Take a Chance on Me

Jacob

‘Are we all done here, sir?’

‘Can I get you anything else?’

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 about

anybody. 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.’

Jacob sat up taller, pulling the diary towards him and flicking to the back pages.

‘I’m a traveller, a nomad if you will. I use these dice to tell me where I should go next.

If it’s an odd number, I have to stay where I am.

If it’s an even number, I get to leave. Then I roll again, and whatever number I throw corresponds to a place on my list.’ He pushed the scrawled page towards the waiter. ‘See …?’

The waiter’s confusion morphed rapidly into disbelief.

‘You’re joking with me?’ he gasped, running his finger down the list of destinations.

Jacob burst out laughing; other people’s reactions to his method never failed to amuse him. ‘I’m not joking, I promise.’

‘Wow,’ the waiter breathed, his eyes wider than the plates in front of them. ‘You must be very brave. Very brave indeed, sir.’

‘Most people go for “crazy”, so that makes a nice change.’

‘Crazy people can still be brave!’ He chuckled. ‘Now I shall leave you to it. Enjoy your treats and good luck with your game. I wish you only the best.’

And with that, Jacob was left alone. He closed his palm around the dice and took a deep inhale. Excitement began to bubble beneath the surface of his sun-darkened skin, adrenaline sparking like fireworks.

Two shakes and a roll. Show me, Universe, where I should go …

As he released the dice on to the table, his heart skipped a beat. He resisted the urge to celebrate out loud as he stared down at his results.

A two and a four.

Permission to go.

Jacob reached for the dice again, feeling the sense of anticipation building once more. He knew he was leaving, but now the question was, where to?

Nerves churned in the pit of his stomach as he released the dice once more.

Two fives.

Something about that felt familiar. Number ten. What on earth was number ten?

Jacob grabbed the diary and scanned down the list of destinations. As his eyes found the answer, he couldn’t help but note his pang of disappointment. The number ten was so familiar because he had already been to the country it represented. Not once, but twice before.

He tapped his finger to the page. ‘Hello, India, my old friend.’

And a friend, it truly was. In fact, it was one of his favourite countries in the world.

The chaos, the colour, the full sensory experience that greeted you around every corner.

It was the perfect place to lose yourself, and it certainly wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

Maybe the waiter was right. Maybe he was braver than he thought.

Jacob took a large mouthful of sweet tea and steadied himself. There was another task to complete before the job was finished. One more throw. One more answer to find. For every country came with its own specific list of places to visit. He had the diary open at his list for India. He was ready.

Two shakes and a roll. Show me, Universe, where I should go …

The dice clattered across the table.

A three and a four.

Lucky number seven.

Delhi.

A third visit to India and a third for Delhi, too. A place made for only the bravest.

Jacob leant back in his chair and let the sights and sounds of Delhi burst free from his catalogue of memories. Already he felt his heartbeat quicken and the adrenaline surge through his veins. It was a far cry from his tranquil Sri Lankan beach, but he knew deep down there must be a reason for it.

If he was to commit fully to the life he’d chosen, he had to believe that.

‘Oh, Universe,’ he sighed, digging his fork into one of the thick slabs of banana bread, ‘what on earth have you got planned for me next, I wonder …’ And as he bit down on the soft, sweet cake, he couldn’t ignore the prickle of electricity that spread through him.

It’s something big.

It’s got to be something big …