. You do know how to get me wondering. I'd ask you to explain but perhaps for next time.
It's past midnight in Sicily so I will let you rest. That smoky after-dinner picture you painted for me is blending into scenes from The Godfather.
Stumbled upon each other ... I don't know quite what to make of all this. So I'll pretend I'm reading a book and just keep turning the pages. Curiouser and curiouser.
Good night.
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From: Adam -
Date: Thu, Aug 2, at 3:48 PM
To: Eden E
I was pulling your leg. I enjoy your opposition. It's intelligent.
OK, ask me to explain next time.
Il Padrino, a classic film, the only one I know that was 100% true to the book.
It's certainly an unexpected page turner.
Good night (standard definition).
p.s. If you keep sending me to bed, I'll start calling you mother.
Did they just stumble upon one another, as Adam claimed?
After work, Eden went home and pored over their e-mails, word for word. She still couldn't believe he was only 28. His tastes were too old-fashioned.
Was he as sexist as he seemed to be - calling feminists "silly creatures" or was he just trying to bait her? Why didn't it repel her as it should have?
Perhaps she was too flattered by the fact he had been reading her blog entries. Her review of the book on evolutionary psychology was from a month ago.
She can't deny that she was more than curious about him. The day had passed so quickly, too quickly, while she had been engrossed in their exchange. The more he revealed about himself, the more fascinated she became.
She Googled images of Agrigento. There were pictures of a sunny area, with lots of green fields, near the sea.
She checked the time he said he was eating dinner - with the time difference, around 9:00 p.m. It was the appropriate time for dining in Southern Italy, as she recalled. The sprinkling of Italian words and dishes, the reference to being on an island seemed to indicate that he could be in Sicily.
She noted his spelling of certain words - "colour", "neighbour" - all British spellings. He might be the Englishman he claimed.
He answered all her questions, which she threw out like challenges, waiting for him to evade. He seemed as straightforward as a stranger could be. At least on paper.
What if he was really Troy in disguise, luring her into starting their relationship anew?
Or an attorney in the office, the one who delighted in playing pranks on people and had goaded her for months before her obstinate refusal to engage finally discouraged him?
Or one of the cops, the type who mistakenly thought a single mother would be grateful for any type of male attention, even from a married man?
She didn't at all consider her ex-husband - he didn't even own a computer.
Only Troy knew about her blog, and the man she was corresponding with didn't write like Troy would write. Troy was romantic, but more wishy-washy. This man did not seem to have a dreamy side to him at all.
When she started the blog, she hadn't been too careful about hiding her real name. Now she was a lot more private. She had tried to delete every instance where her identity could be compromised. But everything on the Internet was forever. If someone who knew her name were to dig long and hard, eventually they could uncover the existence of her blog. And vice-versa.
None of the cops she knew could possibly pretend to be so well-read or sophisticated. They were like little boys with guns. All macho bravado and action. Try as she could, she couldn't picture any of them writing with Adam's eloquence. The attorney would be the most likely culprit, but his prankster personality was at odds with the man who wrote those poems. Unless it was a cover.
She couldn't imagine anyone she knew as the man who was writing to her. He was like no one she had ever met.
Adam wrote about honesty. Should she believe him?
Chapter 4
Eden tried not to think of the mysterious Englishman. She tried to tell herself that she must have been so starved for attention that she had made more of an online flirtation than it actually was. Yet she woke up the next day much too excited to go to work to see what the next stage of their conversation will bring. Another poem? More witty banter? A debate on gender roles? Or something more serious?
She logged onto her private e-mail first thing and stayed logged on, intermittently checking it throughout the day. The morning came and went with nothing from him. She visited other book blogs and commented perfunctorily, checked her Twitter, and busied herself with work. The day started to drag.
By early afternoon she felt quite silly. She had made more out of nothing. A stranger had been bored and started communicating with her to pass the time - and two days later she was forlorn when he had moved on to something or someone else. She had been engaging in online social networking for three years and should have known better than to become attached to something as impermanent and inconsequential as an Internet connection. While she had never been active on Facebook - only owning an account so that she could view her friends and family's pictures - she had been very social with other bloggers, much friendlier than she was in real life. But they were all women, bookish nerds like her. As in real life, she should have been more reserved when a man paid her attention, even if it was only over the Internet.
She read his last e-mail to her, where he threatened to call her "mother" for sending him to bed. Perhaps he had merely had a change of heart, having reconsidered the age difference as too great. He should have done so before sending her a poem, before a whole day of sending e-mails back and forth. He should have just ended it once he found out. Before she got attached.
It was Friday afternoon and she had a weekend of reading and activities on her list of 36 new things to occupy her. Eden refused to feel sad for herself. There was a pile of gorgeous new review books waiting at home.
She was trying to decide which one to crack open that night when an e-mail from Adam arrived. Eden squelched the treacherous surge of happiness she felt.
Subject: Hello
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From: Adam -
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at
4:12 PM
To: Eden E
I have just returned home from a chaotic day.
How are you my dear?
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From: Eden E
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at 4:32 PM
To: Adam -
Finishing up at work. How are you?
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From: Adam -
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at 4:33 PM
To: Eden E
I'm dead to the world, and had an exhausting day, but I had to check in with my muse, ha.
Get home and have a drink woman!
