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

on the run. The police can trace them sometimes, so it’s good to use each one once and then get rid of it. And remember to bring the money. And it’s extremely important that you not tell anyone what you’re doing. Don’t let anyone know that you called me and that we talked. If anyone finds out, none of this will work, right? Do you think you can remember all that?”

Gloria doesn’t like to hear the word no so I nod my head yes even though it is way too much to remember.

“Have you ever dyed your hair before? We’ll have to move fast as soon as you get in the car, but we should probably dye your hair. I’ll stash my car somewhere to throw the cops off our trail. Point is, I’ll be driving something else. Then we’ll ditch that and get on a bus. It’s going to be tricky while we’re still in the States, but once we get across the border, it will be easier. It’s so much easier to hide up there in Canada. I already know a place where we can stay, and then after the dust settles, we can start to build a new life, just me and my two girls, just like we’re supposed to.”

“And I’ll take excellent care of my Baby Doll.”

Gloria laughs. “Right. Like I said, we gotta talk about that sometime. Shit, you’ve been through a lot. I can’t believe—No. We have to stop talking now, or you’re going to get caught. So let’s say goodbye, and then I want you to start walking back to the house. When we hang up, you should turn the phone off and then throw it as far into the woods as you can, okay? Then go back inside. Like I said, with a little luck, no one will even know that you were gone. And wait—did you say you had a tournament coming up?”

I nod my head yes. “On Sunday, January 23rd. It’s in the gym.”

“Sunday in the gym. Got it. All right, then. Is there anything else you want to say before we hang up?”

I think. “No,” I say.

“Great. So remember, get as much money as you can, and a few phones, and then walk straight to Cumberland Farms on Tuesday when you get off the bus. That’s where we’ll have our little rendezvous. Be sure to walk, nice and steady. Don’t go slinking around all careful. People notice that sort of thing. Walk with purpose, okay?”

“Okay,” I say.

“Good,” she says. “Now let’s say goodbye. I love you, Ginny.”

“Goodbye,” I say. Then I press the red button on the phone and I stop walking.

I look around at where I am. It is darker than ever now and the road is still sandy and so are my pants and there are piles of snow on the side of the road. Everything is black and white and colder than it was before. So cold that I can’t feel my fingers when I pick at them.

The time is 6:03. I shut the phone off and throw it deep into the woods where no one will find it. Then I turn around and keep walking back to the Blue House.

EXACTLY 3:31 IN THE AFTERNOON,

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 19TH

I am in Patrice’s office again sitting in the flower chair. Agamemnon is lying in a sunbeam on the carpet near the heat register. His eyes are closed but sometimes he moves his tail back and forth.

I take a bite of graham cracker.

“What are you thinking, Ginny?” says Patrice.

“I am thinking about Agamemnon,” I say.

“What about him?”

“He isn’t hiding today.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“His tail is moving but his eyes are shut.”

Patrice looks. Agamemnon’s tail twitches from right to left. “You’re right,” she says. “Sometimes animals do that. They look like they’re asleep, but their minds are moving. In his dreams Agamemnon might be chasing a mouse.”

“Or a chipmunk,” I say. “Or a squirrel.” Because I remember that the Maine coons were great hunters.

Patrice stands up. She picks up Agamemnon and turns to me. “Is it all right if I put him on your lap?”

I nod my head yes. I haven’t held a cat in a long, long time. I wonder if I remember how to do it. The last alive thing I held was my Baby Doll. Five years ago when I picked it up to put it in the suitcase. Then before I can think any more Patrice puts Agamemnon on my lap. His head is near my knees. I put my arms around his sides. With my right hand I start to pet him. He purrs.

My eyes are wet. It is hard to see.

“There,” says Patrice. “Now, that’s a surprise, isn’t it? You’re pretty good at holding cats. Now the two of you can get to know each other. He’ll just keep on dreaming, if you let him. I wonder if we could talk about what happened last night. Brian and Maura tell me that they found you climbing back into your window.”

I wipe my eyes and go back to petting Agamemnon. “I went outside,” I say.

“Yes, I’d gathered that,” says Patrice. “They said that you wouldn’t tell them why, though. They said that you had your backpack with you, and your DVD player and fourteen movies inside it.”

“I am fourteen years old,” I say.

“Right. You’re fourteen years old, so of course that’s how many movies you would bring. Did you watch a movie while you were outside?”

“I was going to watch The Sound of Music but then I didn’t.”

“What made you stop?”

I make sure my mouth is closed tight. I think. And keep moving my hands deep in Agamemnon’s fur.

“I’m going to wait until you’re ready to answer,” says Patrice. She picks up some blue-and-white yarn from a basket next to her chair. There are two long silver needles in the yarn. She starts to knit. “But I’ll ask the question again in case you forgot it. What made you stop watching the movie?”

“I got