Just One Thing

Today’s the day. All of my planning, all of my preparations, it’s all led up to this. I feel a thrill of giddy excitement as my destination comes into sight. Golden Gate Bridge! It’s even more glorious than I ever could have dreamed! I told the taxi driver to pull over, determined to walk the rest of the way. As soon as I paid him, he sped off without a second thought. Figures. I shrug it off and put in my earbuds as I begin walking to the bridge. I bop my head to the music as I take a sip of my hot chocolate, savoring the sweet taste. If this is to be my last night on Earth, I’m making damn sure I enjoy it.

               I had started concocting my plan about two years ago. I’d come to San Francisco on Christmas day, and eat at La Ciccia Italian restaurant. I’d order four courses and a delicious wine, savoring the experience for hours. Once I finished my meal, I’d stop by a food stall and order a hot chocolate. I’d take a taxi to the bridge and walk its length while drinking my cocoa and listening to my favorite songs. Then, once my playlist was over and my hot chocolate was gone, I’d jump over the edge of the bridge and leave all my suffering on the ledge behind me.

               Everything was going perfectly. I let my gaze wander as I walked, seeing the Christmas lights reflecting on the water all around me. It’s such a beautiful place. There are worse places to meet your end, that’s for sure. I swallowed the last of my cocoa as the final song faded out. I took out my earbuds, set down my cup and braced myself against the railing. I took a minute to just drink it all in, one last time. Just as I was about to start climbing up, someone ran up to me screaming, “Please! You have to help me! I can’t find my dog!”

               It was a man, mid 30’s, red faced and disheveled, and he had obviously been crying. I rear back from him in annoyance. “Look, I wish I could help, but I’m in the middle of something right now. Find someone else,” I say as I turn back to the water. “Please,” he whimpers. “He’s all I have. I can’t lose him too.” I have no idea why, but what he said made me pause. I slowly turned back towards him, considering my options. It was only 9:00 o’clock, I had plenty of time. And something about the sorrow in his eyes pulled at me. Finally, I throw my hands up in defeat.

               “Fine! I’ll help you.”

               His face lit up brighter than all the city lights combined. I roll my eyes and turn to start walking. He led me to a nearby park and started calling his dog’s name over and over. I glance around halfheartedly, not really caring. Finally I turn to him and ask, “What did you mean? That he’s all you have left?” He looked at me in surprise, but quickly waved it off. “I won’t bore you with that. It’s kind of a downer,” he chuckled. “Try me,” I challenged. He let out a nervous laugh, but nodded in acquiescence. “Well, I guess I’ll start at the beginning.”

He had grown up nearby, raised by two very strict Catholics. They believed that only through suffering of the flesh could you heighten the spirit, so self-mutilations happened on the daily in his house. Finally he had enough and went to the church for help. The church basically told him that his parents were always right because they were his parents, and then called his house to let them know about his visit. They kicked him out that night for not having strong enough faith.

               He went to his friends asking for a place to stay, and all of them turned him away. It turned out most of them were friends with him because they thought he was rich. He ended up running into his school lab partner, and he offered to let him stay with his family for a while. They became best friends, and things started looking up for him. He got a girlfriend, found a job, and the two moved in together. For about two years his life was perfect. Until he came home early to find that his best friend was in bed with his wife. He quickly packed his things and left, ignoring their tears and apologies. He found a new place to live and tried to focus on putting the pieces of his life back together. Unfortunately, a week later the business he worked at went bankrupt and he lost his job.

               He had no idea what to do. Without that job he wouldn’t be able to pay his rent, he had no friends, no family, and soon no home. He just wanted to give up. He found himself walking to the Golden Gate Bridge. ‘It’ll be quick, and mostly painless,’ he thought to himself as he walked. ‘No one will miss me. No one will even notice I’m gone. I should have done this a long time a-,’

               His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a pained whimper. He looked around for the source of the noise and found a small stray puppy. He was flea bitten and so skinny you could count every rib. His heart broke for the little guy. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here,” he crooned as he crouched down. The puppy slowly crept closer, shivering in the cold night air. He scooped the tiny creature into his jacket and quickly walked back to his apartment. He made sure he had plenty of water and gave him some cold cuts that he had in his fridge. He cuddled him all night to make sure he stayed warm.

“And the rest is history. Thanks to me he made it through the night, and thanks to him so did I,” he jokes weakly. “It’s true what they say. You need just one thing to keep you going. Just one! And he’s my one thing,” he said, finishing his story. I was dumbstruck, processing everything I’d just heard, when my thoughts were interrupted by loud barking. Out of seemingly nowhere a medium sized dog comes barreling out the shadows, jumping eagerly into the guy’s arms. They both exclaim in joy, the guy crying in relief and the dog licking his tears away.

I turn and slip away quietly, still considering everything I had been told. I decided not to go back to the bridge. I had run out of time helping the guy find his dog, and I’d rather wait another year than miss the mark by a few minutes. Who knows? Maybe between now and then, I’ll find my own reason to keep going. You only need just one thing, after all.