Larry climbs down on the floor and slides his legs under the seat in front of us. He pushes one of his arm braces way down with him. He shoves the other one under the seat across the aisle.
When he finishes he says, “Maybe someday we’ll see each other again. When we’re older. You’ll come back to find me, right?”
“I’ll come back to find you,” I say but my brain is too distracted to think right now.
He puts his hand up for me to squeeze. I squeeze it.
All the other kids are already at the front of the bus. I follow them and hurry down the steps. When I get to Ms. Carol I stop. “Larry is on the floor,” I say.
“What do you mean?” she says.
“His braces are under the seat. I’m guessing he needs help.”
“Is he hurt?”
I make sure my mouth is closed. Larry could have gotten hurt when I was getting off the bus. He could have hit his head on the seat or gotten his hand stuck in a spring. “I don’t know,” I say.
Ms. Carol stands on her tippy-toes. She looks with her too-big eyes into the bus. “Ginny, just stay here,” she says. “Just stay right here for a minute while I go check on him.”
She gets on the bus and says something to the bus driver. The bus driver looks in the mirror. Ms. Carol walks down the aisle.
I move up close to the bus under the windows. So close that I see the yellow screws in the yellow paint. So close that I can’t see who’s inside.
And they can’t see me.
I run.
I run until I get to the end of the bus. Then I remember to slow down and walk like Gloria said. I walk slow and steady down the sidewalk. Past cars with parents in them. Past the flagpole. Past the end of the bus loop. Past the Drug Free School Zone sign. Past the whole school.
I turn around one last time to see if anyone is chasing me and yelling, “Ginny! No! Don’t do it! Don’t cross the street!”
But no one is there. I am going to the little rendezvous all by myself.
I walk past the parking lot and some bushes and trees. Then in front of me I see cars driving fast on the road in both directions. On the other side of them is the gas station. The sign above it says Cumberland Farms.
I get to the corner. There is a white crosswalk in front of me made of two parallel lines. Parallel means two things that are next to one another but don’t touch. The lines are white, white, white.
I put my toes at the edge of the curb and look across. The cars are going by very fast right in front of me and I don’t think I can get between them. I want to pick at my hands and fingers but I am wearing mittens. Then a black car stops and the driver starts waving. Only he isn’t waving like he’s saying hello. He is waving like he’s angry. Then I see that he is telling me to walk. He has stopped the cars going one way. I step onto the road.
And I see that I am walking on a giant, giant equal sign.
Something in my chest jumps. I’m guessing it is my heart. The equal sign is right under my feet. I am crossing to the other side of Forever. To the place where I am nine years old and my Baby Doll is waiting.
The driver honks. I come up out of my brain and see that I’m standing right in front of the black car. Still not moving. The man in the driver’s seat yells and bangs the steering wheel. I hurry past him and see other cars stopped in the other lane. The one in front is white. The driver in it is waving her hand at me like the first. I run as fast as I can all the way across the rest of the road.
Now the road and the cars and the bus are behind me. Ms. Carol and Larry and Brian and Maura are all behind me now because I have crossed the giant equal sign to the other side. To the place where I belong.
I look down to see if I’m shorter. If my clothes still fit. Nothing looks different so I look around me instead. I see exactly four gas pumps with a big roof over them and the gas station. There are cars parked outside the building. Two of them are green but in my brain I remember neither of them is Gloria’s because Gloria said she was going to drive a different one. I stand here looking and looking and thinking hard. Then someone calls my name.
It is Gloria. She is at the corner of the store wearing a yellow hat with a pom-pom on top. I start walking toward her but then there is a loud noise and a car stops fast right next to me. The driver puts his hands up and shakes them. Through the glass I hear him yell.
Gloria runs to me. She takes my hand and we hurry past the gas pumps. She brings me behind the building to a blue car.
“Ginny, you need to look where you’re going!” Gloria says to me. “Shit. I need to hug you.”
She gives me the biggest hug I have ever had. She is hugging me so tight that I can’t move. I feel her bones under her coat. Her shoulder bones and her back. She’s still really, really skinny.
Finally Gloria lets go. She pushes back from me. “Honey, you can’t walk out in front of cars! You have to look both ways. Shit, you got tall,” she says. “You haven’t really filled out yet, though. How many boyfriends have you had?”
I start to say that I have had zero boyfriends but I hear a tapping sound and when I look I see the Other Ginny right there in the car. She sees me and I see her. She puts her hand flat against the window.
“Do you recognize her now?” says Gloria. “It’s Krystal with a K. That’s your sister.”
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Krystal with a K is my Baby Doll.”
And Gloria says, “Right. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. That’s Krystal with a K. Don’t you see? That’s the surprise I was talking about on the phone. She grew up. Well, got older, anyway. Just like you did.”
I don’t know if Gloria is teasing me or not because the Other Ginny is way too old to be my Baby Doll. My little sister will always be my little baby and this girl is much, much older than that. I shake my head no. “That’s the Other Ginny,” I say.
Gloria laughs. She makes a motion in the air with her hand and then the Other Ginny opens the car door and walks to us. She is skinny and her hair is brown and her eyes are green.
Which means she looks approximately like me.
“Hi, Ginny,” she says.
That was not a question so I don’t say anything. I don’t have to say anything at all to the Other Ginny unless she asks a question.
“There,” says Gloria. “You recognize your Baby Doll, don’t you?”
“That’s not it,” I say.
“Don’t you remember me?” says the Other Ginny. “I have your picture. Mom gave it to me, and I’ve been carrying it with me everywhere. I showed it to you on Sunday.”
I want to say Well Dang! because she asked me something. So I say, “I don’t remember you. My Baby Doll is one year old.”
“Not anymore I’m not,” she says.