Ginny Moon

by Benjamin Ludwig

  “No,” I say.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she might be holding a crying baby. I know how to help crying babies,” I say.

  “I believe you,” says Patrice. “But a baby who’s crying isn’t necessarily in danger. Was Baby Wendy in danger when you tried to take her?”

  “No,” I say.

  “What were you thinking about when you tried to pick her up?”

  “I was thinking about my Baby Doll.”

  “That’s what I thought,” says Patrice. “So we should probably talk about how to tell the difference between what’s real and what’s in our minds.” She stops and licks her lips. “Ginny, I want to ask how you feel about your Forever Mom. She’s changed a lot since you came home and she had the baby. How do you feel about her?”

  I think. I don’t feel happy or sad about my Forever Mom. I just feel excited and anxious about going up to Canada.

  Patrice keeps talking. “Ginny, part of my job is to help you attach. Attachment means forming a strong relationship between yourself and someone else. Now, I know you have trouble with emotions because of your autism, but some things have happened that have made it extremely difficult for you and your mom to attach in order to remain close. Your dad is doing a great job of taking care of you and spending time with you. He’s trying hard to keep everyone together, but it’s putting an incredible amount of stress on him. I hate to say it, but I don’t know that attachment is even possible between you and your mom right now. You have to want attachment. I know you’re willing, but if she isn’t...”

  She stops. I wait.

  “It’s all about Baby Wendy,” Patrice finally says. “You have to show her that you’re safe around the baby. That having you in the house is safe for the baby.”

  So I say, “I’m not allowed to touch it whatsoever. That’s the most important rule.”

  Patrice looks away. “That’s right,” she says. Her eyes look wet. “Even when it cries. Even when you think it needs something to eat. Even when touching the baby is probably the one thing that would help the most at this point.”

  EXACTLY 2:51 IN THE AFTERNOON,

  THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16TH

  We are sitting in the conference room around a big table. Every single chair is filled.

  “Part of the purpose of today’s meeting is to let Ginny’s teachers meet Rick,” says Mrs. Lomos. “Rick?”

  “I’m pleased to meet you all,” says Rick. He stands up and his chair knocks into the bookcase behind him. He sways and takes his hat off fast with both hands and crumples it and sits down again.

  “Hi, Rick,” say all my teachers. All of them are there. Mrs. Winkleman and Ms. Dana and Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Henkel. Ms. Carol and Ms. Merton and Mr. Crew. Even Ms. Devon the principal. Plus my Forever Parents.

  “We need everyone here to be aware that Rick is Ginny’s Birth Dad, and that there might be times when he’ll come to school to pick Ginny up,” says Mrs. Lomos. “Right now Ginny takes the bus, but there’ll be times when her Forever Parents will call to say that Rick is picking her up.”

  “He has our formal permission,” says my Forever Mom. “All the paperwork is signed in the office. You’re also welcome to talk with him about Ginny’s grades and records, too. Rick is becoming an important part of Ginny’s life.”

  “I’m going to his house for a respite on January 7th,” I say.

  Everyone smiles and nods except my Forever Dad. His eyes are down and there are wrinkles on his forehead.

  “I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” says Mrs. Lomos.

  “My Forever Mom says she needs a break,” I say.

  Everyone is exactly quiet. “Things have been pretty rough at home and school,” Mrs. Lomos says very fast. She looks at all the faces. “All of us will bend over backward to keep our kids safe, but we all need a break sometimes. Ginny is no exception.”

  Rick moves in his chair and makes a noise with his mouth.

  “Is there something you want to add?” says Mrs. Lomos.

  “I just wish someone would talk about what a delightful young lady she is,” says Rick. “Maybe say how funny and smart she can be. With all this talk about keeping people safe and taking rests, it’s like we’re trying to put her in a box. We’re trying to keep her apart from everything. I’m no psychologist, but I think what she needs is to be closer to people.”

  I am confused and my Forever Mom knows it. She puts her hand out to touch my hand but then pulls it back under the table. “It’s an expression, Ginny,” she says. “No one is putting anyone in a box.” Then to Rick she says, “Yes, Rick. Everyone agrees that she’s a creative problem-solver. And extremely resourceful, too. We’re so glad you can be a part of her life so you can see firsthand just what a delight she can be.”

  Rick looks down and away. Then back. “I just—” he starts to say but my Forever Mom interrupts him.

  “Thank you, Rick,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

  EXACTLY 3:03 IN THE AFTERNOON,

  WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22ND

  There will be a Winter Concert tonight and Rick and my Forever Dad are coming to see me play my flute in it. My Forever Mom will stay home with my Forever Sister. Rick is eating over before we leave. We’ll eat early at exactly four-thirty. Then I’ll change into concert attire and we’ll go.

  Rick is walking in the door right now.

  “Patrice says the social workers went to the apartment,” I tell him. “She says they’re having an investigation. They’ll be going to visit every day.”

  “I bet Gloria doesn’t like that,” says Rick. He takes his coat off. My Forever Dad takes it from him and hangs it up in the closet. We go to sit in the living room. I sit on the couch and my Forever Dad sits next to me. Rick sits in the chair by the window. My Forever Mom leans in the doorway. Her hair is longer than I remember it.

