The Truth According to Ginny Moon by Benjamin Ludwig (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📗

a few years she changed her number. She stopped answering my emails and cut me out of the picture completely.

Then I heard about the kidnapping so I went to the police and told them everything I could remember. I said I didn’t think Gloria could pull off something like that because she’s not so great at keeping cool and they asked who could so I said her sister Crystal. Then I remembered the summer house she bought and the rest is history.

But I learned that day that you weren’t with Gloria anymore and that you were adopted. Your new folks seem pretty nice. They’re open to us getting to know one another. I hope you’re open to that too.

Some things about me. I drive truck. I haul big rigs up and down the coast. I’m not home a lot but I have a nice place and a girlfriend who takes care of things when I’m away. We even have a dog. A beagle named Sammy. We don’t have any kids of our own though.

So what do you say? Will you write me a letter? I hope you will.

Your Old Dad,

Rick

So I say, “Wait—why did he write that?” And point to the very last word.

“You mean Rick?”

I nod my head yes.

“That’s his name,” my Forever Dad says.

“His name is Rick?”

“It starts with the letter R,” he says. “You know, like red.”

“Humph,” I say and I start picking at the skin around my fingernails.

Rick is a small name. It sounds like lick or tick or dick which is a bad word. Rick is a fast name. It makes your mouth feel like too much cherry candy or like you have something small and bright made out of red plastic in there.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I feel hungry,” I say. “And I feel like I should have a beverage. I should watch a video on my DVD player in my room and have a little drink. When is Rick coming over?”

“He isn’t coming over,” my Forever Dad says. “But he wants to know if you’ll write to him. Do you want to write him a letter?”

“Mostly,” I say. “But not today. It’s not on my list.”

“You could put it on your list if you wanted,” he says. “I could help you write it.”

I shake my head no. “Maybe tomorrow,” I say. “Can I watch my video now?”

“Don’t you want to talk about the letter?”

“No.”

Because I don’t. I already read it and I know what it says. It says that my dad drives truck and he wants to get to know me. I’m guessing the truck has plenty of room for all my things. I need time to go in my brain to think.

“I need to watch a video now,” I say. I stand up.

“All right, then,” my Forever Dad says. “You can watch your video. We’ll talk about this some other time.”

“And I need a beverage.”

“Then I’ll get you a beverage.”

EXACTLY 9:08 AT NIGHT,

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 2ND

I am in bed thinking. My quilt is spread out over my belly and legs. I am lying on my back.

In my head I need to say what happens to me right after it happens. I need to say it all back to myself because it helps me understand. That’s why I talk inside my brain. It’s like a diary except I’m not so good at writing. I used to say it all out loud when I was in the apartment but Donald said it drove him bat-shit crazy. Then he said I should keep my mouth closed and not walk around with it open because it makes me look like a cave girl. No one can hear what I say inside my head because that’s where my brain is. It helps me do things when no one is looking. Like when I used to look for mayonnaise and ketchup packets and food in the garbage when Gloria and Donald or one of her other man-friends were upstairs.

But now I have to get ready to write a letter to Rick. I can’t just say the words in my head and leave them there. I have to write them. On paper. Writing is hard work but I need to do it because I have to get Rick to give me a ride up to Canada. I bet he has dual citizenship just like Gloria and Crystal with a C. And me. But I have to get him to tell Gloria to meet us there. That is my new secret plan.

So I will talk the letter in my head tonight and then I will ask my Forever Dad to help me type it tomorrow. The letter will go exactly like this:

Dear Rick,

I do not love the name Rick. No offense. I’m just saying. Maybe we could call you Richard or Kevin or even Bobby. We can’t call you Michael Jackson because Michael Jackson is my favorite singer-dancer in the whole world. I have a picture of him on my wall in my room plus the calendar. He’s my biggest fan.

I am writing you a letter because I put it on my list. I want you to come take me in your truck and bring me to Canada. Tell Gloria to come there with my Baby Doll and meet us. We can all live there together unless you want to go back to live with your girlfriend and Sammy instead. I’m OK with that. If you can’t come right now then please go to Harrington Falls to see if my Baby Doll is OK. Gloria needs help taking care of it. Don’t let her go away for a few days like she always does. Help her like Crystal with a C used to help her. Show her how to change its diaper and how to give it plenty of food. Bring some milk with you because there won’t be any in the refrigerator. And even though it’s too little to understand please tell my Baby Doll that