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

free samples. A man in a blue coat came out from behind a door and asked Gloria to shop somewhere else so she got mad and yelled at him and in the parking lot she peeled out.

We’ll just have to expand our range, she said to me when we were driving out of the parking lot.

“Ginny?”

I come up out of my brain. I am not in the Green Car. “What?”

“Do you understand that it’s wrong to take things that aren’t yours?”

I nod my head yes even though I know sometimes you have to.

“We have plenty to eat at the Blue House. You don’t have to take food or hide it anymore. If you want to bring an extra snack to school, you have to tell me,” she says. “We can’t have any more incidents. It’s all just too much. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say.

EXACTLY 3:12 IN THE AFTERNOON,

FRIDAY, JANUARY 14TH

I used to play Flap, Flap, Flap, Tent! with my Baby Doll. It was an easy game to play. You hold the edge of a shirt in two hands and flap it three times so that it makes wind on the baby’s face and then on the third flap you let the shirt rest on its head. But you keep holding it so that it makes a tent and then you look under it so that both of you are inside. And the baby laughs. So you do it again.

But I don’t have to use a shirt now because Baby Wendy has a family and nice things. It has a mom and a dad who take good care of it. It even has its own bed.

I am playing Flap, Flap, Flap, Tent! with Baby Wendy right now. We are using a white burp cloth.

Maura is on the couch. Asleep. She was sitting next to Baby Wendy while I did my homework at the kitchen table and then her eyes closed. Baby Wendy was next to her in its bouncy seat. It started to fuss so I picked up the burp cloth and started playing Flap, Flap, Flap, Tent! with it.

Now Baby Wendy is laughing and laughing. I am kneeling in front of it. It makes a surprised face when I make my mouth and eyes turn into round circles and it waves its arms while the cloth is flapping and then every time I say Tent! a laugh comes up from its belly. The laugh makes it smile and look into my eyes.

I play Flap, Flap, Flap, Tent! nine times with Baby Wendy. I am careful not to touch it because I remember the most important rule. It laughs and laughs and laughs. I look over at Maura. She is still asleep. Then when I look back at Baby Wendy Maura moves her arms. She stretches. Her eyes open.

I put the white cloth down on my lap and wait.

She doesn’t move. “What’s the most important rule?” she says.

“I will not touch Baby Wendy whatsoever,” I say.

She sits up. She looks at the clock. “Did you touch her?”

I shake my head no.

“Then what are you doing with the burp cloth?”

“Playing Flap, Flap, Flap, Tent!” I say.

“What is that?”

“A game I used to play with my Baby Doll,” I say. “You flap the cloth and make wind.”

Maura sits up. “Let me clarify the rule for you,” she says. “Touching means touching with your hands or with an object. Now, what’s in your hand?”

“A white cloth,” I say.

“And a white cloth is an object,” she says. “So, are you allowed to play that game with Wendy?”

I think. Then I shake my head no. I put the white cloth down on the ground.

“Good,” says Maura.

I stand up. Baby Wendy laughs when I move past it.

Maura looks surprised. “Did you just laugh?” she says to Baby Wendy.

Baby Wendy doesn’t answer so I nod my head yes for it.

Maura gets down on the floor in front of the bouncy seat. Where I was. It is like she wants to take my place. She kisses Baby Wendy on the head and says to it, “Can you laugh again for Mommy?” But Baby Wendy doesn’t laugh. I am glad.

I know it won’t laugh because I’m not playing Flap, Flap, Flap, Tent! with it anymore. I know it laughed when I stood up because it thought I was still playing. So I say, “It wants to play the game some more.”

Maura looks at me then at Baby Wendy again. “Show me,” she says.

So I kneel down in front of it and pick up the cloth. I make my mouth and eyes into big round circles. Baby Wendy picks up its hands. Then I lift the cloth high and bring it down nice and slow. The wind makes the baby’s hair move. It closes its eyes and mouth and opens them again. Its feet and hands start to wave. After the third flap I say, “Tent!” and bend forward and let the cloth cover our heads.

When I take the cloth off the baby laughs and laughs again.

I look at Maura. She doesn’t say anything. Her eyes look wet. “How long did you take care of your sister?” she says.

I am confused. “Do you mean Baby Wendy?”

“I mean your Baby Doll.”

“For approximately one year,” I say.

“One whole year,” she says. “While your mother was taking drugs and selling cats and running from the police.”

That wasn’t a question so I don’t say anything.

“And you used to scream whenever the baby wouldn’t stop crying?”

I look at Baby Wendy. It is chewing on its hand. I don’t want to answer but I have to. “Yes,” I say. Because it’s true, 100 percent. That was how I used to get Gloria and Donald to leave my Baby Doll alone.

Maura shakes her head. “It’s too much,” she says. “It’s all just too much at once.”

EXACTLY 9:18 IN THE MORNING,

SATURDAY, JANUARY 15TH

“Ginny, I have to feed the baby,” says Maura.

I am in the dining room eating breakfast. I have my cereal and my grapes