The Other Side - Chapter 3

"The Other Side - Chapter 2" 

Jacob stepped off the plane in Kenema, Sierra Leone and stretched his arms high above his head with a groan. He hated long plane rides. The flight from JFK to Freetown had been a disgusting 21 hours. It was all he could do to hop on the slightly terrifying puddle-jumper than took him from Freetown to Kenema in just an hour and a half.

Still, it provided him plenty of time to get “in-touch” with himself, as his mother used to say. That many hours of flying in the dark would do that to a person. Jake figured it was after about fourteen hours of travel that it finally clicked he was doing something for himself. He was traveling because he wanted to travel – not because he had to. He felt his initial worry and feeling of stupidity start to drain away. Even if this was a silly idea and Becky turned out to be nothing, at least it got him a well deserved vacation.

"Come on, buddy boy. Let's get moving." Chris boomed, coming up behind Jacob and patting him on the back. Jacob rolled his eyes and started walking through the small airport toward the bus terminal. It would still be another 4 hours before they reached Sulima. I could have taken my "soul vacation" in Honolulu, instead I'm going to Nowhereville, Sierra Leone.

For a second, he felt odd. He looked down at his hands. Had he forgotten something on the plane? Something was wrong. Jacob looked around. Not wrong, maybe just different. But he couldn't put his finger on it...then it dawned on him. There weren't any screaming girls here.

He smiled. Girls chasing him around had become a part of his life. His shirt was not going to be ripped off. It was such a relief.

Chris waved him forward and pointed to a coffee sign. "We need some caffeine." Jake followed his bodyguard's large stature. He really was an intimidating man. With dark skin, shaved head, and rippling biceps, he fit the image of exactly what a bodyguard should look like.

They got some coffee, picked up their bags, and were off to the bus. Jake looked at the rusty, silver bullet with trepidation. He was used to a life of extravagance - this was going to be some significant culture shock. Still, as he boarded the bus, he knew he was lucky. Using his immense income, Karlee had chartered the bus and he and Chris were the only passengers. Being Jacob Jones has its perks. Jacob was glad the sky was still dark with night; he didn't feel the least bit guilty about falling asleep within minutes.

Jake awoke to Chris' firm grip on his shoulder.

"We here?" Jake slurred, squinting against the light of the sun.

"Welcome to Sulima. It looks like a small place - well, a small place on the verge of being big." Chris gathered their things, tipped the driver, and got off the bus in front of their hotel.

Jacob took a moment to look around. Sulima was a contradiction. Tall gnarled trees hosted deep, green leaves and, even from his hotel, he could see the shimmering glare of a river on the horizon. Still, the earth here was mostly red clay and sand. It seemed that with the clearing of the forest lands to accomodate the growth of the town, dust became a normal part of the atmosphere . It wasn’t hard for Jacob to realize that just outside of the city there was a rain forest. As Jacob’s eyes scanned the sky, he could see dark clouds rolling in. It wouldn’t be long before there was a downpour. Africa wasn't anything like he remembered from when he was shooting his film here. It looked beautiful - a chaotic calm. Maybe it was different because he was here for a different reason. Maybe it was beautiful because he wanted to be here.

Jacob didn't pay attention anymore to where he stayed; all the hotels looked the same. Their location was normal by American standards but luxurious for Sulima. It was painted a regal blue with large windows. It looked like each room had a balcony and the big sliding doors opened to a very clean lobby with parquet flooring. Jacob knew they were in the touristy part of town. The shops were small, squat, but sturdy. They were surrounded by construction - apparently they were trying to build up some "nice" locations for the travelers. There wasn't much, a couple of well kept hotels, some western looking restaurants, a few lines of shops with glass-fronts displaying their wares. It would be enough to keep most tourists happy.

By the time Jacob and Chris settled themselves into their ajoining rooms, it was approximately noon. Jacob lay back on the bed - he slept so much during the trip he didn't feel the least bit tired. Jake actually felt relaxed. He was in a fabulous room, decorated in calming blues and silvers with a kitchenette and bathroom. But the best part was he didn't have to worry about anything, anything at all for two whole weeks. Chris entered his room from their joining door and sat on the bed next to him.

"Why did you want to come to Africa anyway, Jake?"

Jacob's eyes shot open. Oh right. He came to Africa with a purpose.

He looked at Chris sheepishly. He picked at a loose thread in the comforter. His stomach churned. Chris was a trusted friend, but he didn't really want to reveal to Chris how much he hated acting, and how desperate he was to find a way out.

"Karlee didn't tell you?"

Chris shook his head, and Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. Oh well, here it goes. "I got this letter from this girl..." he started.

Chris immediately burst out laughing. "You came here because a girl wrote to you?" Chris asked, and laughed even harder.

