The Other Side - Chapter 5

"The Other Side - Chapter 4" 

Jacob waved his key card in front of the electronic reader of his hotel room door. The light flashed green and he stepped inside. The two lamps framing the queen-sized beds were on, casting a warm glow over the pale green comforters and matching pillow cases. Jacob tossed his keys next to the table lamp on the wooden nightstand before pulling on the propped open ajoining room door.

Chris was munching on room service, sitting in a wide, overstuffed brown chair that matched a chair in Jacob's room. Chris lifted his chin in a greeting before waving his hand at the food service cart laden with snacks - some of the packaged goods were familiar brands but some of them were not. He then turned his attention back to the ancient-looking television set which was sitting on top of a wide, wooden entertainment center.

"What are you watching?" Jacob asked as he fell into the matching overstuffed couch next to Chris. He kicked off his muddy, completely ruined, loafers and threw his feet up on the mahogany finished coffee table.

Chris shrugged as he swallowed his mouthful of food. "Something foreign. It's about time you got back - how did it go?"

"Just peachy." He refused to acknowledge the bitter edge to his tone and grabbed a can of soda off the cart. "You know... from that letter, I'd never have guessed that this Becky girl was such a brat."

Chris's eyebrows rose. "Why is that?"

"She wouldn't even listen to me!" Jacob huffed, his voice rising. "She just freaked out and told me to get out of the house. Even after I told here that I came all this way, essentially, for her!"

Jacob looked toward his bodyguard, expecting sympathy, but found him instead struggling to keep back his laughter.

"Give me a break, Jake." Chris said, brushing the crumbs off his King Kong sized hands and onto the floor. "You say that you want a little normalcy? It's pretty darn normal for someone to treat you like crap every now and then, your royal highness. You're just too stuck in your egotistical mind to realize what you've got here. You're free, Jacob. Temporarily, but you're a free man! Enjoy it! Can't you see that Becky's giving you the opportunity of your life?"

Jacob growled and ripped open a bag chips, causing them to fly everywhere. He took a deep breath to keep his cool and started picking up the chips, one by one. He wasn't going to flip out on Chris. He was going to be calm and try to see the truth through the insults. "If she's giving me such an opportunity, why is she acting so stuck up and sour? She acts like she doesn't want me here, yet she wrote the letter to me. What's up with that?"

"You're an actor, Jones. People just aren't going to trust you right off the bat. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

Jacob nodded. He knew what Chris meant. And he knew what Becky meant. But that didn't mean he liked any of it. Oh, who am I kidding? Jacob had no idea what he was getting himself into when he came to Africa. And now that he was here with his only one plan foiled, he was even more lost than he was before.

----

Becky just couldn't believe him. She stormed out of the kitchen room and went up to her bedroom, ignoring the confused looks of Delany and Jim as she passed by. Ugh, I can't believe the nerve of that guy! She flopped down on her bed, crossing her arms over her chest. She was trembling. From what? Anger? Frustration? Becky felt like someone had picked her up and shaken her like a martini.

She pressed her hands over her face, ignoring the dying light that was coming through her window, illuminating the bare, white walls, the paint peeling from the corners because of the humid, rainy weather. The instant she met him, she had been knocked off-kilter. It was the way he looked at her, how his eyes showed everything he felt, the arrogance in the way he talked to her as if they'd known each other forever...

"What am I, star struck?" Becky asked to the palms of her hands. She pulled her hands away from her face and sat up. She lowered her gaze, running her hands along the seams of her khaki skirt, letting her hand travel over the soft cotton of her silvery-gray sheets. She wasn't seeing anything though - she was just thinking about how startled and hurt he had looked when she asked him to leave.

The anger was starting to simmer down, replaced by a sharp stab of guilt. What had come over her? She put her bare feet on the warped wooden floor and began to pace, taking the night apart piece by piece in her head.

"Jacob Jones acted like a complete, self absorbed jerk," Becky said, critically, her mouth in a frown. She walked to the edge of her room and turned. "But I probably overreacted too." After all, it must have scared him, hitting her like that. Then, he came to her house to... what? See her.. Why? Because she wrote him a letter replying to a very personal note that no one was really supposed to see.

Suddenly, Becky felt like the complete jerk. What more did she want? The more she thought about it, the more unfair she thought she had been. He left to try and stop the argument, rather than drag it out. He did the right thing and she shouldn’t have let him leave. After all, he did come all of the way to Africa because of her letter. Even though that fact scared her, it was a fact nonetheless.