  “The paper they wrote said upon their arrival my Baby Doll exhibited no unusual signs of stress,” I say. Because Patrice read the paper to me on the phone last night.

  “Well, that’s good,” says Rick.

  “They’re going to visit it every day,” I say, “because Crystal with a C isn’t there anymore. They’re going to keep an eye on things for a while.”

  Rick takes a drink of his coffee. “Did you ever wonder if maybe Gloria changed?”

  “Her shirt looks mostly different.”

  “Right, but I mean maybe who she is changed. Moms are people, too, you know. They change, just like everyone else. From what I understand, things were pretty difficult for Gloria when you were in the apartment with her. You’re a pretty special kid, Ginny. Plus, there was the baby to deal with, and she was an addict.”

  In my brain I see that he is right. People change. I changed and no one knows it. I changed into (-Ginny).

  “So you don’t think she gets mad and hits anymore?” I say.

  “I didn’t say that,” says Rick. “But if we’re honest, we don’t know that she still does. Like I said, moms change.”

  “My Forever Mom changed,” I say.

  On the other side of the couch my Forever Dad sits up. My Forever Mom stands up straight.

  “Really?” says Rick.

  I nod my head yes. “She—”

  “Ginny,” says my Forever Dad, “Rick’s right. Gloria probably changed a lot since you were living in the apartment. But we have to let the social workers finish their investigation. No one realized that your aunt went over there every day to help her take care of your Baby Doll.”

  “Who knows?” says Rick. “If Gloria gets the help she needs, maybe she can come visit you.”

  Everyone looks at Rick.

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” says my Forever Mom.

  “Why not?” Rick says.

&n
bsp; “Yes, why not?” I say.

  “Because I won’t allow it,” she says.

  “We’re talking about someone who was involved in a kidnapping,” my Forever Dad says.

  “Crystal is in jail,” says Rick.

  “Crystal with a C,” I say.

  “Right, but you don’t think she acted alone, do you?” says my Forever Dad. “We don’t know what the police discovered, but I don’t believe for a second that the two weren’t working together. The case is far from over, but come on, Gloria isn’t someone we want around Ginny. She’s way too volatile.”

  “Like I said before, people change,” says Rick. “Didn’t you folks ever go through a rough patch? I know I sure have. And now look at all of us.”

  I look but I don’t see anything different. I hope no one looks at me.

  “Gloria will never come to this house for a visit,” my Forever Mom says. “Not over my dead body.”

  “All right, then,” says Rick. “I see how it is. I’m a little more open than you, that’s all. Maybe a little more forgiving.”

  “We just want everyone to be safe,” says my Forever Dad.

  “I know, I know,” says Rick. “But sometimes it’s safer to get people together than it is to keep them apart. I sure appreciate what you’re doing here, though. With me and Ginny. Just being able to see and talk with her after all these years has sort of filled me up. And if everything works out...”

  He stops talking and smiles at me. I don’t know why but I smile back.

  EXACTLY 11:56 AT NIGHT,

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24TH—CHRISTMAS EVE

  At exactly seven o’clock I took my shower at Grammy’s house and then I put on my jammies even though I wasn’t in my bedroom at the Blue House. Everyone knows that the true meaning of Christmas is Jesus the Crisis Savior of the World but what it’s really about is presents. There were lots of people at Grammy’s house and all of them had presents for me. I got a new Michael Jackson T-shirt and a book about Michael Jackson and some clothes and some coloring books. Plus a Michael Jackson puzzle and a Michael Jackson mug.

  After opening the presents I ate fish and broccoli and sauerkraut and something called pierogi with meat and cheese in them and mashed potatoes and salad for supper and then after supper at exactly 9:07 we had little hot dogs on toothpicks and little kielbasas and I threw up in the sink. I wanted to go have some more but my Forever Mom said no, that was quite enough.

  Now I am sitting in the car and we are on our way home. The clock in the car says 11:56. It is past my bedtime but all week we talked about how it’s all right to stay up late on Christmas Eve because Christmas Eve is a special occasion. My Forever Sister is asleep in its car seat and my Forever Dad is driving.

  At the Blue House we pull into the driveway. It is all snowy because there was more snow this afternoon at approximately four o’clock when we were at Grammy’s but now there are new tire tracks in it. From the car I can see that there is a big present on the front porch next to the door.

  We all get out. I have all my presents in a big bag with two handles on it. I look at the big present on the porch. I’m guessing it’s for me because I like presents. I would like to open it. I see an envelope sticking out of the door. Then my Forever Dad stops. “Ginny,” he says, “get back in the car with your mom and sister for a minute.”

  Everyone gets back in the car. My Forever Dad walks to the porch and taps the present with his foot and opens the envelope and takes out a piece of paper and reads it.

  It is dark and starting to get cold sitting in the backseat.

  After my Forever Dad finishes with the envelope he opens the door to the house. He opens it fast. Then he goes inside and turns on all the lights. Then he comes back to the car and opens the car door and says, “Everything is fine. Let’s go inside and I’ll make some quick phone calls.” He holds the door for everyone and tells me not to touch the present, to just go straight in and to wait.