Jacob turned red. He really didn’t expect Chris to understand, but he didn’t exactly like being laughed at. Jacob waited for him to calm down before explaining it all – the stupid letter in the bottle, how frustrated he was with show business, and how Becky seemed to be the only person to understand. Once Jake was done, Chris was no longer laughing.

"Wow, I never would have guessed you were so sick of the acting world," He responded, trying to be as gentle and understanding as a six foot tall man with rippling biceps could be.

Jacob nodded. "Well, I never thought someone would find the bottle. But this Becky girl did, and I don't know, I just felt like I needed to see her in person." He shrugged.

Chris eyed Jacob for a moment and then grinned, his straight white teeth contrasting with this dark skin. “You know, what Jake-y boy?” He clapped his hand on Jake’s back. “I’ve been working for you, with you, for a few years now and I think this is the first time I’ve seen you ambitious. I may think you’re crazy but at least you’re going for something, and that ain’t gonna hurt a thing.”

Jake looked over at his bodyguard and couldn’t help but return the wide grin. “Chris, I couldn’t agree more.”

Chris gave him a big wink and then stood up, his arms stretched wide.

"Well what are you waiting for? Go find her!"

---

Becky leaned up against the doorjamb and sighed. It was after noon. Outside it was gloomy and overcast. The rain burst from the sky and now it kept pouring and pouring... and pouring. Jim walked up beside her and rested his elbow up on her shoulder. "Rain is depressing, isn't it?"

She pursed her lips. "I usually like rain. I'm just in the mood to be cooped up today. But it sure has cooled down."

Jim nodded in agreement and sifted his fingers through his thick blonde hair. "How soaked to you think your parents are right now?" he asked.

Becky smirked. "Drenched." She imagined her parents walked through muddy trails around the village, their clothes plasterd to them but, knowing her family, they would probably be beaming with excitement. Her parents, long-time UNICEF workers whose sole job was to go around to remote places of the world and find health and medicine improvement opportunities, had arrived in Sierra Leone a month and a half earlier, with Becky in tow. Becky had participated here and there with relief efforts, but mostly she was using Sulima as a break from reality after finishing her first year in college.

Jim chuckled, but then turned serious. "How long before we get dragged into helping, do you think?"

Becky raised an eyebrow. Delany and Jim had arrived only a week ago, mostly to keep Becky company. Becky's parents were going on a week long safari to make contact with more nomadic trips in the area and, since there wouldn't be room for Becky to go with, they didn't want her to be alone. "Jim - don't you want to help the people around here?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Well sure, but I'm not sure I would want to do it in the rain."

Becky laughed and shrugged at the weather. "That's fair. But I'm going stir crazy." She felt a sudden burst of energy. "What the heck, I can't wait for it to stop before I go out and have fun. This is after all the rainy season for Sierra Leone! I'm going for a ride." She reached over to the coat rack and pulled a thin, orange poncho over her t-shirt and jean shorts and then wove her ponytail through a worn baseball cap.

"You want company?" Jim asked hesitantly, looking at the rain on the glass.

Becky grinned and pinched Jim's cheek. "Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine on my own, though I appreciate the offer." She looked at him fondly. "I won't be out long. Tell my parents I'll just be downtown if they call...which I'm sure they will." She tugged on the cap and jogged to the shed where her bike was housed.

After a few minutes, Becky made it into town safe and sound. Her sneakers were a little soggy, but she didn't mind.

She grinned at a few people trying to shelter themselves from the weather. Making her way through the outskirts of town, Becky hit a few puddles, red mud splattering her bare legs. She pedaled faster, feeling her heart race in her chest. She loved the feeling of the cool rain on her face. She could never have taken a bike ride like this back at home – there was always traffic, congestion, pollution – somewhere in her two weeks in Africa, she had fallen in love with the place. Riding down the middle of the dirt road to avoid the puddles, she started to turn off to another street when, all of the sudden, a flash of blue squealed to a halt, bumping against her bike.

“Hey!” It was all Becky could shout before she steered a sharp turn and plowed right into a display on the sidewalk. The next instant she was on the ground, her bike lying haphazardly on top of her. She lay there for a moment, dazed sprawled out uncomfortably in the mud. Nearby people ran to Becky's aid, helping her up.

A young man jumped out of the blue sports car. In his attempt to swerve, he landed the entire front of his car in a trench that filled with mud throughout the day. He tossed his hands up in the air in frustration. Becky slowly got to her feet, muttering thank you to the people. She glared at the man through the rain. Like his car, he looked very high class. Even though his brown hair was now plastered to his forehead due to the rain, his skin was tanned and blemish-free. His eyes were a deep green and his jawline chiseled. The man looked no older than twenty.

