The Original Ginny Moon

4

2:50 IN THE AFTERNOON, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

My Forever Parents are outside the door of Mrs. Lomos’s tiny office. “Let’s step into the conference room, Ginny,” says Mrs. Lomos.

We take five steps to get to the conference room which is across the hall. My Forever Parents sit at the table so I sit too. “Hi, Ginny,” my Forever Mom says.

“Hi,” I say back to her. She sits with her hands on her big round belly which is as big as a basketball. My Forever Dad’s belly is big too and his face is round but he doesn’t have a white beard or a nose like a cherry.

“Ginny, your parents came in to talk about what happened last night with the electronic baby,” says Mrs. Lomos.

I sit and wait for them to talk. But they don’t.

“They let me know that you put it in a suitcase,” says Mrs. Lomos. “Is that true?”

“Do you mean the plastic electronic baby?” I say.

She looks at me funny. “Yes, of course,” she says.

“Then yes,” I say.

“Why did you put it there?”

I make sure my mouth is shut so no one can see inside my brain. Then I look at her over my glasses. “Because it was screaming,” I say.

“So you decided to hide it under all your blankets and zip the suitcase shut?”

“No,” I say. “I kept my quilt out.” Because my quilt is the only thing I have left from the apartment. Gloria’s own Frenchy mom helped her make it when she ran away to Canada with me after she had me in a hospital. They made it together for me and for no one else. I used it all the time to wrap my Baby Doll in.

“All right, but why didn’t you try to comfort the baby?” says Mrs. Lomos.

“I did try to comfort the plastic electronic baby,” I say. “I said ush, ush, ush like you’re supposed to and I tried to give it my finger but the hole in its mouth didn’t open. I gave it a bottle too.”

“And that didn’t work?”

I shake my head no.

“Did you do anything else to make the baby be quiet?” my Forever Dad says.

I make sure my mouth is closed again so no one can see inside. I shake my head a second time.

Because lying is something you do with your mouth. A lie is something you tell.

“Are you sure?” he says. “Think hard.”

So I think hard. About keeping my mouth closed.

“Ginny, there’s a computer inside the electronic baby,” says Mrs. Lomos. “It keeps track of how many times the baby is fed and changed, and how long it cries. It even keeps track of strikes and shakes.”

Everyone is looking at me. All of them. My Forever Mom next to my Forever Dad on the other side of the table with her hand on her big round belly. I don’t know what strikes and shakes are but no one asked a question so I keep my mouth shut very tight.

My Forever Dad takes out a piece of paper. “The computer said the doll was hit eighty-three times and shaken four,” he says. He puts the paper down. “Ginny, did you hit the baby?”

“The plastic electronic baby,” I say even though it’s a rule that We do not correct.

“It doesn’t matter whether the baby was real or not,” he says. “We asked you to try taking care of the baby. We can’t—”

“Brian,” says my Forever Mom. Then to me she says, “Ginny, it’s not okay to hit or shake a baby. Even if the baby isn’t real. Do you understand that?”

I like my Forever Mom a lot. She helps me with my homework every night after supper and explains things when they don’t make sense. Plus we play Chinese Checkers when I get home from school. So I say, “When I was in the apartment with Glo—”

“We know what happened in the apartment,” she interrupts. “And we’re very, very sorry that she hurt you. But it’s not okay to hurt babies, ever. So we need you to start seeing Patrice again. She’s going to help you get ready to be a big sister.”

Patrice is a therapist. An attachment therapist. I haven’t seen her since the adoption in June. I lived with my Forever Parents at the Blue House a whole year before that. That was when I started going to my new school too.

Which reminds me again that Gloria is on her way right now. I don’t know how long it will take her to get here. I don’t know if she’ll get here before I go to see Patrice. And that’s important because I need to know when things are going to happen so I can count and check my watch and make sure everything works the way it’s supposed to.

I pick hard at my fingers.

“When will I see Patrice?” I ask.

“We’ll call her on the phone today and see when she’s available,” says my Forever Mom. “Probably early this next week, if she has some time in her schedule. I bet she’ll find an opening, for you.”

