I felt awful. Inside and out. The bathroom stunk and my knees hurt from being on concrete for five straight minutes as I emptied my stomach. So much for that hotdog. And my apple. And my banana.
Knocking sounded on the stall door. "Jake?" A deep voice questioned. "It's Zeke. Is this the stall you're in?"
I didn't answer with words, just with actions. From my knees, I unlocked the door and went back to spitting in the toilet.
"Want to talk about it?" He asked, towering above me.
I shook my head.
He squatted so we could see each other's face. "You know, if you don't talk about it, you're not going to get better. You'll just get sick like this all the time. Is that what you want? To throw up every week?" He pulled out a water bottle from his pocket. "Here. Rinse your mouth first and then you can tell me what upsets you so much that you have to waste my two dollar hotdog."
I cracked a smile. The whole Atkins family had a weird sense of humor. Why bully me over two dollars? I'm sure his mom would reimburse him. Wait. I rinsed my mouth then looked up at him. "Mrs. Atkins said she would give you money last night...doesn't that mean it wasn't your two dollars?"
Zeke smiled. "Feeling better already?"
I shrugged, and patted my stomach. "There's nothing left."
"Want to talk in here or go get some fresh air?" He asked.
I looked around. Servite may have a pretty school and an amazing field...but their bathrooms were absolute trash. "Outside."
Zeke helped me up. We both exited the stall amidst some strange looks, but no one said anything with Zeke towering over everyone. We washed our hands and left. Zeke knew where he was going because it didn't take him long to find an open grassy area with hardly anyone around.
The game was still going on and fans were still cheering. It's a weird transition from feeling like my world stopped but the outside world didn't.
"What was the trigger?" Zeke asked.
"What?" I asked, not understanding.
"What set you off? Willie was talking and then all of a sudden you were up and out." Zeke looked out to the field, where the game was still being played. "Was it the talk about the pitching coach?"
"Sort of." I put my hands together and tapped my thumbs against each other. "My mom used to say that my dad picked baseball over us." Supposedly my brother did too. "Hearing that the pitching coach here, chose to stay with this job because of his daughter made me feel...jealous. Angry. Sad. Devastated. Then just sick to my stomach."
"You don't usually talk about your dad, but you've mentioned your mom before." Zeke glanced down at me. "Has it ever crossed your mind that she was lying?"
I blinked.
"Kids naturally believe what their parents say." Zeke shook his head. "You know your mom wasn't a good person, yet you believe her words so easily. You don't know the truth regarding your father. You may never know. Every family has their own issues. Some more defined than others."
Yea...I knew that from my talk with Mr. Atkins.
"For all you know, that pitching coach could be a single parent for some reason. Whether it's because the child is adopted. The mother died. The mother divorced him and ran away. There's a lot that could be speculated." He put his hand on my shoulder. "When I said you need to stop being so negative, I didn't mean only in baseball. In life too."
Right. I nodded.
"Only your Mom may know about your dad." He continued. "You can do two things. One, ignore it and ignore her, and live your own life. Two, confront her. Ask her for the truth. Demand it."
I shook my head. "No. No. No way." I tried to calm myself. "Besides...that won't stop her from lying. Yea..how can I trust a lady's word when she almost killed me herself? I must be crazy."
Zeke chuckled and patted my head. "Not crazy. Just a kid. You'll learn in time who to trust." He glanced at the bleachers. "We should get back to Noah. He's worried."
I nodded. Noah's always worried about me. He's another brother I would like to have. It's nice to hear him consider me as one of his real brothers...but I want to know what my biological brother is like too.
We went back to the bleacher and found Noah munching on cookies. Homemade cookies. From Mrs. Atkins.
"Are you eating all the cookies?" Zeke squinted at him.
Noah gulped. "I was stress eating. You were taking so long in bringing him back... I was close to calling Mom and Dad. You wouldn't be allowed to babysit ever again."
Zeke rolled his eyes and snatched away the bag of cookies. "Were you even watching the game?"
Noah nodded. He wiped the crumbs off his lips. "Yes. Diligently. Bottom of the fourth: fly out to right, strikeout, strikeout. Top of the fifth: strikeout, fly out to right, standing double, flyout to center." He looked to me. "Are you okay? You just took off again."
I felt my face heat up. I can't even stop embarrassing myself. "I'm okay now. Just...just thinking what it would be like to have a dad that stayed."
Noah didn't look surprised, but his answer shocked me. "You have a dad that stays. My dad. He can be your dad too."
I made a face that said I didn't believe him.
"He's a father figure to you, right?"
I nodded. Mr. Atkins is what I hope to be when I grow up. Strong. Steady. Un-afraid.
"Then why can't he be your dad too?"
I frowned. "I can't just call every father figure my dad. That'd be weird." I lowered my voice. "And what if...I get attached? It would hurt more to leave. It's best to leave him as Mr. Atkins." And your mom is Mrs. Atkins.
"You don't have to worry about that." Noah waved away my worried. "They said you're staying with us for long term. Wouldn't the next stop be adoption? We can adopt you!"
Zeke turned to us. "Are you two watching? Don't think I paid for this just for fun. It's to learn."
Noah quieted down and our eyes went to the field. I caught Zeke glancing at us for a longer period of time, but was scared that it was a trap so I didn't dare turn.
My thoughts went back to what Noah said. Adoption. That'd be nice. I wonder what it takes to be adopted by your foster family? That could be something else to look up. Adoption process.
That and Patterson. I need to start getting some answers. I wonder if it would be hard to look up a famous ball player's family? It should be listed somewhere...like in a biography.
Brady continued to shut out Servite. A swinging strikeout. Another well hit double to left-center. Then two more strikeouts. Crazy. He's getting all of them to swing. He already had nine strikeouts in five innings. Sanchez wasn't far behind with seven. Close game. Still tied at zero.