She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. Getting pregnant in high school ended that dream for her. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. He talked at the blackboard in a pleasant, very slightly lisping voice with a curious spontaneity, and was sometimes very clumsy in his exposition, and sometimes very vivid. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. . I have slept with it under my pillow. He thanked God for this talent of his. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines.
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