5

2:45 IN THE AFTERNOON, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

Gloria didn’t come to school today. I waited and waited and then my watch and all the clocks in all the rooms said 2:15 and we had the afternoon announcements. Then the bell rang and I went outside with all the other kids to get on the bus.

So I am confused.

But right now I’m confused about something more pressing. Patrice says that more pressing means something more important than something else. The more pressing thing is that someone is angry here at the Blue House. I have to figure out who it is.

That’s why I’m standing here on the front step of the screen porch. I’m still wearing my backpack and carrying my flute. I see that our mailbox is knocked over and there are tire tracks on the ground which means someone peeled out. Peeling out is what people do when they’re in a car and they’re really mad. I stand there wondering who made the marks and when I look up I see my Forever Dad’s car in the driveway next to my Forever Mom’s. Usually he’s at work. He’s the guidance counselor at the high school.

With one finger I straighten my glasses. I look at the tire tracks again. In my brain I remember that at 2:44 right before the bus stopped in front of the Blue House I saw two police cars coming the other way. They were driving slowly so I took a deep breath and held it until we were past.

I don’t like police officers. They all have the same head.

Then I got off the bus and saw the mailbox and the tire tracks.

I open the door to the screen porch. Right away I smell cigarette smoke. No one at the Blue House smokes. The smell makes me think of Gloria’s apartment.

I go inside. My Forever Mom is standing in front of the kitchen sink holding a glass of water in one hand and holding her belly in the other. Her hair looks like she didn’t brush it and there are dark, dark lines under her eyes. Without looking she says, “Hi, Ginny. Come put your things down. We need to talk with you in the living room.” Her voice is quiet.

I put my backpack and flute case in my room and come back out.

“Hello, Forever Girl,” my Forever Dad says. He is standing near the window. “Did anything interesting happen at school today?”

“No,” I say, “but I would like to know which one of you is angry.”

They look at each other.

“Angry?” says my Forever Dad.

I nod my head yes.

“Why would one of us be angry?”

“Because there are tire tracks on the front lawn. Which one of you peeled out?”

“Wait,” he says. “You think that because there are tire tracks on the front lawn, one of us is angry?”

I nod my head yes again.

My Forever Mom makes a little smile and then a long breathing sound. “Well, I guess this is going to be easier than we thought,” she says. “Ginny, neither one of us made those tire tracks.”

I am confused so I stand there thinking.

“Let’s get back to the first question first,” says my Forever Dad. “Did anything interesting happen at school?”

“No,” I say again.

“Did you make a phone call?”

“No.”

“Did anyone come to visit you?”

“No.”

“Did anyone ask for your address?”

“Do you mean today?”

My Forever Dad looks at my Forever Mom quick and then looks back at me. “Yes. Of course we mean today.”

“Then no.”

“Then no?” says my Forever Dad. “What about yesterday, then? Did anyone ask for your address yesterday?”

But that was two questions in a row and I’m not sure which one to answer. Plus it’s a rule that I can answer only one question at a time. Because I have only one mouth and I don’t know which question is more pressing. So I shake my head and keep my mouth shut tight, tight, tight. Just in case.

My Forever Mom looks at my Forever Dad. She puts her hand on her chin. “Well, then, how the hell did she track us down?” she says.

So I say, “How the hell did who track us down?”

“The person who peeled out on the front lawn,” my Forever Dad says. “But don’t worry, she’s gone. The police made her leave.”

“So you’re not still angry at me about the plastic electronic baby doll?”

He looks at me in a funny way again. “Angry isn’t the right word,” my Forever Dad says. “We’re concerned, is all.”

I wonder if they are lying. Gloria lies all the time. Then I start wondering if maybe they found out that Gloria is on her way because angry is what everyone would be if they knew. I pick and pick at my fingers and close my eyes and say, “Will someone please, please, please tell me which one of you is angry?” because you have to be careful around angry people. They get mad and hit.

Then my Forever Mom says, “Ginny, we already told you. No one here is angry. You’re safe. We can talk about the tire tracks some other time. What’s with the frowning face? Now, go wash up and get dressed. You’re going to the apple cider farm next week, and you’ve got a birthday coming up! And you’re going to see Patrice on Wednesday! We already talked with her and made the appointment. Maybe you should mark it on your calendar.”

