Dear Adam

Home > Romance > Dear Adam > Page 7
Dear Adam Page 7

by Ava Zavora


  I'm not angry with my father. I've let go of it. Naturally it saddened me for a long time, but now I rarely think about it.

  Today has been quite lazy, some paperwork, some Internet, some of my American mother, some food, some self-pleasure, some coffee, some smokes, some reading.

  Audio attached. My only caveat is that you delete it by this time tomorrow. I will in turn do the same with your recording.

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 3:22 PM

  To: Eden E

  I should be awake for a while.

  She stared at the audio file Adam had sent her - "My Enemy" - as though caught in a trance. Then shaking off the strange paralysis that had gripped her, she clicked on it and heard Adam's voice for the first time.

  My Enemy

  Kissing the cheek of my enemy

  Patience, passion, and empathy with myself because I’ve seen it before

  And a massive haze of cigarettes

  It’s not a romantic setting

  Don’t be hypnotized by this nostalgic breeze

  Walk with prose and a sense of confession

  Demoralizing values in a maze of depressions

  With a belly full of gin and a heart full of gristle

  And an absence of focus

  A hastening to reason

  Inspired by hatred, inspired by love

  The morbid depression that swarms upon the rivers of blood and gold

  The lifetimes of lifeless souls

  Young, old, political ignorance

  Cold, passionate, yet with open sentiment

  Eden’s mouth hung open. She listened to it again. She accessed her e-mail on her iPod and brought it with her to the bathroom. She took off her clothes and got in the shower while Adam read the poem he wrote, letting his words wash over her bare skin. After she got out, while still dripping wet, she played it one more time. Then looked at her face in the mirror, which told her everything.

  She was in trouble.

  Wrapped in a towel, Eden sat in front of her laptop, a bit dazed. She knew that Adam was on the other side of the world, still awake and waiting for her reaction.

  One thing she was now sure of, Adam was no one she had ever met before. She could never forget a voice like his.

  If she had heard it in a crowded room, she would have been immediately captivated, pushed through and jostled bodies until she found the man to whom it belonged.

  It was deep, as she had guessed. British and educated, but neither cold nor stiff. His voice was soulful and mysterious. Commanding. Rich and hypnotic. She wanted to sink into its sensual depths and be smothered with it.

  She should have guessed from his evasive e-mail. He knew what his voice would do to her. She felt ambushed.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 3:48 PM

  To: Adam -

  Who/What is your enemy? Is it a person? An idea? Yourself?

  "Heart full of gristle" "depression that swarms upon the rivers of blood and gold" - I can't get over these images.

  Why do you want it deleted? I'll do it of course but just wondering.

  So did you ever go to university? After you left home?

  Have you seen/spoken to your mother since you were little?

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 3:53 PM

  To: Eden E

  I don't know if it's excitement or intrigue or something else that overcomes you and causes such elisions. I mean - where were you today? And, you didn't comment on my voice.

  I don't even remember what inspired me to write that. So I cannot answer.

  Because I don't trust your computer, that is why, with a seasoning of my desire for the ultimate privacy.

  I smiled when my iPad flashed to inform me you had written.

  I am glad I could offer you such vivid imagery.

  I didn't go to university, regrettably.

  I have spoken to my mother.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 4:05 PM

  To: Adam -

  Your voice. Your voice. I'm editing myself before writing anything down. That doesn't count does it? Shall I tell you something - I didn't want to open the file you sent. I hurried home and just as I was about to open it, I stopped and couldn't go on for awhile. I don't know why.

  I like your voice.

  Why don't you trust my computer? I control my computer. Does that mean you don't trust me?

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 4:09 PM

  To: Eden E

  Ha, still you don't tell me what you did this afternoon.

  Why couldn't you go on? Something more than "I like your voice"?

  Ha, that's the first ridiculous thing you've said to me since we met. You think you control your computer, but I guarantee it's as insecure and penetrable as most people’s. I don't trust technology in general. I've seen what it is capable of. It's not personal.

  And why were you editing yourself?

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 4:19 PM

  To: Adam -

  I was in the city. I was taking a Krav Maga class and afterwards I hit the heavy bags.

  I couldn't go on - because hearing your voice would make you corporeal.

  I was editing myself because obviously I didn't want to write down what I first thought of.

  I'll delete it right now.

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 4:23 PM

  To: Eden E

  Krav Maga?

  What did you first think of? I insist.

  Your absence today was noticed.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 4:29 PM

  To: Adam -

  After I listened to it once, I listened to it again. Then again.

  I was dirty and sweaty from Krav so I took a shower. And after I got out of the shower, I listened to it again. Then I got dressed.

  I have to go now because I'm having dinner at my parents' house with relatives from the East Coast. And I have to cook.

  Good night.

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 4:33 PM

  To: Eden E

  OK but that doesn't answer my question regarding what you first thought of.

  Dirt and sweat are underrated.

  Alas, I will sleep then.

  Enjoy the dinner. Well, I hope they will enjoy it.

  Good night my dear.

  Not intrigue. Not excitement. It was stubbornness which had overcame her. How could she tell him how his voice electrified her? She could feel how smug he had been, then irritated that she hadn’t fallen all over herself cooing about how sexy he sounded.

  But it was more than that. He wasn’t just an empty wit. Adam had something to say, and the combination of his voice and talent in saying it – stunned her.

