The Hitting Zone

Chapter 75 Dr. Moore

"I don’t mind at all." Dr. Moore stated. "It’s nice to see a foster parent involved. And it looks like you already have an understanding of Jake."

Mr. Atkins laughed awkwardly and ran a hand through his hair. "My wife and son know better. I only know slight clues from them."

"So you’re not as close as they are?"

"I wouldn’t say that." Mr. Atkins sighed. "Jake isn’t close to my wife, but he’s spoken in front of her this past weekend. He’s really attached to my youngest son, Noah. They’re the same age. Share a room. Similar classes. And play baseball with my other sons."

Dr. Moore looked at me. "Does Mary make you feel anxious?"

I shrugged. Not her in particular. But mom’s in general.

Dr. Moore went back to Mr. Atkins. "How does Jake communicate with you and your family normally?"

Mr. Atkins scratched his stubble. "It’s more Noah speaking for him than anything. He moves his head a lot. And can be very expressive with his face and eyes."

"So you’re close to Noah?" Dr. Moore asked. I nodded. "That’s a good start. Having someone there for you can give you a sense of comfort. Have you spoken directly to Noah?"

I nodded slower. Maybe not in a clear manner, but I’ve spoken to him so that should count.

"Jake has said a few words around all of us this past week." Mr. Atkins interjected.

Dr. Moore took some more notes. "Now that I have an idea of where the current you is, do you mind if I ask more about your past? Say for example, your mother?"

I tensed up.

"She abused you with her own hands correct?"

I flinched at the memory.

"Did you ever try to stop her? Maybe by speaking up? Or reaching out to authorities?"

I shook my head. Her abuse was the only way of communicating. I thought it was normal for the longest time. I got a headache replaying every hit, every sneer, every nasty word. I rubbed my temples.

"Jake?" Mr. Atkins voice felt far.

"Let him sort out his thoughts." Dr. Moore said.

I was dumb. I should have spoken up. I could have gone to a teacher or the police. Why did I stay and take it? What’s wrong with me?

"If you’re wondering why you didn’t speak out, I have an answer for you." Dr. Moore caught my attention. I looked at him, ready to hear what he had to say. "It’s because she’s your mother. She gave birth to you. Like it or not, you have an attachment to this person." He took in my distress. "I’m not saying this to scare you, but to comfort you. It’s a normal biochemical reaction in your brain to want to be with someone close to you. Even if they hurt you. Children are the most sensitive to this."

So just because she gave birth to me, I didn’t tell anyone about my abuse? How stupid.

"It’s like that in most child abuse cases. Sometimes the children even lie to authorities in order to protect their parents. It’s almost ingrained in your being to protect those close to you. Regardless if they have hurt you. And children love attention, even if it’s only negative." He pushed up his glasses. "Now. Do you understand Jake? It’s not your fault that it got this bad. You didn’t push your mom this far. She’s a mentally ill woman that needed help a long time ago."

"I-" I cleared my throat and tried to speak without making eye contact with either of them. "I did it. She said-she said no to baseball and I-I-I didn’t listen." I hung my head in shame.

"Jake. Normal parents won’t attempt to kill you for not listening." Dr. Moore countered without pause. "Wayne. You’re a parent. How would you discipline your son for not listening?"

Mr. Atkins had to clear his throat. "My first step is to make sure they know that they disobeyed. My second step would be a punishment, but at most it would be a grounding or extra chores. Mary and I don’t condone corporeal punishment at all. We don’t even allow are kids to fight one another." I peeked up at him and was shocked. This giant man was crying. Not anything dramatic; just tears leaking out of his eyes as he looked at me. "What your mom did, Jake. It’s awful and I hope she pays for it every time she thinks of what she lost. And not just the freedom she lost, but a wonderful, bright son who will do great things."

My eyes stung, but my tears didn’t fall. Mr. Atkins is a great dad. Nothing like the loser who left me with a crazy lady.

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