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

to climb into a suitcase and zip myself in. Because at the interview I have to talk with a detective and tell him all the things Crystal with a C did and said. Instead of going to the trial. But I don’t want to talk with a detective even if a bunch of social workers will be there. Because detective is another word for police officer.

“It’s coming up soon,” says Patrice. “But maybe we can talk about it on the phone in a day or two. Would that be all right?”

I come up fast out of my brain. “Yes, that would be all right,” I say.

EXACTLY 8:24 IN THE MORNING,

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 8TH

The secretaries in the office at school are smiling at my Forever Sister. It is on the counter asleep in its car seat. My Forever Mom is standing at the counter smiling while the secretaries make their lips look like round circles and say “Oh!” and “So cute!” and “B-eau-tiful!” It is like they remember only long vowel sounds.

I am sitting on the edge of a long bench right next to a garbage can. There are lots of crumpled papers inside and some shavings from a pencil sharpener. A cinnamon oatmeal granola bar wrapper and a brown apple core with exactly two bites left on the side that I can see.

“And how is your husband?” one of the secretaries says. The older one. I know she doesn’t like me one bit. She’s here every time I come into the office to talk with the principal. She always tells me to sit in the same place. The far, far end of the long wooden bench that is in front of the glass wall facing the hallway. It is like the spot at the end of the bench is only for me.

“I understand they had a hard time finding someone to fill in for him up at the high school. And they say he’s got just enough sick days to cover the rest of the year. He’s doing the right thing, of course. I mean, no one would ever question that. It’s just that a whole school year is a long time. And what about you? Is your partner able to take all your patients? So glad you came in with the baby!”

She glances at me. Like I am a dog who chewed someone’s shoes. I make a frowning face at her.

“He’s doing just fine,” says my Forever Mom. “Today he’s at the doctor’s—high blood pressure—which is why I’m here for Ginny’s intake. And yes, Dr. Win is taking my patients for now. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Then the other secretary says, “I think someone’s waking up!”

My Forever Sister’s foot moves. The two secretaries take big breaths and hold them. Their eyes and mouths get big and freeze.

My Forever Sister goes back to sleep.

Then the secretaries start talking. “Is she eating rice cereal? And is she sleeping through the night? You know, I used to give my daughters rice cereal in a bottle right before—”

In my brain I remember my Baby Doll. It never had rice cereal or people to smile at it. Or a car seat or a mom who wrapped it up in nice blankets.

My leg starts kicking the leg of the bench with the back of my heel.

“Ginny, would you please stop that?” says my Forever Mom without looking because she is looking at my Forever Sister who is asleep like a doll or a dead cat or something. Like a plastic electronic baby that doesn’t even move. They don’t understand that when a baby sleeps it’s time to leave it alone and go find food. Find something you can chew up so that it’s soft enough to put in my Baby Doll’s mouth and help it swallow. Go find something to eat so my own belly won’t be so tight. And push my arms out straight and move my shoulders because I’ve been holding my Baby Doll so long to keep it happy that my whole body hurts, hurts, hurts.

“Ginny, stop!” says my Forever Mom.

I kick hard one last time and swing my leg at the garbage can. It makes a loud noise and knocks over. I am glad. My Forever Sister’s tiny fists rise above the edge of the car seat. The secretaries and my Forever Mom all make breathing sounds and look at it. Then at me. With angry faces.

“Ginny,” my Forever Mom says, “can you just, please, sit there and be patient? And pick up that garbage can. You almost woke Wendy up.”

I get up and bend down and pick up the garbage can. I put the crumpled papers back in. I pick up the apple core. On the other side is a whole other bite I didn’t see. I want to put the apple core behind my back and hide it but I won’t because everyone is watching. Patrice told me how my Forever Mom breast-feeds Baby Wendy but I still feel like I have to find food for it and chew it up to help it eat.

I look at the apple core in my hand. I fight hard to make myself drop it back in the garbage.

“How do you like being a big sister for the first time, Ginny?” the younger secretary says.

It is a question she shouldn’t have asked. Because I don’t know how to answer it. To answer it I would have to be nine years old again on the other side of Forever. I would have to subtract myself from this side in order to get back.

“Ginny?”

“What?”

“Do you like being a big sister?”

I let out a big breath. I nod my head yes.

EXACTLY 5:53 AT NIGHT,

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 10TH

I am in the car going to Special Olympics with my Forever Dad. I am wearing my blue T-shirt and short sweatpants, the ones that show my sneakers and socks. The laces are pulled nice and tight. I am ready for anything.

When we