A police officer stands in front of Gloria pointing at the Green Car. He shakes his head. Gloria’s mouth opens and I know she is angry. Even though I can’t hear her. The police officer points at the Green Car again. Then two more police cars come driving up fast but their lights aren’t on. I hear their engines through the glass. Two more police officers get out of each police car. Now there are five.
Gloria spits.
One of the police officers steps really, really close to her. She puts her hands up and turns her head down and away and reaches for the door of the Green Car.
There is a radiator in front of the window. I climb on top of it and put my arms up against the glass. Then I put my face close to it and hit the glass again and again with my hands and start to scream.
Gloria looks up. At the window. I lean back to hit the glass as hard as I can. Then I hit it again and again. And again and again. I can’t make it break.
I jump off the radiator and grab a chair. I lift it up high above my head and run.
Someone grabs me. The chair comes out of my hands and I fall. It is the principal and Ms. Dana. I am going ape-shit because I need to tell Gloria not to go. I need to tell her to come help me escape but Ms. Dana pulls me down and puts me on the floor. She is on top of me so I can’t get up. I kick and fight. I bite her in the arm. She yells and lets go.
“Ginny!” I hear someone say. “Ginny!”
It is Mrs. Lomos. I see her feet.
I stand. “It—” I say. “It was exa—” But the words don’t come and then the principal grabs me from behind. I am falling but as I go down I look out the window and see the Green Car driving away. Now I’m on the floor again next to a book rack with Julie of the Wolves and Island of the Blue Dolphins. My eyes want to cry but they can’t because my breath is catching and catching and I can’t breathe. I see Ms. Dana and Mrs. Lomos and Mrs. Wake and the librarian and now it feels like I’m under water or a blanket and then everything is dark.
EXACTLY 3:31 IN THE AFTERNOON, TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14TH
My Forever Parents are home. Both of them. They are in the living room talking with a police officer who is not wearing a uniform. Not the one who came to school. I know he is a police officer because my Forever Parents told me. I am standing up in my room and I will not sit down again until he leaves.
I am angry because Gloria came to school and I didn’t get to go with her. I told her to come to the Harvest Concert but she came today instead. When I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t see if my Baby Doll was in the backseat. She is completely unreliable. I wish she was like Crystal with a C. Crystal with a C knows I don’t like expressions. I’ll always tell you the truth, Ginny, she used to say to me. Even if it’s hard to hear. I believed her 100 percent and I try to always tell the truth 100 percent too. Or also which is mostly the same as too but spelled different.
At exactly 3:40 the police officer comes into my room with my Forever Parents.
I hiss.
My Forever Mom puts her hand up like she is going to touch my arm.
I snarl.
I am one of the Maine coons now. All my fur is up. If anyone touches me—
“Ginny,” my Forever Mom says, “the police officer isn’t going to hurt you. He’s here to help.”
Police officers are never here to help even though my Forever Mom doesn’t lie. If they were here to help they would bring me right to Gloria’s. The police officer talks and talks but I don’t listen. Then he says, “Do you understand?” And smiles.
His name is Officer Joel but his name doesn’t matter because all police officers are exactly the same.
The police officer says that if I see Gloria again I should tell my Forever Parents or a teacher immediately. Immediately means now, no matter what. He says that I need to stay here at the Blue House with my Forever Family because they are my family now. When I tell him that I need to see if my Baby Doll is okay he says that Gloria is not a safe person. He says it isn’t safe to go back to the apartment because she used to leave me alone too much and she hurt me. And all the strange men and the drugs. And didn’t I remember what happened to the cat? The police officer says the same thing could have happened to me. “We wouldn’t want something like that to happen to a little kid, would we?”
So I scream, “Then why won’t you let me go get my Baby Doll?”
He shakes his head and keeps talking. He talks about unsanitary conditions and abuse and the cat. Snowball. He is wrong about what happened to it but I am so upset that all I can do now is say the word wrong, wrong, wrong over and over in my brain and put my hands over my ears because he doesn’t understand. He knows only approximately what happened.
And I know exactly.
EXACTLY 10:05 IN THE MORNING, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH
I am in Patrice’s office. I didn’t go to school. Patrice’s office has three soft chairs in it. One has flowers all over it. She has a skinny black-and-white cat named Agamemnon who likes to make bread on your lap. Making bread is an expression because Agamemnon doesn’t know how to bake. It doesn’t hurt when Agamemnon makes bread because his claws were removed when he was little. He doesn’t remember the operation, Patrice says. But right now I don’t see Agamemnon. I look for him every time I come here because I really like cats. I want to get a cat but my Forever Parents won’t let me. They say it isn’t appropriate. Not appropriate means that something doesn’t belong. Even though I think it really does. Especially after Snowball.
Patrice is in the kitchen. “Ginny, do you want to help me put together a snack?” she says. I stop looking for Agamemnon and go to help her. Patrice says that food and drinks help people relax. Today’s snack is Hershey’s Kisses and milk. I pour a whole bag of them into a bowl and bring it out into the room with the chairs. Then I sit down and start eating.
“So what’s all this drama I’m hearing about?” says Patrice.
I don’t know what drama is so I say, “I don’t understand the question.” Patrice taught me that. I’m supposed to say I don’t understand when there’s something I want to know or when I don’t understand. Patrice says asking for help is part of self-advocating.
“Drama means a lot of feelings and loud actions,” says Patrice. “When someone says there was some drama, it means there were some crazy things going on.”
“I didn’t see any crazy things,” I say and put another Hershey’s Kiss in my mouth. And then I look up because it’s a rule that You should make eye contact when you talk with someone.
“I’m sorry,” says Patrice. “I shouldn’t put it that way. It’s not drama at all, really. It’s just that a lot is going on all at once. Can you tell me about what happened yesterday with Gloria? Your parents tell me she came to school.”
I crinkle the silver wrapper between my fingers into a ball. “That’s right,” I say. “Gloria came to my school. I saw her in the parking lot yesterday when I got off the bus. She had the Green Car.”
“When you first saw her, what did you think?”
“I wasn’t sure if it was her.”
“Why