“I am. I don’t have a car. But I’ll pay your cab fare and say good-bye to you over the phone as you go. Worst-case scenario, you get to see some really creepy little animal people and two hours from now you’re in the same place you are now, and I’m giving you hot phone sex as you’re plummeting into the shark cafeteria.”
“Really?”
“Really. Your phone got a camera?”
“Yeah.”
“Send me a selfie.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, how am going to know what you look like?”
“Okay. This shirt has a little coffee stain down the front.”
“Got it. Now head for the city side of the bridge. I’ll be there in ten.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“I’m going to borrow my boss’s. Head for the tollgates. I’ll park the car in the visitor center and walk up.”
“Can’t you stay on the line until you get here.”
“Would love to, Kevin, but I can’t tie up the crisis line. Look, I’ll call you from my cell in a second. They make us leave them in the locker room, so give me five minutes. Head for the tollbooths. I’ll call you in a bit.”
“How will I know you?”
“I’m Asian.” She wasn’t Asian, but there would be a metric fuckload of Asian girls on the bridge for him to think were her. “Ten minutes. Don’t jump, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. But my battery is low.”
“You’d better not jump because your fucking battery ran out, Kevin. Have a little faith, for fuck’s sake.”
“I wish you’d quit swearing.”
“Oh, right, I’m your fairy godmother. Now, allow me to grant your wish. See you in ten.” She hit the disconnect button.
Lily sent Kevin’s photo to the Ranger station on the bridge with a note: Jumper, headed your way. Temporarily paused him. Detain and hold for psych eval. Another save for Darquewillow Elventhing!
“Woooo-hooooo, bitches!” One for the big board! Lily rose from her seat and headed for the big whiteboard at the head of the bullpen. The other three counselors dove for their mute buttons. She snatched up the marker and wrote SAVES THIS MONTH, then wrote her name and drew in a big 5 1/2 next to it with an exclamation point.
“Five-point-five, losers, and it’s only the seventeenth of the month. That’s right, at least two more weeks to try to catch this train of effective fucking crisis intervention!”
“That’s not a thing, Lily,” said Sage, a freckled blond girl about Lily’s age, wearing a huge fisherman’s sweater and cargo pants, who had clearly given up on giving a shit about her hair before she’d even started grad school. That kind of neglect didn’t show overnight. She was working on her master’s thesis in crisis counseling or something.
“It’s not a thing for you,” said Lily. “Because you are a loooooser. La-la-la-looooozzer.” Although she knew she was too old for it, and it was far beneath her dignity to indulge in such things, she did a subtle booty dance of
victory to mark the moment.
“You’re so broken,” said Sage. “How did you ever get a job here?”
“Death is my business, Sage. They came to me because they knew I would dominate! Five and a half—yay-ooooooh!”
One of the other counselors, a tall fortyish guy with a mop of blond hair, looked over his glasses. He had his finger on the mute mic button like he was holding the mouth of a poisonous snake closed. “Lily, any chance you could wrap it up? I have to get an address and find out what pills this girl swallowed before she passes out.”