  Eden put on a summer dress and wedge sandals then fixed her hair, feeling heated and out of sorts, ready to jump out of her skin. She wasn’t really cooking for dinner, just fixing a big salad, which took no time. But she wanted to undo the spell his voice and his poem had cast over her. If she wasn’t careful, she’d turn into a besotted fool.

  Once Dante came home from his dad’s, the two of them took off for her parents’ house, 15 minutes away.

  "How are you?" her mother asked as Eden kissed her cheek in greeting. She looked at Eden with a searching gaze
, something making her brow furrow a bit.

  "Good - great, Ma," Eden replied, looking over her shoulder at all the people in her parents' living room.

  Cousins she had never met before were visiting and she made a special effort not to seem distant.

  When dinner was in full swing, people out in the garden or in the kitchen eating, and the house was full of music and laughter, her mother had set Eden aside for a moment and asked her again, "You're sure you're okay?"

  Eden laughed a little. "Ma, I'm fine. Promise," then gave her another peck on the cheek.

  She was ordinarily shy, but tonight she was bubbly and talkative. Yet, she was far, far away.

  Later, one of her cousins e-mailed photos of that night, and Eden saw there was a candid one of her taken unaware. She was in the kitchen, smiling at someone out of the camera's view. There was something different about her face, whatever it was perhaps that her mother had discerned.

  Her head was filled with the stirring words of a poet, seduced by the voice of a stranger.

  Chapter 6

  Subject: Monday

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 5:12 AM

  To: Eden E

  Good morning my dear.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 7:51 AM

  To: Adam -

  My dear Adam, good afternoon!

  How are you today?

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 8:21 AM

  To: Eden E

  I increasingly notice your absence more each day, when we are busy or sleeping and such.

  From my last mail: "OK but that doesn't answer my question regarding what you first thought of."

  I am well today. Quite productive thus far, and you?

  How was dinner?

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 8:31 AM

  To: Adam -

  That is what I first thought of - that exact scene.

  I just got to work and already I'm distracted. I hope nothing important gets dropped on my desk today.

  I was late to dinner - I misunderstood the time. And when we walked in, I had the pleasure of a roomful of mostly strangers turned to my son and my seemingly rude and inconsiderate self. My son didn't want to go but I cajoled him and asked, "Don't be unsociable." He laughed and said, "You're the one who's unsociable!" It turned out to be fine and I got to know a cousin and her family. Plus, the food was great, which always makes anything bearable.

  Perhaps the poem influences what I think of your voice - You seem so grave and soul-weary. At first I put down "cynical" but that wasn't right.

  It's a voice of an outsider, dressed all in black, judging everything with unfathomable eyes. There's none of the mischief that shows up in your e-mails but then the poem itself is not very playful.

  Is that what you were seeking?

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:02 AM

  To: Eden E

  I'm glad of a decent answer, yes. Part of what you are hearing is my voice, but part of it is my feeling what I wrote as I read it.

  Do you use Skype, Edie?

  What I find especially strange is that I signed up to Twitter, and on my first day I had one contact, you, and now we are here. A statistical anomaly I would say.

  Eden gasped. Skype. Was she ready? Of course that was where all this was headed but .... still.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:40 AM

  To: Adam -

  Have I read your voice correctly?

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:41 AM

  To: Eden E

  Are you busy my dear?

  Well, from what you heard of my voice I can understand your summary, yes, though there's a little more to it than that.

  Skype...?

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:43 AM

  To: Adam -

  I've used Skype before but not lately. I'm not even sure if the account is still in existence. Is it deleted if not used?

  What do you think I'm not hearing in your voice which I should?

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:45 AM

  To: Eden E

  I thought perhaps we could have a conversation via Skype today. No, no, it is not deleted, but also extremely simple to create a new one.

  There is a warmth in my voice as well, but that would not be apparent when I read that poem.

  I asked if you are busy? Now you have a second nickname, aside from mother, it is Miss Elision.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:52 AM

  To: Adam -

  Not today! I have eruptions on my face. I look like I have the beginning stages of leprosy. Very attractive, I know.

  No, I'm not busy. I'm just weighing the merits of Skype and trying not to throw up.

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:53 AM

  To: Eden E

  No, no, I think you misunderstood. I meant for us to effectively have a phone call via Skype, not a video call.

  Trying not to throw up? I am lost my dear.

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 9:58 AM

  To: Adam -

  I guess I can talk to you despite being disfigured. But I have class tonight and I have to cook dinner when I get home. Tomorrow after work is better. I can't do it here because we don't have Skype.

  Yes, trying not to throw up. Why do you think?!

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 10:05 AM

  To: Eden E

  Either I've somehow impregnated you over the internet? If so, please inform me immediately so I can dart like a fly. Or, you had a little too much to drink yesterday? Or your rabbit diet is getting the better of you?

  OK, it's a date for tomorrow then. That will work quite well because I'll be up quite late tomorrow.

  What is this class you speak of?

  ----------

  From: Eden E

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 10:37 AM

  To: Adam -

  Yes, we'll be parents to baby binary codes.

  I rarely drink. Nor do I smoke.

  Boxing.

  ----------

  From: Adam -

  Date: Mon, Aug 6, at 10:39 AM

 

‹ Prev