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From: Eden E
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at 4:34 PM
To: Adam -
I rarely drink. I'll be leaving in a minute.
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From: Adam -
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at 4:38 PM
To: Eden E
I didn't want you think I had neglected you. That is to say, I couldn't have forewarned you of my complete disappearance today, due to it being quite unexpected.
I'm lying on my bed. My mind is completely active, but my muscles are melting into the mattress, if that makes sense.
Any plans for this weekend? Perhaps you will go to your allotment and sit around a fire while someone plays the guitar and you eat the vegetables you have accumulated from the day? Ha
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From: Eden E
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at 4:56 PM
To: Adam -
My dear Adam,
You sound quite weary and I'm touched that you thought of me before falling asleep.
Tomorrow night I plan on going to a bonfire on the beach. Sunday, I will be kicking and punching things, perhaps people.
I am not sending you to bed because you're already there!
I have a bunch of burning questions for you waiting when you have time.
Good night.
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From: Adam -
Date: Fri, Aug 3, at 5:00 PM
To: Eden E
I am ruined this evening.
That's the loophole is it? If I'm already in bed it doesn't count? Ha
OK. Then I await your questions in the morrow.
Good night.
Eden exited and logged off her work computer with satisfaction. She had been reserved but not rude. He seemed apologetic, even though there had been no need for him to be. They "met" on Twitter and she should expect nothing of substance from an event born of transience.
She was still wary when he e-mailed her very early the following morning. She took her time replying.
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From: Adam -
Date: Sat, Aug 4, at 3:15 AM
To: Eden E
Good morning my dear, 12:15 here. Not at all. I am not the inconsiderate kind.
What is this business of kicking and punching about?
I'm heading out to meet the building manager about the library.
Though it was endearing that you weren't “sending me to bed”, that still warrants me calling you mother.
Burn me with your questions then.
Until soon,
Adam
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From: Eden E
Date: Sat, Aug 4, at 8:02 AM
To: Adam -
Good morning/afternoon!
Do you ever wake up wanting to devour everything in sight? Life included? That's what I felt like this morning and then I saw an e-mail from you. So I'm sitting with a big plate of 2 eggs, sausages, hash browns and toast. Americans at least know the meaning of a proper breakfast, grant us that.
Ready for a barrage? You’ve provoked my curiosity:
Why is it that retired men tell you that they’re thankful not to have lived your life?
You sound soul-weary at times, as though you’ve lived much at such a young age.
You also sound as if you wish you were living in a different time – do you not feel as if you belong in this era? If not, in which age would you rather live?
You say that you’re not the same as when you were younger. What were you like then and how is it different from the way you are now?
What is the darkness in you?
What’s your favorite scent?
To start off with -
Eden
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From: Adam -
Date: Sat, Aug 4, at 8:16 AM
To: Eden E
Good afternoon you,
It's funny, when your message came through then, it showed a preview on my iPad saying; "Do you ever wake up wanting ..." I thought, what can the end of that sentence be? Ha
You certainly know the meaning of a cardiac-inducing breakfast. The English are quite good at that too, though there are always some baked beans as well.
I am not very good in the mornings, ever.
Don't devour me, mother!
Ready.
Retired/old men (a few, not a lot), have made that comment when they have learned about my life, and what I have experienced, and what I have been through to arrive where I am today.
Yes, I've lived a lot at my age, at anyone's age.
In some ways I don't feel truly as if I belong in this era. However, I take issue with some of the accepted norms of the past. Like in the 1950s, which would have suited me well, there were great social issues that would disturb me, frankly. It's a tough nut to crack. I think we have to accept the era we exist in, draw from the past, and selectively participate in the present.
When I was younger, I had to survive. I was "invited" to leave home at 15 and fend for myself. Sometimes you have to bend the rules to have any modicum of comfort and normality when you are in such a situation. Also, I was an asshole, self-indulgent, with an attitude, especially when I started to acquire the money and the spoils, that I was somehow entitled to the world, and everything in it, and my attitude was, fuck everyone else. But I grew up, and my wisdom evolved.
Now, I am more patient, reserved, considerate, wise, aware, less selfish, and I have a better understanding of people and society.
The darkness in me. Well, for example, if you were my wife, and somebody harmed you, I would harm said person equally, if not more. In fact, a great deal more, and the ways and means I have in order to do so are perhaps somewhat more resourceful than your average Joe. I have a huge patience threshold, but when it runs out, well, it's not a sight to behold. Not that I am a violent man or anything of that nature.
My favourite smell, other than a woman's when she wants me (either you're getting to grips with my dry humour, or now you think I'm perverted), is old books, the musty smell of a house left unlived in for a few years, coffee in the morning, petrol.
Keep going, Edie, your questions don't daunt me.
A
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From: Eden E
Date: Sat, Aug 4, at 8:28 AM
To: Adam -
Tell me about your day so far. I imagine you waking up a monster until you've gotten your first sip of coffee or whiff of petrol(???). Then what happened?
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From: Adam -
Date: Sat, Aug 4, at 8:35 AM
To: Eden E
You have no comment on my answers?
My day so far. I'm not much of a monster, just quiet until I get a few doses of caffeine and nicotine. I woke up, pleasured myself, had coffee and smoke, read some news on my iPad. Took a shower. Drove to meet the builders. Had a meeting regarding the library.