Becky's eyes went to the window. The sun was going down quickly, spreading warm golden-orange rays across the room. She pulled open her door and walked out in the hall, catching Delany's back turning the corner. Becky wanted to see if she could find Jacob. It wouldn't be very hard; there were only so many high class hotels in Sulima. Quickly, Becky dodged down the hallway and out into the shed where she grabbed the spare bike which was actually clean. Tucking her skirt under her she rode into town, careful to avoid the mud puddles.

----

Becky stood in the lobby of Jacob's hotel, pulling at her skirt nervously. She knew it was his hotel because it was the best in Sulima - and there was a muddy blue car in the parking lot. The lobby was adorned in gold and blue wall coverings. The wooden parquet floor glimmered under a recent waxing.

What do I do now? She pulled her baseball cap low over her eyes, trying not to look suspicious. She stood behind a tall green potted palm, avoiding attention from the front desk. It seemed as if she had exhausted her espionage skills. Aside from Jacob walking out of the elevator, she had no idea how to find him.

I wonder if I could somehow seduce the boy behind the counter... Becky looked at the dark-skinned teenager who was trying to appear professional despite his obvious boredom. Becky felt herself blush at the idea and groaned inwardly.

You're just looking for Jacob, not starring in one of his movies.

She heard the phone ring at the front desk. Maybe while the boy was distracted she could somehow hack into the directory...?

"Ah, yes, you would like to speak to Wilma Flintstone, you said?" The boy spoke carefully, his African accent thick around the English words. "Room 604. Just one moment and I will connect you."

Becky held back a gasp. Wilma Flintstone? Obviously a fake name - and what were the chances that there was someone else important enough to need a fake name in this hotel?

Becky moved quickly over to the elevators, taking care not to look at the front desk. She pushed the up button and waited for the familiar ding; the doors slid open. What does this make me, Betty Rubble? She wondered as she stepped into the elevator.

----

Jacob let out a sigh as he walked into the bathroom of his hotel suite. He flipped the light switch and tried to avoid looking at the mirror and seeing the face of one of America's biggest stars. He turned on the water and splashed some on his face. He had just finished talking to Graham who had been trying to get a hold of him all day - apparently their cell phones were spotty at best here. Graham informed him that already there were major appearances booked for after his vacation. Along with all the filming that he'd have to do between gigs. He just needed to relax. Of course, right when he thought this, there was a knock at the door.

Jacob patted his face dry with a white cotton towel. He hadn't ordered room service. Chris hadn't either; he was out cold on his bed in the next room.

He pursed his lips and jogged to the door, slowly pulling it open to find... no one. Jacob swallowed hard out of frustration and glanced from left to right. He was not in the mood to play doorbell ditch. Jacob shut the door and headed back to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Halfway to the bathroom, he heard another knock. Jacob swung his head back and let out a heavy sigh that was sure to evolve into a scream soon. He ran to the door and opened it again. There lay the empty hall, nothing to be seen except for some sort of tree planted in a large pot about a quarter of the way down the hall to his right. Jacob slammed the door.

Jacob shook Chris awake. "Man, get up. Someone's playing games with me. They keep on knocking on the door and won't show themselves."

Chris rolled over and waved him off. "It's probably just some fan of yours."

"No one knows I'm here. Get up. I'm going to hide out in the hall and see who keeps on knocking. You stay in here."

Chris moaned and rolled over. "Whatever, man."

"Some bodyguard you are," Jacob mumbled. "I'll just take care of this myself."

"Sounds great," Chris said, garbled, before emitting a loud snore.

Jacob stealthily tiptoed out of Chris' door in his white tank top and blue plaid pajama pants, looking around. He hid in the alcove of the neighboring door. He hoped no one in the room decided to come out quickly.

This kid is going to regret playing games on room 604.

----

Behind the plant on the right side of Jacob's door, Becky pulled her knees up to her chin and took a deep breath. She had knocked twice and still couldn't work up to courage to show herself. Whether it was embarrassment from being such a snob toward Jacob earlier or that she was being downright shy, she didn't know. What she did know was that she had better appear before he got too steamed.

What do I say to him? I'm really sorry how I acted, Jacob. I'm going to give you a second chance. Becky shook her head and rolled her eyes. Jacob, you came here to see me. I'm going to keep my end of the bargain... Bargain? What bargain? Becky shook her head again and almost laughed at herself. Normally, she was never at a loss of words. Forget it.

Becky stood and headed for the door once again. She raised her fist, ready to rap her knuckles against the door.

