on a
sunny bench and watched the tourists as she devoured her lunch.
With its Grecian-style dome and Corinthian arches surrounded by a
lagoon full of swans, the Palace was a popular spot for wedding
pictures. There were at least three newlywed couples having their
pictures taken. Brides wearing fluffy, white confections like
meringues, and dapper grooms in crisp tuxedos.
Her own wedding, a million years ago it felt
like, had been very small and simple. It had been a quiet and
mostly somber affair of 10 people. Eden tried to remember if she
had ever looked as hopeful and in love as the newly wedded couples
she saw posing around the Palace.
She felt she should hurry
home. Adam would have e-mailed her his recording by now. He'd be
waiting for her reply. But she felt like dragging her feet,
lingering in the city. Half of her couldn't wait to hear his voice
and the other half was filled with dread.
She drove home when she could not bear the
suspense any longer and bounded up the stairs to her laptop. The
five minutes it took to start seemed like half an hour. She logged
onto her e-mail, and saw that soon after she had left that morning,
Adam had sent her a reply with an attachment. Then sent her another
note a few minutes before she came home.
----------
From: Adam -
Date: Sun, Aug 5, at 10:15 AM
To: Eden E
Attach: My Enemy.vm
Well we haven't covered anything that deep,
yet, but I think for our interaction to be valid we have to make
some concessions. At least, that's my perspective.
Scheming? That's an interesting
adjective.
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.