The Hitting Zone

Chapter 241 Stanford University: Saturday 2

Saturday morning, we rose before the sun to get ready for the day. By the time we hit the road, the sun was up and shining bright making this a clear day. Unusual for an early morning in March in the Bay Area. Mr. Atkins drove us straight to the Golden Gate Bridge and found parking nearby. Mrs. Atkins pulled out her smart phone and started to take pictures like crazy.

We walked around the nearby park, posing by the water, with the bridge in the background until she was satisfied. With Noah and the twins, I was comfortable to take pictures. They were the ones I hung out with the most and the twins were more bark than bite. Once Mrs. Atkins was done, we walked up to the bridge and started to walk across. Even though it was sunny this morning, it was still slightly cold with a breeze. I hugged my sweatshirt close to me, taking a look over the bridge while walking.

My eyes caught a blue sign bolted to one of the poles. ’There is hope, make the call.’ A phone number was listed. I stopped for a second to read the smaller writing. ’The consequences of jumping off this bridge is fatal and tragic.’ I blinked a few times, then turned to Noah, but him and the twins started to get further ahead.

"What is it?" Mr. Atkins asked me, coming up from behind. Him and his wife walked more at a leisurely pace, following us while taking more pictures.

I pointed at the sign. "People jump off the bridge?"

Mrs. Atkins worriedly looked up at her husband.

Mr. Atkins patted her shoulder. "Why don’t you catch up to the boys. Jake and I can talk about this."

She let out a sigh and hurriedly to her sons who were leaving us behind.

"Golden Gate Bridge is the second most used bridge for suicide attempts. People who are depressed, lost, and can’t see a way out come here to jump off. Most will die from impact trauma. The few that survive mostly die drowning or of hypothermia in the cold water." He sadly looked over the water then back to the sign. "There are people who care about them. They just don’t think about it. Families and friends volunteered to post these signs so others can call for help before doing something dumb."

Oh. I turned to stare down at the water. It’s a pretty big drop.

"Jake. I know we’ve only been to a few sessions with Dr. Moore and haven’t brought this up yet, but have you ever thought about suicide? Or thinking that you just can’t live a certain way anymore? Or just giving up?"

The last question made me pause. Mr. Atkins patiently waited. "I did give up. The last time my mother beat me, it was bad." I hugged my sweatshirt closer to me. "I was very tired and the pain was overwhelming. One of my last thoughts after why me, was it’d be nice if this ended. For good."

Mr. Atkins pulled me into a sudden hug. "It’s okay. I understand. That’s in the past now. From now in, if you feel scared or on the edge, come to me. To Mary. To Noah. To Zeke. To Dave or Kyle. To Dr. Moore. We’re all here to help." He pushed me at arms length to look me in the eye. "Suicide is a selfish act. Only selfish people think about their own problems and how to end things. They don’t think about who they would leave behind and what would happen if they were gone."

I nodded, swallowing a lump. I wanted to cry, but there wasn’t any reason to. I never contemplated suicide. I was too scared. The only time I gave up, I thought I would be better off dead than in pain every day. But I was saved. Some strangers took me and they were too nice to leave behind. "I won’t even consider it."

"Good." He rubbed the top of my head, messing up my hair. "Now let’s get back to the others. They’re waiting for us." He pointed down to the end where a group was waving and jumping up and down. A few incoherent shouts came from them, but it got lost in the wind.

Yea, we had someone waiting for us. We moved away from the edge and started to walk again. Side by side. A random thought slipped from my mind to my lips. "Have you ever known someone to commit suicide?"

Mr. Atkins paused for a second, but then kept pace with me. "A long time ago. It’s been two decades."

"Do you miss them?"

"I think about it every day."

That didn’t sound like a yes or no, but I let it be. If Mr. Atkins didn’t want to share, it was for good reason. I’m sure. I would honestly say he was the most trustworthy adult I’ve ever come across. As we walked closer to his family, the shouts of ’Dad!’ and ’Jake!’ got louder. I peeked up at him. I would want my dad to be a dad like him. Or better yet, for him to be my dad. But that’s just wishful thinking.

We met up with them, and took some more pictures. Mrs. Atkins looked a little worried, but calmed down and returned to normal after a whispered conversation with her husband. We continued our day of fun after walking back across the bridge to get back to the car.

We stopped at a huge chocolate store they called the Ghiradelli Factory. Chocolate was being made in front of us and the selection of what we could pick was huge. The parents let us each pick a bag to have after lunch or to take to the game. Afterwards we headed to Chinatown for lunch and then followed that up by going to a fortune cookie factory. We were able to see how they were made and were given free samples to take as souvenirs.

Mrs. Atkins didn’t let up there though. She bought a few more and packed them up with our chocolate. She led us around the district to sightsee and souvenir shop, but the spending spree already stopped. By mid afternoon we were back on the road. Mr. Atkins was true to his word and drove us to both major league stadiums to show me where each team played.

The first stop was the Giants stadium. The boys shared a few fun facts and mentioned a few famous players when we stopped to look. Then like Sean had said about them being connected by a bridge, we went over and parked near the A’s stadium. They spoke on and on about the coliseum. Any and every little thing they knew, they shared. From players, to events, to their own visits to the park. After a whole hour lesson, we started to move on. Or so I thought. Mr. Atkins drove to the location for the potential new stadium and shared some more stories.

I wonder if they knew that I couldn’t retain much of what was said. I was already exhausted from walking around all day and just wanted to take a nap. I dozed off as they were sharing some more history of the team.

Noah woke me up when we got back to the hotel. We quickly dropped off the souvenirs, and packed up the snacks to take to the field. Before leaving, Noah put on his Stanford baseball shirt and told me to do the same. I listened and changed in the bathroom. When I came out, the twins had also put on their shirts so the four of us matched. Mrs. Atkins was quick to whip out her phone and to start taking pictures.

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