The Truth According to Ginny Moon Benjamin Ludwig (books to read in your 30s .txt) 📖

hide. I heard them coming. I saw the blue lights. Someone was knocking. Loud. Gloria ran fast. I grabbed the suitcase and dragged it inside. Even though it hurt my arm really bad. Then I picked up my Baby Doll from the bed and put it in the suitcase. I put all my pillows and blankets around it even though the suitcase still smelled really bad. I saw its green eyes get big like round circles and blink when I put my quilt over them. Then I pushed the suitcase back under my bed and put more blankets around it and some clothes too. Then I climbed into the cabinet under the sink in the kitchen. And the police broke open the door to the apartment.

That was the day the first Forever started.

But I remember the day exactly. I know I put my Baby Doll in the suitcase. If the police didn’t find it where can it be?

The bus stops. I come up fast out of my brain and take a deep breath through my nose. We are at school. I have to find a way to make Mrs. Wake leave me alone again so I can get back on a computer. I have to ask Gloria what happened.

“Hey, babe,” says a voice.

I look up. It is Larry. He is standing up in the aisle with his backpack on. We are on the bus.

“It’s time to go. But ladies first,” he says with a big smile and sweeps his hand out. Then his face turns red and he looks at the ground. I stand up and walk in front of him and hurry out the door.

EXACTLY 10:33 IN THE MORNING,

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 18TH

My Forever Parents are outside right now walking around the yard. My Forever Mom walks all the time now because she wants the baby inside her to descend. That means it is almost ready to come out.

I am in my room holding my quilt and crying. Because I am fourteen years old. Right this minute. Right now. And I’m not supposed to be. I’m supposed to be nine years old and keeping my Baby Doll safe. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be nine years old.

My Forever Dad knocks on my door and opens it.

“Ginny, why don’t you come outside with us? I thought you’d like to play catch.”

“I don’t want to,” I say.

“All right,” he says. “Then how about basketball? We could shoot some hoops.”

“I want to stay in my room,” I say.

“Ginny, it’s your birthday. I know a lot has been going on and you’re confused, but this should be a happy time. We’re going to have presents and cake after supper.”

He keeps trying to get me to come outside but I won’t go. I need to be alone inside my brain right now. Even though it’s my birthday. Even though there will be presents and cake after supper. At 10:36 he finally leaves.

Manicoon.com. Manicoon.com. I say the website over and over with my mouth. Quiet in a whisper. It is the only thing that matters. I tried to get on it yesterday but I couldn’t get away from Mrs. Wake. I have to get on the computer one more time to ask Gloria where my Baby Doll went and to tell her to wait. And she has to wait for the Harvest Concert like I told her. She can’t be impulsive and try to come sooner. She has to, has to, has to wait or she’ll get caught and ruin everything.

EXACTLY 9:10 IN THE MORNING,

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 20TH

We are in language arts writing poems about picking apples. Tomorrow we are going to the apple cider farm and the apple poems are helping us get ready. To help us write the poems we read one by Robert Frost. It has apple trees and a ladder in it. If I had a ladder right now I would climb out of this classroom. I have to escape from it so that I can go to the library and get on a computer.

Which means I have to find something new to glue Mrs. Wake to.

When you write a poem you have to talk about things that mean something else. The ladder in Robert Frost’s poem means heaven, Mrs. Carter said. So in my poem I put a ladder that means I am climbing out of my bedroom window to go with Gloria. We have to draw a picture to go with our poem so I draw the Green Car and the Blue House and me on the ladder climbing out of my room. Next I will draw a picture of my Baby Doll in the Green Car but Mrs. Carter is standing next to my desk looking down at what I’m drawing. She says it isn’t appropriate.

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t,” says Mrs. Wake when she sees the picture. “And I think we should probably show this to Mrs. Lomos.”

So Mrs. Wake brings me down to Mrs. Lomos’s office. We pass the water fountain and the bathroom and the janitor’s closet. I think about pushing her in there and locking the door. I run ahead and jiggle the door handle. It is locked.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Wake asks.

“Jiggling the door handle,” I say.

I think about locking her somewhere else but it would have to be somewhere really, really quiet. Otherwise someone might hear her banging to get out.

Mrs. Lomos says Mrs. Carter was right. It wasn’t appropriate to draw pictures of Gloria and the Green Car. Or me escaping. When I ask why not she says because Gloria isn’t safe and the picture means I want to go with her.

Which makes sense. So it isn’t appropriate for me to draw what I really want because people might find out about it. I am surprised that Mrs. Lomos told me that but I’m glad because now I can do a better job at keeping it secret.

“We’re going to keep you safe in