But that wasn’t a question so I don’t say anything. Plus what she said about the apple cider farm wasn’t true. My class is going there on September 21st, not next week. And now I can’t remember what I was worried about but when I look up I see my Forever Parents looking at me and smiling. I smile back.

“Ginny, would you like a hug?” my Forever Mom says.

I would so I let her give me one. She has to lean forward because her belly is so big.

“Now go change your clothes,” she says.

I go into my room and change into my play clothes. I look out the window at the yard and see the tire tracks again.

And I remember.

It’s hard for me to figure things out sometimes. I get distracted and forget to look at what I’m supposed to look at. Or I go so deep in my brain that I forget what I’m supposed to know. But I know now that no one here at the Blue House is angry. No one yelled and no one hit me. Someone else made the tire tracks but she’s gone now so I can get ready for Gloria. When she comes to school I’ll run out to the Green Car to see if my Baby Doll is with her. If it isn’t then I’m going to have to get in the car and go back to the apartment. Even though I don’t want to. Even though I know what will happen to me. Because I have to see if my Baby Doll is still in the suitcase. If it is and I’m not too late then I need to take it out and take excellent care of it. I can tell that Gloria hasn’t changed a bit. I remember all the drugs and cats and the strange men at night. I remember what she used to do to me when I made too much noise. But the worst part is Donald. He’s going to be really, really mad when he finds out what I did. He’s going to make me dead. Gloria said so.

And I believe her even though she’s the one who lies.

Whenever Gloria left to get more Maine coons or see her dealer I had my Baby Doll to keep me company but now my Baby Doll is there by itself. I don’t know if you can hear anything when you’re zipped up tight inside a suitcase. Waiting.

So I have to go back.

Maybe when I run out to the Green Car, Gloria will be in a good place. Maybe she’ll get out and give me a big hug and say, “Holy shit, Ginny! You have really grown! Your eyes are still green? Even though you got adopted and changed your name, you’ll always have green eyes. Just like us!”

I hope she is right.

6

6:45 IN THE MORNING, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 10TH

It is 6:45 which means it is time for school. I have my backpack on and my flute case and I am wearing my watch. I wear my watch everywhere I go except the shower.

My Forever Dad is with me. Usually he stands in the screen porch while I go out to get on the bus but today he wanted to come along. We are walking across the grass to where the bus comes which is at the end of the driveway. We pass the tire tracks. On the ground near one of the tracks I see a white plastic box so I pick it up. It is a Tic Tac box with five white Tic Tacs inside. I hold the box up and count the Tic Tacs two more times. I shake them. They rattle.

“What’s that?” my Forever Dad says.

I don’t answer. Gloria always had Tic Tacs. She always smelled like Tic Tacs and cigarettes. White ones were her favorite.

Then I remember that the curtains in the screen porch smelled like cigarettes too.

I look at my Forever Dad and shake the Tic Tacs. I point to them. “These are from Gloria,” I say.

My Forever Dad makes a breathing sound with his mouth. He nods. “Yes, they probably are,” he says.

Then he takes them because he says they might be dirty even though I promise not to eat any.

“How did they get here?” I say.

“Well...” he says but then he doesn’t say anything else.

What this means is that Gloria came here to the Blue House. Yesterday. That was where the tire tracks came from. She was the angry person. She came when I was at school. Then she peeled out and left. Which means she came to the wrong place. Which means I won’t be able to run out to the parking lot to see if my Baby Doll is in the Green Car with her. I won’t be able to go back to the apartment and check inside the suitcase.

To make sure I say, “Did Gloria come to the Blue House yesterday?”

“Yes,” my Forever Dad says. “Gloria came to the Blue House yesterday.”

“Did she bring my Baby Doll?”

He gets a funny look on his face. “No, she didn’t bring your Baby Doll. Ginny, I know you don’t like us to even say it, but if you want a new doll, we’ll get you one. Do you want to go to the toy store this afternoon?”

“No, thank you, I don’t want to go to the toy store.” I use my friendly voice even though it makes me really mad when people ask that question. “When is she coming back?”

“She isn’t coming back. She scared your mom pretty badly and made quite a scene. She even ran over our mailbox.”

