-O-
Taming Branch
By Dreamsinger
Chapter 10
A Good Connection
"Guess what, Dad? Branch and I finally hugged!" Poppy exclaimed the minute she walked into her father's pod.
"You did? Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you!"
Poppy joyfully related the events of her day to her father."And yeah, while it turned out that Branch isn't quite ready for hugs yet, he did agree to work with me on it. Even better, he finally admitted that he's been scared of hugs this whole time. Admitting you have a problem is half the battle. Now we can make some real progress."
Her dad hugged her and celebrated her success right along with her.When the pink troll went back home to her pod, her dreams were sweet.
-O-
But another troll's dreams were far from sweet.
As Branch tended to his evening chores, he tried to ignore the low-level unease in the back of his mind. The stresses of the day had made him tired, and he fell asleep quickly that night. Four hours later, he tossed restlessly, his sleep plagued by nameless fears. He was sliding, falling, plummeting into the unknown. A huge mouth with jagged teeth opened in front of him and he plunged inside.
His terrified scream woke him. He kicked off the blankets and was up and across the room before he caught himself, a hair's length away from triggering one of his traps. He stood there, shaking and soaked with sweat as he glared around his darkened bedroom with wild eyes.
There was no one there. No bergens. No danger. No threats of any kind.
Or were there?
It was just a bad dream, he told himself. But with his heart still pounding, it was hard to convince himself of that. He didn't feel like going straight back to bed, so he decided to go to the bathroom. He also splashed some cold water on his face while he was there.
By the time he got back to his bedroom, Branch was wide awake. As he settled himself in bed for the second time that night, he tried to make sense of the overwhelming feeling of foreboding flooding his brain and body. He knew if he didn't calm down, he'd be awake the rest of the night.
He tried some deep breathing, and that helped, but he couldn't do that forever. Every time he started to drift off, his mind would go roaming. His body would grow tense, his heart would start palpitating, and he'd find himself endlessly replaying every piece the day's interaction. Every high and low. Every painful misstep.
This afternoon had been…confusing. Parts of it had been good. He'd fulfilled his duty and successfully given Poppy the hug she needed. He'd been proud of himself, and Poppy had been happy. Very happy. She'd told him so.
She'd been so cute, shyly asking him if he liked her hug, and the vest she'd redesigned. He glanced at his leaf-vest, hanging back in its proper place on the wall, and a small, fond smile crossed his face. It was his favorite piece of clothing, and he was glad to have it back, better than ever. He liked it because it helped camouflage him from bergens and other dangerous predators, and it looked good on him, too. But most of all, he liked it because Poppy, his friend, had made it just for him. She'd wanted to make him happy. And he was, in a way. Looking at that vest made him happier than he could remember being in…forever, really.
Other parts of the afternoon had been…not so good. Awkward, embarrassing. Frustrating. She'd wanted to hug him a second time, and he hadn't had the time to mentally prepare, so he'd kind of reverted to old habits. Then she'd made him talk about his feelings, for troll's sake!
Why did I tell Poppy all that stuff? Why did I tell her that I'm afraid of hugs? I'm not…am I? What kind of troll is afraid of hugs?
It sounded crazy. But if it were true, it might explain why he'd always instinctively detested hugs. It was natural to dislike the things you were afraid of, wasn't it?
His face twisted in distress. Oh, why couldn't Poppy have just asked me to brush her hair? I thought she was going to, a couple of times. That's what I was expecting - that's what her scrapbook shows us doing together. He thought about the book, and how happy the two of them had seemed. Happy enough to make him curious, and a little wistful. But when I mentioned hair, she didn't say anything about brushing it. The gray troll sighed unhappily. I wish I knew what she wanted from me.
He heard her sincere little voice again. "'I need to see you every day. When I don't, it's like something is wrong with my world.'"
Every day? Really?
Every time Poppy said something like that, he didn't know what to think. Was that how she talked to every troll? Maybe. Probably. So then why can't I shake the feeling that her interest in me is different somehow? He recalled something odd she'd said earlier, something about a foxfluff. Is it because she's fooled herself into thinking I'm some helpless little critter in need?
It was a ridiculous notion. And yet, maybe… Uneasiness filled his belly. Is that what I look like to her? This isn't the first time Poppy's said she thought I wasn't healthy. What kind of troll reminds Poppy so much of a forest critter that she'd ask the village critternarian for advice?
He lay there for a moment, breathing hard. The anxiety gripping his insides became so uncomfortable that he instinctively retreated from the idea, not allowing himself to think that she might be right. "Seriously, a critternarian?" he scoffed aloud. "Please. What does he know? The guy's probably put all kinds of crazy ideas into her head. And…my stomach just feels bad because I've been eating too many of Poppy's rich desserts. I'm fine." He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his legs. "I'm perfectly fine."
