TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14TH
Before I went outside to get on the bus I counted the five slices of bread that were left in the bread bag and my Forever Mom said the word approximately means close to but not exactly. And that the bread is approximately gone. So if today is September 14th then tonight when I go to bed it will be approximately the 15th. Then at midnight the 15th will be exactly here.
Approximately is a good word to use when you can’t get to a watch or a clock. It’s also good for thinking about your Baby Doll if you don’t know exactly if anyone found it or exactly the time Gloria might bring it to the Harvest Concert.
But I can’t think about what time she might come because the bus is pulling into the school parking lot and I see a parked car that looks approximately like the Green Car. My watch says it is exactly 6:59. The car I see is green like I remember but it doesn’t have the thick piece of plastic Gloria taped to the back window when it broke. And standing in front of the car is someone who looks approximately like Gloria but not exactly. She is far away but she is really, really skinny and mostly she has the same kind of hair but she isn’t wearing the shirt from the Facebook picture. I stare and stare at her out the window until we stop in front of the school. Then I get off the bus. I want to walk around the bus to see if it is her but Mrs. Wake is right there on the sidewalk waiting for me. She brings me inside.
Plus yesterday I told Gloria that she should come to the Harvest Concert so it can’t be her.
Mrs. Lomos called my Forever Parents yesterday and told them about the glue. I had to write a letter of apology to Mrs. Wake. I take it out of my backpack and hold it out to her. “Here,” I say.
She takes it.
We go to homeroom and then to language arts. Now it is exactly 7:45. Mrs. Wake reads the letter when she sits down. All she says is “Thank you, Ginny.” Her mouth is a thin line and she is not talking as much as she did yesterday. I’m guessing she is angry but she isn’t yelling so I don’t have to be careful. But still I don’t argue when she tells me to take out my homework. We are working on the hurricane project both in science and in language arts.
My homework was to make a list of things to take with me in case there is a hurricane and I need to seek shelter. I made a list of exactly twenty-three things with a line between number five and number six. Everything above the line is what Mrs. Wake helped me with yesterday. Everything under it is what I did on my own.
1. A cell phone (to call family and friends)
2. A flashlight (to look at things in the dark)
3. Food (to eat)
4. A radio (to hear news about the hurricane)
5. Batteries (for the radio and the flashlight)
* * *
6. Some books about Michael Jackson (to read when I’m not listening to the radio)
7. My iPod (to listen to when I’m not reading books or listening to the radio)
8. The headphones to my iPod (to plug into my iPod)
9. My iPod charger (to charge my iPod)
10. Some games like Uno, for example (to play)
11. My hairbrush (to brush my hair)
12. A scrunchie (to hold my hair up)
13. My toothbrush (to brush my teeth)
14. Some toothpaste (to put on my toothbrush)
15. Deodorant
16. New underwear (just in case)
17. Socks (if my feet get wet)
18. Flip-flops (if my feet get wet again)
19. A blanket (for everyone to sit on)
20. Drinks (for us to drink)
21. A cooler (to keep our drinks cool)
22. Bendy straws (for our drinks)
23. Popcorn (to have with our drinks)
“Come with me, Ginny,” says a voice.
I look up from my paper. It is Mrs. Lomos. I am surprised she is here. I am surprised by her earrings too. They are little white masks.
“Come to my office for a minute,” she says. I tell her that I am checking over my homework before I pass it in. She says that I need to go with her now. So I do.
The time is exactly 7:52. I follow Mrs. Lomos into her tiny office. She asks me to sit down. She shuts the door and says, “Ginny, when was the last time you saw Gloria?”
“I saw her four years ago on April 18th when the police came to take me away,” I say. “She cried and cried and said, ‘I’m so sorr—’”
“Are you sure that was the last time you saw her?” says Mrs. Lomos.
“You interrupted me,” I say.
“I’m sorry to have interrupted you,” says Mrs. Lomos. “It’s just that you’ve told me how Gloria cried and said, ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,’ a lot of different times already. But right now it’s important that you think very hard and tell me if you’ve seen Gloria recently.”
I’m not sure if Mrs. Lomos is asking a question so I don’t say anything.
Then Mrs. Lomos says, “Let’s try again. When was the last time you saw Gloria?”
So I say, “Do you mean exactly or approximately?”
Mrs. Lomos’s face looks surprised. “Exactly,” she says.
But I’m still not exactly sure that it was Gloria who I saw in the parking lot so I say, “The last time I exactly saw her was on April 18th four years ago.”
“Did you approximately see her after that?” she says.
“Yes,” I say. “I approximately saw her this morning.”
“How can you be sure it was her?”
“I said it was only approxi—”
“Ginny, what did you see?”
“I saw a person near a green car and her head was mostly the same but her shirt was different.”
“Thank you,” says Mrs. Lomos. “Now, I have to make a phone call. While I’m doing that, I’m going to give you a very important job. I want you to write down everything that you did this morning.”
She hands me a pencil and a pad of white lined paper. The pencil is not my Snoopy pencil which is the only pencil I like to use.
“Everything?” I say.
“Everything,” says Mrs. Lomos. “Start with what happened when you woke up, and end with what we just finished talking about.”
So I look at the tip of the pencil which is very, very sharp and I get ready to write. Then I start thinking about how Gloria came to the Blue House and what it might mean that I saw someone who looks approximately like her when I got to school.
I think and I think and I think.