My leg starts kicking the leg of the bench with the back of my heel.
“Ginny, would you please stop that?” says my Forever Mom without looking because she is looking at my Forever Sister who is asleep like a doll or a dead cat or something. Like a plastic electronic baby that doesn’t even move. They don’t understand that when a baby sleeps it’s time to leave it alone and go find food. Find something you can chew up so that it’s soft enough to put in my Baby Doll’s mouth and help it swallow. Go find something to eat so my own belly won’t be so tight. And push my arms out straight and move my shoulders because I’ve been holding my Baby Doll so long to keep it happy that my whole body hurts, hurts, hurts.
“Ginny, stop!” says my Forever Mom.
I kick hard one last time and swing my leg at the garbage can. It makes a loud noise and knocks over. I am glad. My Forever Sister’s tiny fists rise above the edge of the car seat. The secretaries and my Forever Mom all make breathing sounds and look at it. Then at me. With angry faces.
“Ginny,” my Forever Mom says, “can you just, please, sit there and be patient? And pick up that garbage can. You almost woke Wendy up.”
I get up and bend down and pick up the garbage can. I put the crumpled papers back in. I pick up the apple core. On the other side is a whole other bite I didn’t see. I want to put the apple core behind my back and hide it but I won’t because everyone is watching. Patrice told me how my Forever Mom breast-feeds Baby Wendy but I still feel like I have to find food for it and chew it up to help it eat.
I look at the apple core in my hand. I fight hard to make myself drop it back in the garbage.
“How do you like being a big sister for the first time, Ginny?” the younger secretary says.
It is a question she shouldn’t have asked. Because I don’t know how to answer it. To answer it I would have to be nine years old again on the other side of Forever. I would have to subtract myself from this side in order to get back.
“Ginny?”
“What?”
“Do you like being a big sister?”
I let out a big breath. I nod my head yes.
42
EXACTLY 5:53 AT NIGHT,
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 10TH
I am in the car going to Special Olympics with my Forever Dad. I am wearing my blue T-shirt and short sweatpants, the ones that show my sneakers and socks. The laces are pulled nice and tight. I am ready for anything.
When we get to the parking lot at school there are a lot of cars. It’s dark and so it’s hard to see. My Forever Dad reminds me not to open the door and jump right out. I need to wait for him to come and open it. It’s not a good idea to run across a parking lot because you could get hit by a car or a minivan or maybe even a motorcycle. Motorcycles are extremely dangerous if you aren’t wearing a helmet.
As I walk I think about Gloria. If she knew my practice was at six every Wednesday she might come to see it. She might even try to kidnap me. She is impulsive enough to try. And then she would get in trouble with the police. So I look around. I don’t see the Green Car anywhere in the parking lot but I do see a police car. I stand close to my Forever Dad. He waves at the police officer in the car and the police officer waves back.
I put on a frowning face and cross my arms.
In the school we walk to the gym. When we get there I see Brenda Richardson and her mom and dad. Brenda Richardson is a new kid who goes to Room Five. I see Larry and Kayla Zadambidge and a lot of other kids. Some of them are kids from school but some are from other towns. I don’t know their names. They have so many different heads and they are moving so fast that I can’t count them. Larry sees me and waves one of his arm braces.
Ms. Dana is one of the coaches. She shows us how to line up with partners and pass the basketball back and forth. She shows us how to shoot layups and foul shots. She shows us how to put our arms up so that people on the other team can’t pass the ball. There’s a lot to learn but I’m good at learning so I like it.
The other coach is Coach Dan. He’s mostly nice but he’s also a man so I don’t talk with him. I talk only with Ms. Dana.
Everyone at Special Olympics gives each other hugs when they make mistakes but I don’t like hugs so I get high fives instead. I love Special Olympics. It is like Bubbles finding a lot of other chimps or Little Michael Jackson finding his brothers or Michelle Whipple finding a whole bunch of Michelle Whipples even though Michelle Whipple is a real asshole which is mostly an expression. Because a person can’t be an asshole for real. But Special Olympics is the best. It is the bomb which is what Larry says and I can’t wait to come back to Special Olympics next week on Wednesday at exactly six o’clock after supper.
Alison Hill throws the ball to me. It bounces far down the court. I have been practicing only a little while but now I need a drink.
I see my Forever Dad and walk to him. The time is exactly 6:13. He is sitting on the bleachers with the other Forever Parents talking with a man wearing a leather Patriots jacket and a leather Patriots hat. I ask my Forever Dad for my water bottle. He hands it to me and I take a drink. “Are you having a good time out there?” he says.
“Yes, I am,” I say when I finish drinking because if you talk while you drink the water will fall out of your mouth. Juice does that too. And milk. When milk falls out of your mouth you have to wipe it fast with a cloth to soak it up and suck on it. In my brain I see my Baby Doll lying on my quilt.
Then I remember. I remember what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m supposed to be back in the apartment taking care of my Baby Doll. Or up in Canada taking care of it. I am not supposed to be playing a game.
Someone yells my name. I don’t know who it is and I don’t care. Because I am sinking into my brain.
“Ms. Dana taught you a new kind of pass tonight,” my Forever Dad says.
I don’t see him. “I need to go back,” I say.
“All right,” he says.
I turn and take two steps.
“Ginny?”
I come up out of my brain and look around. I see the bleachers and the lights and the gym all around me. I am confused.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” my Forever Dad says.
I look at my hands. I am still holding my water bottle. I give it back to him. He laughs. The sound makes me smile a little.
Then I hear another voice. The man in the leather Patriots jacket is laughing with us but he is laughing more than I want him to. More than he’s supposed to be. It is not a mean laugh but he is laughing way too much.
I look at him hard. He stops and looks away.