I
There will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning
Louis L’Amour
Jacob
Jacob didn’t need to check his diary to see today’s date. There were some things that simply couldn’t be forgotten, no matter how hard one tried. And God, had he been trying. For the past five years, he had been doing his best to convince himself that it was just another day. As remarkably unremarkable as the ones that lay either side of it. A day he could pretend had little to no importance in his life. Except this year, it did. This year it fell on one of the most important days of his week: a Monday.
Jacob downed the dregs of his tea and moved the empty cup to the side, making sure there was enough space for him to work. Like every other Monday morning, he had gone to his favourite spot in town, ordered a tea and a delicious breakfast, and prepared to plan his next adventure. The tools for the job were already laid out in front of him: his tattered notebook and trusted pair of dice.
‘Are we all done here, sir?’
No sooner had Jacob’s hand released itself from the saucer than a kind-faced waiter appeared next to him.
‘Can I get you anything else?’
Jacob looked out over the terrace; he had deliberately seated himself at the front of the restaurant so as to get the best view possible. The crystal ocean lapped lazily at the expanse of golden sand. The sun, edging its way higher and higher through the bundles of cotton clouds, gently warmed his face. How lucky he was to be here.
In more ways than one.
The thought lashed him like a red-hot band across his brain, and he physically recoiled in response.
‘Sir? Anything else for you?’
‘Yes!’ Jacob clapped his hands together, forcing himself back to reality. ‘I think I will get something.’ He promised himself that the sentiment of the day wouldn’t get the better of him. ‘You only turn thirty once, after all!’
Although it didn’t seem humanly possible, the waiter’s smile grew larger on his face. ‘It’s your birthday, sir? Oh my, why didn’t you say earlier!’ He threw his hands in the air with unfettered joy. ‘Whatever you want is on the house! And may I recommend the banana bread – it’s our bestseller.’
Jacob couldn’t help but be infected by the man’s enthusiasm. ‘Well then, in that case I’ll take two slices and another tea, please.’
‘Coming right up!’ The man gave a small bow and disappeared.
Jacob settled back into his chair and let the salty breeze dance across his skin. How had this day come around so soon? It seemed impossible that he’d already spent three decades on this planet. That thirty years ago he’d come into the world kicking, screaming, red-faced and wrinkled – into a life that now felt so far away it could belong to just aboutanybody. Could he even count those years as his? And more importantly, did he want to?
A tug behind his navel made Jacob aware that he’d spent too long reflecting. There was no more time to waste. Sri Lanka had been beautiful, but he was ready to move on. To explore somewhere new, become another nameless face in a brand-new crowd. This would be his fifth birthday by himself; each one spent in a different place, a different country. Surrounded by different people, most of whom didn’t even know he existed. Total anonymity, just the way he had planned.
Jacob reached for the dice, clenching them tightly in his fist and allowing the worn edges to dig into his flesh. It was time to roll.
‘Haaaaappy biiiiirthday to you …’
A tray of tea and cake was suddenly thrust in front of him, along with the jubilant waiter and his very out-of-tune singing.
‘… happy birthday to you!’ he finished proudly. ‘Enjoy!’
Jacob took the tray and placed it to the side, noting the chocolate icing that decorated his plate with another happy birthday message. The sentiment was so touching that, for the briefest of seconds, Jacob felt lost for words.
‘Thank you,’ he managed after some time. ‘It means a lot.’
‘My pleasure.’ The waiter nodded. ‘Now I will leave you to enjoy your birthday treats and to play your game in peace.’
‘My game?’
‘The dice.’ The man pointed to the pair clasped in Jacob’s hand. ‘They are for a game, no?’
‘Oh – yes.’ Jacob’s thoughts were thankfully directed back to the present. ‘Well … I guess you could call it a game.’ Jacob unfurled his fingers and laid his palm flat. ‘It’s the game of my life.’
Confusion etched itself deeper on to the young man’s face. ‘I don’t understand.’
