TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 16TH
I am on my hands and knees on the carpet. My Baby Doll is somewhere crying but I can’t find it. I don’t know if it’s in my room. I don’t know if I’m in my room. I am awake but it’s dark out and it’s dark inside my brain. When I’m deep inside there it’s all the same place. All the houses I’ve ever been in are still in my head and so when I wake up at night with my eyes open I can still fall into any of them by accident.
The crying is getting louder. I can’t turn on the light because Gloria will see me. Or Donald. I have to find my Baby Doll and hide it before they come. I will put my quilt over it and put it in the closet. Or maybe out the window.
I find a bed. I can feel the mattress and the sheets. I check behind it and under the covers. My hand touches a heat register. I crawl around the whole room looking and looking. My Baby Doll is not anywhere but I can still hear it. I want to turn on the light but I’m scared, scared, scared.
Upstairs I hear footsteps and more crying. Is my Baby Doll upstairs? Because I don’t think I can get up there to find it without getting caught. The footsteps are coming closer. I want to hide but I can’t leave it alone where it is. Wherever it is. I can’t climb out the window by myself because then Gloria or Donald will find it instead of me. So I crawl to the middle of the room and stand. I get ready to go ape-shit so that I’ll be a bigger problem than the crying. I have to make them think about me. Only me and not my Baby Doll at all.
I take a deep breath. With my eyes still closed I start to scream. As loud as I can.
The door opens fast. I feel the light turn on. I keep screaming and squeezing my eyes shut. I have to be so loud that— “Ginny! Wake up! You’ve got to wake up! You’re safe!”
I open my eyes but I don’t stop. I hear a different man’s voice but I see Donald. I scream even louder so that Gloria will come down too.
“Ginny, wake up. Wake up! No one is going to hurt you!”
And then—
“Stop screaming!”
I hear a woman’s voice now. She sounds scared. “Ginny, please! You’re scaring the baby!”
So I stop and listen.
“The baby is trying to get back to sleep upstairs. That’s all it is. That’s all it is.”
“My Baby Doll is cr—”
I am coming up out of my brain. I see my Forever Dad. He is standing right in front of me. “No,” he says. “It’s Baby Wendy. Baby Wendy is upstairs trying to get back to sleep.”
Which means I am at the Blue House. I am with my Forever Parents. I am safe.
I feel my knees and legs. I fall. Someone catches me before I hit the carpet.
“Can you get back into bed?” my Forever Mom says.
I nod my head yes. My Forever Dad helps me climb back in. My Forever Mom makes a breathing sound and fixes my blankets. Her mouth is a straight, straight line. She stands up straight and crosses her arms. Then my Forever Dad brings a wet washcloth. And puts his hand on my shoulder. I do not recoil even though he is a man. I lie still and let him wipe my face. “It was just a dream,” he says. “Do you want to come sit with us in the living room? Do you want some company?”
I shake my head no.
“All right,” he says. “Do you want to go back to sleep, then?”
I nod my head yes.
“All right,” he says again. “If you need anything, come get us. We’ll be out in the living room for a while until the baby falls asleep. Okay?”
I close my eyes and nod my head yes. I feel the light turn off and they leave.
On the other side of the door I hear them talking in quiet voices. I open my ears big to hear. “Why the hell do you have to be so accommodating?” says my Forever Mom. “I don’t know how we can do this anymore. When it was just us, it was okay, but things are different now. She isn’t safe!”
“We made a commit—”
“Bullshit!” she says. “That’s bullshit! We didn’t—”
“Shh! And yes, she is safe! The circumstances—”
“Now you sound like Patrice! Things were different before the kidnapping! Before the baby and the kidnapping. Before all the—She was manageable! This was manageable! But don’t you remember what she did to that doll? And then she gave that lunatic mother of hers our address, and she came here and threatened—And then all the reporters and police? And you had to bring her to that damn interview and deal with all those lawyers! And then you had to go to the trial! Think about your health! Your doctor said—What the hell would I do if—School counselor or not, you’re barely holding yourself together! I know you’ve got all those sick days, but it’s been too long for me. Now some of my patients are starting to leave! Look, we can’t expose a baby to all this! I won’t!”
Then their voices get quiet. I know they’re walking away to talk somewhere else. I know that when my Forever Mom said She isn’t safe! she wasn’t talking about my Baby Doll. But my Baby Doll isn’t safe either and I’m the only one who can do something about it.
45
EXACTLY 6:22 AT NIGHT,
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17TH
My Forever Dad is sitting with the man in the leather Patriots jacket and hat. Mostly I’m guessing he likes blue and red. They are talking a lot. It is like they are BFFs.
There is a girl here who pulls her socks up all the time. She reaches down and pulls up the left one and then the right one and then makes two fists and says Yes! when it’s her turn to do a drill or go in the game or practice a layup. She says her name is Katie MacDougall. Not Katie McDonalds. She is visiting with Larry from a different school, she says. Larry is her cousin. And Larry says he is her cousin too. I didn’t ask her which one and I didn’t ask her where she lives or when her birthday is or what her favorite color is but I’m guessing it’s black and gray because that’s what color her socks are. My Forever Parents say when I meet someone new I shouldn’t ask where they live and when their birthday is and how many cats they have because that is a little too forward.
On the other end of the court Katie MacDougall is pulling her socks up again. I pull mine up too. Having my socks pulled up makes me feel even more ready for anything than tightening the laces on my sneakers. Larry comes over to me on his arm braces and takes his arms out so he can shoot hoops. Katie MacDougall walks over to us. She has her mouth open a little and she is breathing loud. “Katie MacDougall,” I say when she gets here, “I have known you since approximately 5:42.”
“Yeah,” she says.
“Will you tell me your birthday?”
“My birthday is September 20th,” she says.
“September 20th,” I say. “That’s exactly two days after my birthday. No one told me I was older than you!”
“I really like your socks,” Katie MacDougall says and pulls hers up some more.