-----

Jacob lunged at the skinny kid under a ratty baseball cap and tackled the person to the floor.

"Ack!" The kid yelped and pushed at the knee that Jacob pressed into the small of the back. "Get off me!"

"Not until you tell me why you insist on - oh shit -" Jacob rolled off his victim at once, realizing it wasn't some little kid but Becky's slender frame he had crushed under him. "Becky! I— I'm sorry, I didn't..."

She placed her hand over her nose. "Oh, gosh darn it. I think you broke my nose." Becky squeezed her eyes shut. "You'd think a guy would appreciate a girl coming to apologize," she said in a nasal voice. "But instead, he pushes her over and breaks her nose." Becky pushed herself up, wobbling a little.

Jacob guided Becky into the room and set her down on the bed. Chris, always on alert, was snoring lightly in the other room. Gently, Jacob closed the ajoining door in order to not wake him. He then shifted his concentration back to Becky, squatting in front of her as she sat on the end of the bed. He raised one eyebrow at her mixed outfit – she still wore the red tank and khaki skirt from earlier but her jean jacket, muddy tennis shoes and now askew baseball cap indicated she left her house rather spontaneously. Jacob sat down next to her and gently pulled off her cap, letting her brown locks fall past her shoulders.

"Move your hand," he said.

"No," Becky responded like a stubborn child.

"Oh, come on. I wanna see if I broke your nose or not and estimate how much money I need to spend to get it fixed." Jacob was trying to be lighthearted. "Did my head do that?"

Becky nodded, and Jacob cautiously pulled her hand away. Her hand was warm to the touch.

"Touch it and you're a dead man, Jones," she warned.

Jacob raised an eyebrow and caught her brown eyes with his green ones. Her eyebrows were pulled into a glare, but the expression in her eyes didn't seem to say anger.

"Is that a threat?" He asked. "You better be careful, I know some big people, and I don't just mean Chris." Jacob reached for a tissue on the night stand and pinched her nose. "I don't see any blood, but we'll see if this gets any. I really don't think it's broken."

"Owww, ow ow!" She waved her hands furiously and squeezed her eyes shut. "And thanks for the diagnosis. You should play a doctor in your next flick."

Jacob rolled his eyes. “You’re right; I’m just testing role possibilities. It’s not like I’m trying to help or anything.”

Becky replaced his hand with hers and studied his face for a second. "I'm sorry, that was mean. You aren't so thoughtless after all." She pulled away the tissue. "No blood, but, man, it hurts."

He shrugged and took a seat on the bed next to her. "I'm really sorry, Becky." He looked down at his hands. "For a couple of things."

When he raised his eyes again, he found her staring at him again. Jacob felt a tingle go up his spine. Her hair, semi smashed from the baseball cap, fell around her shoulder in waves. He felt like her eyes were speaking to him - she looked curious, but maybe almost confused...

"Jacob, do you want to take a walk? I think we have to talk."

----

"... Why don't you like acting? What made you get into it anyway?"

Becky watched Jacob as he stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. Jacob had changed into jeans, more suitable for going outside, but left on the white tank. She tried to focus her gaze on his face, but it was distracting. His arms and shoulders were just so well-defined... Becky focused on leading the way, aiming toward the road running parallel to the river. She could just make out the river in the distance, its current causing the water to glisten. The moon was out to light their path.

"I was young and eager to be liked. I had talent and I knew how to use it."

She looked at him. "You couldn't have been that young."

"I was thirteen in my first movie. I'm nineteen now. I have more time on my contract. Man, what a life... heck, I haven't even had a life." Jacob scuffed the toes of his tennis shoes on the side of the unpaved road.

Becky stared up at the stars and kicked a few pebbles as they walked down the street. "You didn't answer my original question. Why don't you like acting?"

Jacob cleared his throat. "To be honest, I haven't talked about it before. But, I guess that's why I'm here."

Jacob hesitated. He turned his head, and his soft eyes found Becky's in the moonlight. His words came quickly. "My mom died two years ago of breast cancer. It was... hard. Really hard. But - gosh, and this is part of the reason why I'm so conflicted. I don't want to sound cruel or anything, but after that, I felt free for a little bit. I felt like nothing was holding me back. When I was twelve, I starred in my school production of Oklahoma!. My mom thought I was incredible and did everything in her power to get me in Hollywood. When I was thirteen, I got a supporting role in Thunder Days and everything went uphill from there. It was all Mom's doing. She chose what movies I did whether I wanted to or not. I loved Ma and everything she did for me, but once she died, I felt like I could do my own thing. So I kept acting, picking what I wanted to do." Jacob paused and shook his head. "Except I'm starting to realize that it wasn't like my mom was picking the wrong role for me. I don't think there are roles for me. I don't think this business is for me."

