Dear Jackie,
It's the middle of the monsoon season here now, so we're getting a bit more rain than usual. That also means that it isn't so hot out, and that's always a big welcome.
Anyway, I've no idea where you get your facts, but the Sahara Desert does not cover the whole of Africa. I'm further south of the desert, so the vial of sand you requested to put a voodoo hex on Hyde and 'Stripper Wife' came from my backyard. I'm sure it'll be as effective as actual sand from the Sahara (though you might have to tweak your spell a little).
Good luck.
Always,
Eric
Jackie woke up in the morning with a sense of purpose. Certain that today things would start to go uphill for her. She took care in dressing for work, fussing about with her hair and makeup more than usual.
Christine St. George had loved her idea to tape one of the segments outdoors. "A Midsummer Special", as Jackie had proposed, and Jackie was looking forward to going to work for once.
She arrived to find the studio in a huge disarray. Papers everywhere, people everywhere, no order anywhere. Christine St. George was standing by the set, and her face was a scary shade of red. She was yelling at someone on her phone, and Jackie knew from hard earned experience not to be within twenty feet of her when she was in such a mood. She caught the arm of a frenzied-looking production assistant and pulled her aside.
"What's going on, Michelle?"
"Shit, Jackie, didn't you hear? The network cancelled Christine's show. We just got word thirty minutes ago."
Jackie was dumbstruck. Cancelled?
"Oh my God. They pulled us? But why? Ratings were going up!"
"Yeah, but not fast enough. And Christine has pissed off a lot of people in her career, and the word around is that she pissed off the wrong someone." Michelle stopped and gave Jackie a pointed look. "But you didn't hear that from me."
With a sympathetic smile, she turned and hurried off.
Cancelled. Suddenly unable to take the noise and chaos around her, she wandered down the corridors of the studio in a dull daze and soon found herself on the sidewalk outside.
As if the fates had decreed it so, the weather outside, too, matched her mood. Chilly and windy; unusual for that time of the year. Her boots clacked down the pavement as she walked with no real destination in mind.
She looked around and noticed people going about their daily lives, and she wondered if they were really as cheery as they appeared to be. If they were, then why did life just seem hell-bent on tossing yet another hurdle in her path?
Strands of hair whipped across her face and she ignored it. She walked and walked till she saw the sign for the local bar and pushed the doors open to walk right in. Seating herself at the bar, she waved to get the bartender's attention. He walked over.
"What'll it be, lady?"
"Tequila."
It flew out of her mouth before she even realized it. When she realized how similar her actions were to her mother's, she grimaced and instantly felt sick.
It was then that she opened her purse and counted out her money. She realized that she had no business spending money on useless alcohol, which depressed her even further and she hopped off the barstool and walked right out of the bar without even an apologetic look in the bartender's direction.
Numb to the cold and wind, her heels tapped out a rhythmic clack on the concrete. She hunched over and tucked her gloveless hands underneath her arms. Cancelled cancelled cancelled. It played over like a mantra in her head, in time to her footsteps. Cancelled clack cancelled clack. Another disappointment to swallow. Another failure, another notch.
What am I going to do?
She saw it at that moment. Right before the turn on the street. Old and dirty-looking, but at that time it seemed like the answer to everything. She walked into the phone booth, fished out enough coins and dialed a familiar number.
Eric answered on the third ring.
An immediate warmth filled her. "Hey," she whispered.
After Eric's first phone call to her, they had both found themselves craving the more immediate and personal interaction that a phone call offered.
"Jackie?" She heard him move a couple of things around in the background. "Hey, what's up? You sound upset."
She smiled despite herself. All this and she had only spoken one word. Had he always been so perceptive? She didn't remember him being so with Donna.
"I lost my job today," she said quietly.
Eric could tell that she was struggling to hold back tears. He wished he could hold her right now. "How?" he asked simply.
She told him. It all came out in a barrage of fear and frustration and she ended asking helplessly, "What am I gonna do, Eric?"
There was a long pause, as if he was thinking, and then he asked, "Jackie, have you tried applying to colleges?"
She snorted, and he smiled. But there was a hint of self-deprecation in the sound that Eric picked up in a flash. She continued before he could protest.
"They won't want me. I'm 'under qualified' remember," she paused a moment before she added lightly, "people think so."
"I'm not one of them."
She sighed. "I am. According to my boss. Or ex-boss now."
He sensed something else and pressed further. "Who else?"
A long pause. "Steven said something similar the other day."
"I disagree. With both of them," Eric said forcefully. "And I would have called Hyde out on it had I been there when he said whatever he said."
Jackie giggled, feeling a lot better. "Thank you, Eric." She watched as a laughing couple passed her by, wondering if she would ever be so carefree again. "You know, even if I did manage to get accepted, I still wouldn't be able to pay for it."
"What about the money that Grandma Burkhart left for you?"
"Grandma Burkhart? Nah, not her. She hates me. Thinks that I'm my mother's evil spawn or something. It's Grandma Eleanor, Eric."
"Ah. Okay. Grandma Eleanor then. Can't you use that?"
She leaned against the side of the phone booth and crossed her booted feet. "No…It's my last resort, remember? Emergencies only."
"Jackie, I would say this pretty much qualifies as last resort."
The line was silent for a long moment, then Jackie blew out a breath. "Eric, do you really think that… You know, I just…" She took a deep breath. "Eric, if this doesn't work out…" She trailed off and stared at the cars driving past her on the street. "I mean, if it doesn't… I really can't take another disappointment in my life right now."
She sounded so small and wan and it physically hurt him to know that she was facing all this on her own.
"It'll work out. You'll see. And I really think that you can do this." His voice was filled with assurance and sincerity and Jackie was touched with the amount of faith he had in her.
"I'm afraid."
"Don't be." There was a silence, and then she heard, "Come to Africa, Jackie. Just for a little while."
For a moment, her heart stopped. Then, when she registered the seriousness of his tone, it skipped another beat and she was stunned by the realization that she was a hair's breadth away from saying 'yes'.
Don't be crazy, Jackie.
Reality crashed through and shaking off the temporary insanity, she forced a lightness that she did not feel into her words. "That's crazy. There's no way our friends will take that well." And they both knew which two friends in particular she was referring to.
Eric kept silent, and she was suddenly afraid. She tried to mask it with a lame attempt at humor. "Besides, you and me alone in Africa? You know what we were like before — we'll kill this new friendship thing that we've got going here." She forced out a laugh, but it came out sounding flat. There was a pause as the gravity of what she just said struck her, and then she continued in an undertone. "Eric, I really can't bear it if it did."
At her later words, Eric felt his mood lift slightly. "It won't, Jackie. I won't let it."
Jackie let out a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding, reassured by the conviction in his words. "You don't know how much that means. To hear you say it," she said softly. She gripped the phone tighter in her hand. "You're like the only constant I have in my life right now," she said, struggling to find the right words to convey the depth of her feelings. "I feel like… A lone ship in a stormy sea. And you and your friendship are the only things that are keeping me from becoming lost or capsizing."
"Jackie, you know that I'm here for you, right?"
She smiled, and quoted how he invariably signed off in his letters to her. "Always?"
His voice was deep with feeling as he replied, "Always."
