Dear Adam by Ava Zavora

Scary. Perhaps Crime and
Punishment described true events in his
life? Yet with the heart of a poet …
    "You'll never send me a picture of you," she
stated. It wasn't a question.
    "No. Like I said, I don't trust computers. I
don't trust the Internet."
    She could tell that in this subject, he was
immoveable. It was a sensible position to take and he was answering
all her questions, as he had from the beginning. Yet the more she
found out, the more mysterious he seemed. She was certain he was
hiding something, but decided not to press him.
    "You usually wear all black," she remembered
him writing. "When did that start?"
    "When I was fourteen."
    "Do you like wearing suits?"
    "Yes. That's one of the reasons why I like
living in Sicily. It's very old-fashioned here. Men still wear
trousers and jackets every day. Every morning when I have to work I
polish my shoes."
    "Old school. And the women wear dresses?"
    "Yes."
    That should be a warning to her. He was a
manly man who probably liked ultra-feminine, old-fashioned women.
So why was he interested in her?
    As though he were reading her mind, he asked,
"Do you consider yourself a feminist?"
    "Yes," she answered warily.
    "A feminist in the modern sense or
traditional?"
    "I don't hate men if that's what you mean.
I'm raising one, after all. I don't believe that women should
subjugate men in order to feel powerful, or be necessarily in
opposition to men in order to advance in society. I believe in
equality between the sexes." She tried to keep from sounding like
she was on a soapbox. But if he was turned off, he was turned off.
Better to be upfront about their beliefs than continue under
misapprehension.
    “ Does that have anything to
do with why you box and take Krav Maga?”
    “ Uh, no.” She wondered if
he was reconsidering her, but she had warned him that she wasn’t as
feminine as she seemed.
    “ Why both?” he persisted.
“It seems like going overboard.”
    “ I wandered into boxing
accidentally. On my 35th birthday three months ago, I decided to
start a list. To try 36 new things before my 36th birthday. Boxing
was number three. I was planning on just taking one class at my
local gym then moving on but I ended up liking it. I don’t know why
really,” she confessed. “I’ve never been athletic. The opposite. I
hated sports. People in my class laugh at me sometimes. But I don’t
care.”
    “ Something about boxing
appeals to you.”
    “ Yeah. I guess because I’m
so petite and most people assume I would be too girly or nerdy to
like anything like that. I don’t like hitting people!” she added
quickly, in case he thought she was violent. “Just punching things,
like heavy bags. I wish I was a real boxer. You said you’ve boxed
since you were 15?”
    “ Yes.” She detected a
weariness in his tone. “I trained. Never fought anyone in the ring.
Always outside of it. I didn’t box because I liked it. I did it
because I had to. I was on the streets then."
    She felt silly now, a privileged dilettante.
He was the real thing. She imagined someone very young, lean, and
hungry. She suspected that he was probably a formidable and
ferocious fighter.
    "And at that time, my line of work made it
necessary.” He spoke in a way that was deliberately vague yet meant
to discourage her from asking more specific questions.
    “ You don’t need to fight
anyone now?”
    “ Not physically, no. I have
different types of opponents these days. People I’m forced to do
business with,” he said with disdain.
    Eden heard Dante arrive home from dinner with
his dad and go up the stairs.
    "Hold on," she said to Adam. "Hi, honey," she
said as Dante entered her room, his backpack slung over one
shoulder. He came over to give her a peck on the cheek, glancing
curiously at her iPod and the earbuds in her ears.
    "What'd you have for dinner?
    "Pasta."
    "Do you have any homework left to do?"
    "I've got Stats left," he said as he turned
to leave.
    "I'll just be on the phone." She closed