  I stop and look at the present. It has candy canes all over the wrapping paper.

  “What did the letter say?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you. Just come inside as quickly as you can. This is important, Ginny.”

  In the house I put my other presents from Grammy’s house in my bedroom and my Forever Mom says to go upstairs with her while she gets my Forever Sister ready for bed. She tells me to go into the bathroom to get washed up. Downstairs I hear my Forever Dad on the phone. He says something about a letter and trespassing which is a word from the Our Father which is a prayer which is something you say at church. But I don’t think he’s talking to a priest. I brush my teeth and wash my face. I want to go back downstairs to get my hairbrush from my bedroom so I can look out the window but my Forever Mom says to just stay where I am until my Forever Dad is off the phone.

  When I’m done flossing my teeth my Forever Dad is already upstairs in the bedroom. He talks with my Forever Mom and they say good-night to Baby Wendy. Then they tell me to go downstairs to get ready for bed.

  “Now can I ask about the present on the porch?” I say.

  “I’m sorry, no,” says my Forever Dad. “We can talk about it in the morning when you wake up. Do you remember what time you should wake up tomorrow?”

  “At nine o’clock,” I say because nine is when I like to wake up. It helps me remember how old I’m supposed to be.

  I go to bed. I’m ready for Santa to come but I still want to know what’s in the big present on the porch. I’m guessing my Forever Dad knows because he read the letter. I wish he would tell me what it said.

  So I’m guessing that the present is from Gloria because they try not to talk about her. I’m guessing Gloria brought me a present for Christmas and left it on the porch. Which means if we’d been home when she came here my Forever Parents would have called the police.

  I start picking at my fingers.

  In the living room I hear my Forever Parents talking but I can’t tell what they’re saying. I want to go out there to talk with them about the present and about Gloria but I know they’ll just get mad. So I stay in bed. I will sleep until exactly nine in the morning like I’m supposed to and then I’ll get up. There will be lots of presents to open but I won’t care because it will be light and I’ll be able to look out the window. I’ll ask my Forever Dad again to tell me about the present. I’m hoping he’ll just tell it straight like Patrice.

  EXACTLY 6:16 IN THE MORNING,

  SATURDAY, DECEMBER 25TH—CHRISTMAS DAY

  We are supposed to open presents when I wake up which will be at exactly nine but it is only 6:16 and my Forever Mom is in my room. She says I need to wake up early because we have to go to Grammy’s house again. We are going to open my presents there instead.

  “But it isn’t nine yet,” I say. I look at the clock and now it is only 6:17. My curtains are still closed and the lights are on in the room.

  “That’s because we’ve had a change of plans,” my Forever Mom says. “So go ahead and go to the bathroom and get dressed. Use the upstairs bathroom, okay? We already have the car packed, so as soon as you’re ready, we can go back to Grammy’s.”

  Now I am brushing my hair in front of the mirror. It is still dark outside. I press my head against the cold black window. My breath fogs up the glass. The big present from Gloria is out there on the porch. Crystal with a C said that Gloria loves me like crazy. But she doesn’t know how to take care of little kids or babies at all. She doesn’t know how to take care of herself either or she wouldn’t have brought the present here. Because it was really, really dangerous even though I want to know what’s in the box. It’s like Forever is a thing she has to break through and she’s using the present to get through it. Like she’s in there trying to break through the dark. The dark inside the present. Or like she’s cracking her way out. She’s trying hard
, hard, hard. First she made a crack by the Blue House and then she tried to break through the doors at school and now she’s trying to break out of the dark inside the present she left for me on the porch.

  I lean back from the window and finish brushing my hair. In the mirror I see my glasses and what I’m wearing. My nice pajamas with the little owls on them. The scrunchie holding up my hair. I have a lot of nice things now. I didn’t have nice things when I was in the apartment. And my body looks different. I’m still really skinny but not as much as I was before. I really hope my Baby Doll remembers me when we all get up to Canada. I hope it won’t see that I’m (-Ginny).

  I go downstairs. My Forever Mom is coming out of the other bathroom. From the living room I look out the window.

  The porch light is on and I can see that the present is gone.

  Where is it? I look and look but I don’t see it anywhere.

  “Time to go,” says my Forever Dad. He is carrying a diaper bag. My Forever Mom is holding my Forever Sister in its car seat.

  We go to the car. I look for the giant present but still don’t see it. When we get into the car I see that the seat behind me is down and there are lots of bags there. They are filled with presents from Santa and from my Forever Parents. I am anxious because I want to know what Gloria sent me. I want to know what the letter said so I keep moving my knees back and forth and pulling up my socks and talking and being careful not to say the wrong thing. My Forever Sister is next to me in its car seat and the presents are behind me and my Forever Parents are putting on their seat belts. “I want to open my presents as soon as we get to Grammy’s,” I say. “I want to go inside and take my boots off and hang up my coat and then go right to the Christmas tree. I want to open the big present from Gloria first.” It is freezing cold and I can see my breath in the car when I breathe.