He cleared his throat and rubbed his toe on the ground. "People have no clue, you know? They think everyone in the business has such a glamorous life when, like I said, we don't even have lives."

Becky stared at him in silence, watching carefully as he continued his speech. All she did was ask one little question and he responded by pouring out his life like a waterfall. It was obvious to her that he was in serious need of just having someone sit down and listen. She watched his strong-set jaw, illuminated by some dim street lights and the moon, as it clenched with his words. His lips were pulled down at the edges as his discussed his thoughts.

Who talks like this to a stranger? She wondered, watching curiously as he alternated between talking to her and talking toward his feet. She felt pity for him.

"It just shows how easily people can get brainwashed." Jacob continued, and Becky refocused on what he was saying. "The majority of people in this world don't look for genuineness or originality." Jacob crossed his arms in front of his chest and faced Becky. "You're the most authentic person I know."

Becky pulled the small packet of ice they grabbed from the hotel desk away from her face. "You don't know me that well, but thank you."

Jacob gazed at her for a second. "Somehow I feel like I do. When you wrote me back you didn't say anything like, 'Oh, it can't be that bad! Your life must be great!' Why didn't you?"

Becky watched him for a moment, feeling the intensity of his gaze, even in the dark of the evening. "Because I don't look for the mask," Becky replied, tilting her head as she looked at him. "The voice I heard in your letter wasn’t making a scene – it was making a plea."

"It's just not what I ever thought it would be." Jacob scratched his chin. "I think... I think that's why I came to you, Becky. Because you get it. Not because I wanted to turn your world upside down. But because I wanted you to change my world."

They had stopped walking. The weather had chilled significantly as the sun went down, but the breeze still held the smell of salt and river weeds. She stared at him for a long time. His eyes were intent on her, watching her as if he was trying to read her thoughts in her irises. It was as if he was trying to figure out who she was - was he trying to figure out why he had flown across an ocean to speak with a girl in tennis shoes and a skirt? The question made her stomach swirl with butterflies.

"Becky..." His green eyes probed her brown ones. "I want you to show me what I've missed. I want you to introduce me to the other side."

Becky looked over at Jacob, watching his face carefully. It was easy for her to only see a movie star. But his words, well they were from a real, regular person.

"Jake, I -" Becky tilted her head, watching the way the moonlight played off his features. Her heart thumped and before she knew it, the words had escaped from her mouth. "I can try."

A slow smile spread across Jacob's face, but before he had a chance to respond, a jingling filled the night air. Jacob swore aloud and rummaged in his pocket for the phone, mumbling that he wished he would have left it back at the hotel. Becky took a step back and touched her nose. It felt better. The call was obviously from Chris, and it didn't take Jacob long to snap the phone shut and shove it back into his pocket. Suddenly, he seemed like a movie star again.

"God, no matter what I do I have to be kept track of! Chris was yelling at me because I left without telling him. What am I? A two year old?" He sighed and planted his hands in his hips, looking to the ground. Becky didn't say anything; she just kept her eyes down.

"I'm sorry. Come on back to the hotel and I can drive you home," Jacob said with a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair.

Becky shook her head. "Actually, I have my bike. It's not problem." She said, and Jacob looked uncomfortable.

"But it's so dark, can't I -"

Becky held up her hand to silence him. "I love the night ride, really, and I have a light. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Oh, well, okay. Thanks for -" He sighed. "Thanks for coming around tonight. I'm glad that I could at least meet you. I'm real sorry about your nose. I hope it'll be okay."

Becky gave him a half smile. "I'll keep icing it."

Jacob looked at her for a moment longer and then, with a little wave of his hand, he turned around and jogged off toward the hotel. Becky watched him go, unmoving. She hadn't bothered to tell him she left her bike right in front of the hotel. She felt like she needed to walk back alone.

As Becky walked slowly to her bike she thought things over. Okay, all in one day I have been run over, had a movie star in my house wearing my friend's clothing, snuck up to Jacob's room, almost had my nose broken, taken a midnight walk with the most desirable guy in the world and had my emotions put on a crazy roller coaster ride.

Becky groaned and put her hand to her head and nose. She really needed to lie down.

"The Other Side - Chapter 6"