Becky wiped the rain from her face and nodded to the helpful Africans, indicating she would be fine. She composed herself and marched up to the young man who had yet to acknowledge her. He didn't notice her and kept cursing at himself.

“I’ve been driving around for the past freakin’ hour and a half and I still can't find the flippin’ road and now this! I knew Chris should have come with me. Bull shit that I need to find her alone…”

Becky's anger flared.

"You know," she hissed. He twirled around to face her. For a moment, she felt as though she had seen him before but her anger pushed the thought away. "I don't know who you are, but you have a lot of nerve to just run right into me and not apologize."

Jacob's eyes sparked a little and his nostrils flared. "Well, you're the one who ran your bike in front of my car! My car is now stuck in a huge gutter of a ditch! Either of us could have been killed!"

Who does he think he is?!

"I really appreciate your concern." Becky snapped.

Jacob threw his hands in the air and turned his back to her.

Becky glared at the back of his head. Enough was enough. "Give me your keys."

"What?" Jacob stared at her, wide-eyed, like Becky had another head growing off her neck.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll steer your car and you can help pull it out of the trench. You really expect a tow truck to come and pull your..." Becky scrutinized the car in suspicion. "... your Porsche out? This is Sierra Leone, if you haven't noticed. You're lucky if you can find cattle to work on your farm."

Jacob glanced over at his car. "Listen, it's raining, I'm soaked, and there is no way I am going to get cover myself with even more mud. Besides, I'm not letting you drive my car."

Becky nodded in understanding. "Okay," she picked up her bike. "Leave your car, then. I'm going home. Bye." She swung her leg over the seat of the bike.

"Wait!" Jacob sighed, rolled his eyes, and tossed her the keys.

Becky shot a look at him and spoke a few foreign words to the townspeople who witnessed everything. Several nearby fishermen offered to help, one bringing a thick rope. Becky got in the car and started it. She watched as Jacob looped the rope around the hook on the back of his car and did his best to communicate with the Africans. Becky snorted, evilly finding his confusion comical, before she hit reverse and the men pulled at the vehicle. A couple of nearby construction workers decided to help out by jumping in the trench, waist-deep in the mud, and push on the front of the car.

After what seemed like forever, the car was back on the road. Becky hopped out and handed Jacob his keys. He just stood there, covered in mud that splattered up from the back wheels digging in the soggy ground. Without another word to him, Becky pedaled away on her mountain bike.

--

Becky still felt the edge of irritation as she arrived home. She hopped off the bike while it was still rolling and shoved it into the shed. She knew she should clean it off before the stubborn red clay hardened but she felt far too frustrated to be responsible. So much for her relaxing. Instead of feeling refreshed, she felt sick. It wasn't so much that he was rude, it was that he was so clearly American and rude. She glared as she remembered the cocky boy with his pretty car. He didn't know anything about this place, that much was obvious. Her face burned with frustration. It was embarassing - those Africans saw that American who not only flaunted his money with that ridiculous, impractical car, but also couldn't even take care of himself. She was ashamed.

She tossed her ball cap and poncho over the porch railing and lowered herself onto the top step with white peeling paint. Becky pulled at her shoes but stopped halfway as a mud-covered blue Porsche drove past her house. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, appalled at the way the man was staring up at her house. He almost passed the house when she saw his reverse lights come on and he backed into the driveway.

Becky felt her mouth drop open in shock. "What are you doing here?" Becky exclaimed as he got out of his car. Oddly enough, he looked as surprised as she felt.

"Uh... I'm sorry." Suddenly he looked down at his clothes which were still covered in mud. He looked even more sheepish than when his car was in the ditch. Slowly, he walked up to the front of the house. Becky instinctively back pedaled closer to the front door.

"Wow, I..." He gave her one of the oddest looks she ever received. "I...wasn’t going to stop. I was just going to drive by so after I got cleaned up I could come back but – was that really you? I mean…please, you wouldn't happen to be...well..."

Becky put her hands on her hips. Never mind being afraid of this guy, he couldn't even formulate a sentence.

"Is your name Becky Edwards?"

Becky let her hands drop from her sides, tilting her head in confusion. Did he ask some of the people after he left what her name was? Would they have known?

His entire body relaxed with relief. "You are. I can't believe it. What were the chances? Of all the people in Sierra Leone, I almost ran over the one girl I was looking for."

Becky's eyebrows lifted. Am I missing something?. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about? If you came here to apologize, I accept. Otherwise, you're really starting to freak me out."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you think, maybe we could go inside and talk? Or...?"

Becky looked at him in disbelief. "What? What are you talking about?" She shook her head. "Listen, I don't know you, and at this point I think I would really just like you to go and leave me -"

He held up his hands, mud-streaked. "My name is Jacob Jones - well, Kilmer, well... I got your letter. And I had to see you."

"The Other Side - Chapter 4"