I don’t know what quite a scene is but I know that when Gloria is angry she yells a lot and fights. She breaks things and hits.

I look at the mailbox. It is lying on the ground with its side all bent and its door open. Like a mouth, not moving.

“Ginny?”

I come up out of my brain. “What?” I say.

“I said she isn’t coming back. The police came to tell her she isn’t allowed to visit.”

But I know that Gloria never does what the police tell her. She is very sneaky. I know she wants to come back and I know I have to help her. I have to find out if I’m too late. Even though I’m scared. Even though Gloria gets really violent and is completely unreliable which is what one of the social workers said. I have to know what happened to my Baby Doll.

I hear the bus coming from around the corner.

“We can talk about this some more after school,” my Forever Dad says. “Would that be good?”

I see the bus so I start counting.

“Ginny?”

“I see the bus,” I say.

“Yes, I see it, too,” my Forever Dad says. “We’ll talk some more after school, if you want.”

The bus takes thirteen seconds before it pulls up to the side of the road. My Forever Dad gives me a squeeze on the shoulder. I don’t recoil because it’s okay for him to do that. Because once he asked me if he could give me a hug and I said no so he asked if a squeeze on the shoulder would be all right and I said yes it would be. My Forever Mom can give me a hug if she asks but my Forever Dad is a man so it has to be a shoulder squeeze.

My brain is moving too fast. The pictures in it are like hands flying up at my face.

“Ginny?” he says.

“Goodbye,” I say. And then I get on the bus.

7

7:04 IN THE MORNING, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 10TH

When I get to school Mrs. Lomos is there waiting on the sidewalk right next to the bus. Today her earrings look like silver pears. “Good morning, Ginny,” she says when I step down off the bottom step.

“Good morning,” I say because that’s what you say when someone says Good morning to you. Sometimes I also like to say How are you today? after I say Good morning but I am thinking about when I can ask Larry to get on the internet again so I can tell Gloria where to meet me. Because she didn’t come to school like she was supposed to. I need to help her get it right. I’m guessing the library is a good place for me to get on the internet because sometimes there aren’t any teachers there.

“I want you to meet Mrs. Wake,” says Mrs. Lomos.

I look up from my hands to see a lady standing next to Mrs. Lomos. She is an old lady with glasses and a white sweater. She isn’t wearing a Michael Jackson shirt. I love Michael Jackson because he isn’t like other men. He isn’t big and loud. He isn’t scary. He’s the nicest person in the world and when I hear his music I feel like I’m standing in a circle wearing small white shoes and when I feel that way I want to jump high and kick my feet back and spin when I land and put my shoulders up high and say, “Oooh!”

But I have a hard time talking about how I feel. Patrice says it’s part of my disability.

“Mrs. Wake is going to walk with you to all your classes,” says Mrs. Lomos.

“Is she going to go with me to the library?” I ask.

Mrs. Lomos gets a funny look on her face. “I don’t think your class is going to the library today, Ginny. What do you have to do in the library?”

“There are books in the library,” I say even though there are computers there too.

“Yes, there are. Maybe Mrs. Wake can help you pick one out.”

Mrs. Wake smiles at me. I do not smile back. “Hello, Ginny,” she says. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Period One is language arts again. Mrs. Wake sits next to me the whole time and tries to help me with questions about a man named Nathaniel Hawthorne. Then at the end of Period Two I go to Room Five with Larry and Kayla Zadambidge and Alison Hill. When I get to the table and sit down Mrs. Wake finally leaves to go to the bathroom so I say, “Okay, Larry. I need to get on the internet.”

And he says, “Dude, there’s a computer right there,” and points and starts singing a song that says if I want it, here it is, I can just come get it. “But won’t you get in trouble?” he says when he finishes.

I am about to tell him that he can get on the internet for me but then Ms. Dana walks in. She sits down at the table and starts reminding us how to use an agenda book. I decide not to tell Larry right now that I won’t get in trouble if he goes on the internet instead of me. Later I’ll tell him that I can just look over his shoulder while he looks at Facebook or Manicoon.com. But Ms. Dana keeps talking and talking and then Mrs. Wake comes back so I keep my new secret plan in my brain and shut my mouth so no one will see it.