The Original Ginny Moon. Benjamin Ouvrier Ludwig

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The Original Ginny Moon - Benjamin Ouvrier Ludwig


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didn’t see any crazy things,” I say and put another Hershey’s Kiss in my mouth. And then I look up because it’s a rule that You should make eye contact when you talk with someone.

      “I’m sorry,” says Patrice. “I shouldn’t put it that way. It’s not drama at all, really. It’s just that a lot is going on all at once. Can you tell me about what happened yesterday with Gloria? Your parents tell me she came to school.”

      I crinkle the silver wrapper between my fingers into a ball. “That’s right,” I say. “Gloria came to my school. I saw her in the parking lot yesterday when I got off the bus. She had the Green Car.”

      “When you first saw her, what did you think?”

      “I wasn’t sure if it was her.”

      “Why weren’t you sure?”

      “Because she had a different head.”

      “If you had been sure it was her, what would you have done differently?”

      I don’t answer because I don’t want Patrice to know what I would have done. I close my mouth tight and start counting.

      Then Patrice says, “No one knows how she managed to find where you live, but she wasn’t supposed to come see you. It’s not allowed, Ginny. It’s just not safe. She’s still completely impulsive. She hasn’t changed at all. Well, maybe I shouldn’t go that far, but she still flies off the handle.”

      “Did she peel out?” I ask. Because Gloria gets really, really mad when someone says she isn’t allowed to do something.

      “I’m not sure,” says Patrice.

      “Did she make quite a scene?”

      “From what I was told, yes, she did. She tried to get into the building. The doors were locked and she wouldn’t go away. She asked if she could see you, but since no one at school knew who she was, they called the police. Then she used a rock to try to break through the door. The police walked her back to her car, and that’s when you climbed up to the window.”

      I sit and I think. I am glad Patrice is telling me what happened. Patrice always tells me the truth. She calls it telling it straight because a lot of people keep things secret from me.

      “Ginny?” says Patrice.

      “What?”

      I am picking at my fingers again.

      “It’s extremely important that you never go with Gloria. If you do, you could get hurt. Your Forever Parents already have a restraining order against her so she can’t come to the Blue House, and now they’re going to have one that says she can’t come to school. Do you know what a restraining order is?”

      I shake my head no.

      “It’s like a rule, only bigger. It’s like a law. A law for one person. I suppose we could say that it’s against the law for Gloria to see you now. It’s just not safe. I really don’t understand why you want to go back to see her again. It bothers your Forever Parents, too. You almost died when you were there. Can you help us understand?”

      “I want to see if my Baby Doll is okay,” I say.

      “Oh my goodness, Ginny, I know you’ve been through a lot—more than anyone should ever have to go through—but we’ve been over this so many times!” says Patrice. “Remember, we decided that the reason you want to take care of a Baby Doll is because you were like a little baby when you were in the apartment. And we don’t want to see what happened to the plastic electronic baby doll happen to you again. Do you see what I’m saying? Gloria hurt you pretty badly, Ginny. Do you remember what you looked like when the police took you out of the apartment? Do you remember how thin you were? And all the injuries? You were lucky to be alive. I know she’s your Birth Mom, but Gloria just isn’t capable of taking care of young children.”

      She keeps talking and asking me questions about all the bad things Gloria did and every time I tell her yes, I know, I get it, Gloria isn’t a safe person which is why I need to go back to get my Baby Doll. But Patrice just keeps shaking her head and saying no, Ginny, I’m sorry, your Baby Doll isn’t a real baby, I checked the records.

      So finally I make my hands into tight, tight balls and squeeze my eyes shut and yell, “It’s not in the records. It’s in the suitcase.”

      She stops. “Ginny, I know you think that no one listens to you, but we checked the suitcase. The police went back to look after they brought you to the hospital. There was nothing inside.”

      “There was nothing inside?” I say.

      Patrice shakes her head. “Nothing. There was a suitcase under the bed, but it was empty. And the social workers visited you quite a few times before you were taken out of the apartment. Don’t you think they would have known if there was a baby?”

      I blink. If the suitcase was empty then I told Gloria to look in the wrong place when I wrote to her on September 13th. But I don’t know where the right place is. I don’t know where to tell her to find my Baby Doll.

      “Ginny?”

      Someone must have taken it out of the suitcase after the police took me out of the apartment. But who?

      “Ginny?”

      “When did they go back to look?”

      “As soon as they left you at the hospital.”

      It was a short drive to the hospital in the police car. I didn’t have a watch yet so I don’t know how long but it couldn’t have been a long time.

      Which means I might not have been too late. Or I was too late and someone—

      “Ginny?” Patrice says again. “Do you need a beverage?”

      I look at her but I don’t see her face. I don’t see anything because my brain is working hard to figure out what happened after the police took me to the hospital.

       14

       EXACTLY 6:52 IN THE MORNING, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH

      Who took my Baby Doll out of the suitcase?

      I am on the bus thinking about things I don’t like to think about. Deep in my brain. Most of the time I keep them locked away in the dark but now I have to bring them out because the police checked the suitcase when I was at the hospital and they didn’t find anything in it.

      I think about Donald. Could it be him?

      Donald had pants but mostly he didn’t wear them at night when he came out of Gloria’s room to see me. It was always easy to tell if the man in Gloria’s room was Donald because Miller was there. Miller was the cat’s name and he belonged to Donald. Miller used to run in front of the cages and meow at all the Maine coons.

      Miller really liked me. Maybe it was because we both got our names the same way. He didn’t like to go away with Donald when Donald left in the mornings. I used to watch him pick Miller up like Miller was a baby and put him in the cat carrier. Then he would bring Miller out to the car and drive away but he always brought Miller back with him when he came to sleep in Gloria’s room which was where they went to play a game called Hide the Cannoli. I spent a lot of time looking for the cannoli when no one was home but I never found it. I’m guessing it was in a secret drawer or maybe they took it with them when they went away.

      But one time I didn’t want Miller to go so I picked him up and put him in a suitcase with a lot of blankets and pillows to keep him quiet. He scratched my arm and hand while I was holding him down but then I put a sweatshirt over his head and got the lid closed.

      Then I zipped the suitcase and put it under my bed. Donald looked for him but couldn’t find him and finally he said, “I’ll just leave the


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