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Today the only thing Denise could think about was dinner time so she didn’t do any work at all. She chewed the top of her pencil until only a stump remained and she sucked on her rubber until it melted into a tiny crumb that she swallowed. ‘Oh my. Bring on my dinner, ok?’ she said to me with her cartoon voice, but I pretended not to hear because even though I loved her I didn’t like all her voices. At dinner I sat next to her because nobody else wanted to. She didn’t care because she was thinking about pudding and maybe sweets after school. ‘Swizzels,’ she kept saying till the words were just sherbet and sugar. After school we went to the sweet shop together. We held hands. Her hands were hot which was nice because the day was cold and I didn’t bring my gloves. She bought 6d worth of sweets and gave me half. She is very kind but now her hands are hot and sticky and she is using her ventriloquist voice of the little boy at school. It sounds a bit like me only this one is weak and scared. We walk halfway to my house which is halfway to her house then we say goodbye. We kiss privately. Her lips are stickier than her hands but then mine are too.
*
Denise was very sporty today. Not in a team or anything, but in the playground I could hear her giving orders like a soldier. ‘Pass it’ and ‘to me’ she said and then looked across at me to see if I was watching. I was of course. I watch her most of the time, more than she watches me. I know this because even if I am not looking at her because of the wormhole I can see through the back of my brain so I know when she is watching me even if she doesn’t. When she is sporty she watches the ball not me, but I imagine that it’s my head that she is catching and throwing, that I am flying through the air into her hands. This makes me feel quite dizzy and sometimes I have to sit down in the playground and the teacher asks if I am alright. I don’t want to tell her the truth because I don’t think boys are allowed to love girls because of the baby issue but that’s not true so I say I am tired from all the work I have been doing and that seems to wash. When Denise finishes being sporty she goes back to her average voice and I can hear her talking to her friends about average things. I stop feeling dizzy from the flying head but I am still dizzy from her.
*
Denise is magic. Not the sort of magic that isn’t real, like sawing people in half, but the sort that used to exist but doesn’t anymore. I told her she was a witch and she agreed and did her witch voice. She can also do fairies and goblins and wizards but witches have the power to make me dream about her and think about her all the time. I believe her because yesterday I could not eat my beans on toast because when I thought about her I felt sick. Not bad sick, but Mother asked if I was ill and I said yes even though it wasn’t true. I don’t like lying to Mother because she is delicate and if she found out it might make her sad. So I will make sure she never knows about Denise.
In class Denise passed me a note that had a drawing on it. It was me and her because
I had big ears and she had long brown hair to the floor. We were floating off the ground and below us was the school and the teachers and the playground and around us were stars and planets and spaceships. I had been to this place when I went through the wormhole. I found this very surprising because I had never told her about the wormhole although I wanted to do so.
*
Denise is out walking when she comes upon a tortoise. The tortoise is very slow but Denise is very kind and she slows down so that they can walk together. This means it takes her a long while to only go a little way and she would like to get to the donkey before it is dark. So she picks up the tortoise and puts it in the bag of carrots she is taking to the donkey. On the way she sees other people from school out for a walk with their mums and dads. She does her best voice so well that when they carry on she hears them say, ‘What a nice girl’, ‘You should be friends with her’, but she knows she only has one friend and that’s me. When she gets to the donkey she finds that the tortoise has eaten all the carrots so she has nothing to give it. For a moment the donkey looks sad but then Denise has an idea and puts the tortoise in the donkey’s field. Now the donkey has a friend and provided he doesn’t tread on it they can share their life and their future carrots. As she leaves she hears the tortoise say to the donkey, ‘What a lovely girl. The person who marries her will be very lucky.’
*
Denise will grow up. Her hair will get longer and longer. Her face will get more and more curved like a spoon, her voice will get deeper and I will still think about her every day. Just like my coin collection I want her to be there for ever. I don’t want a new one or a better one; that would be terrible because I know that good things, well-made things, can’t be made better. Even if they get dirty or break you can always clean them or fix them. Denise is like the very best clock: she goes on forever, running properly, just needing little adjustments and some attention. Without attention, well, that spells trouble; but she can rely on me to keep her running by thinking and writing even after the wormhole has opened and I have passed through and come out newer and older. She will be there just the same.