His rigid fetal position, unsettled belly, and palpitating heart said otherwise.
Long minutes later, after another failed attempt to use deep breathing to control himself, he rolled onto his back. As he stared up into the dark recess above him, he groaned dramatically, "Maaan, I'm so tiiired. I need sleep." He dragged his hands down over his face. "Why is this happening to me? I made up with her, didn't I? I said I was sorry. I even said I'd work with her on all that touchy-feely stuff, since for some reason she still thinks she can make me like hugs."
He made a scornful pssh sound, one side of his mouth curving up in a smirk. "Lots of luck with that."
Feeling a little better, part of him began to wonder why he was making such a fuss over something he'd successfully if disgustedly endured for years back in the village. I said I wanted to be friends with her, and I meant it. Friends hug one another. So what's my problem? Why do I feel like I've gotten in over my hair?
Is it because it's Poppy? Because we used to be friends when we were little? I remember how she kept trying to drag me into doing stuff with other trolls, and that worked out soo well. Not.
"That's probably it. Maybe it was a mistake to get involved with her again,"he said aloud, half experimentally. He waited, but Poppy wasn't there to reassure him that of course their friendship wasn't a mistake. He was on his own, as he always had been. That put him in a foul mood again.
"Knew I shouldn't have hugged her. Look where it's gotten me," he muttered sulkily to no one. "And the worst part is, I can't take it back. She's gonna come over tomorrow and expect me to – what? I don't know." His voice began to rise, a plaintive note of distress creeping in. "Everything's out of control. I don't know what's gonna happen next! What if I can't learn to like hugs? What if all I do is disappoint her? What if…"
His voice broke, and his eyes stung. Tears began to trickle annoyingly down his face. He swiped angrily at them. "This is all her fault. Look what you've done to me, Poppy! I'm losing valuable sleep because of you. Can't you let a troll rest in peace?"
He lay for a while longer, thinking angry thoughts, which felt so much safer than the scary thoughts from earlier. Finally he got up and went to grab his weighted blanket off the couch. With its familiar, comforting mass on top of him, he was finally able to drop into a fitful sleep.
-O-
"Good morning, Poppy," Milton greeted her cheerfully. "How did things go with your little friend yesterday?"
"Oh my gosh, so much happened!" She raised her hands in front of her. "Get ready for the best news!"
Milton caught her excitement, gasping loudly and slapping his hands to his cheeks. "Can it be?"
"For the first time ever, I finally got to hug him!"
"Oh, Poppy, how wonderful!" Milton beamed at her and Poppy threw her arms around the critternarian and squeezed him tight. "I would never have gotten this far without you, Milton! Thank you so much!"
"I'm so proud of you for hanging in there, Poppy," Milton praised her happily, warmly returning her hug. "I know it's been hard for you, but look at what you've accomplished, getting him to like hugging you. He must be so happy now."
Her elation waned, and she let go of the orchid troll and stepped back, twisting one hand around the other. "Um… Well…"
Milton was quick to pick up on her cues. "What is it, Poppy?"
"Well, he still doesn't really like hugs, Milton. He's willing to go along with them because he knows they make me happy, but he doesn't enjoy them." She looked down. "And I was so sure he would."
"Oh, Poppy." Milton put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
She gazed at the ground for a minute, then looked up plaintively at the kindly orchid troll. "Hugs really scare him, Milton. I suspected he was afraid of them, but now I know for sure." She spread her hands to show her bewilderment. "There's something about hugs that really, really disturbs him, emotionally, but I don't know why." She waited to hear what her friend thought about this strange turn of events.
Milton scratched his honey-colored hair. "Fear is the result of feeling threatened, right?"
Poppy nodded.
"It's a natural reaction after having been hurt, even if we don't know the cause. Many of my critters start out like that. They don't want to be touched at first, but over time they find it very reassuring. It's one of the main ways I earn their trust. I pet them, brush their fur, and give them massages. And of course, I hug and cuddle them, when they're ready. It really helps, Poppy, in so many ways. Love and affection heal all sorts of wounds we can't see. So don't give up, Poppy."
Wounds we can't see… Poppy pictured Branch, gazing at her in that uncertain way of his, as if he wanted to be closer to her but didn't know how. His eyes were so deep, like two pools whose beautiful azure depths held some nameless deep pain holding him back, pain she ached to relieve. She didn't know why that pain was there, but it was real. "I know," she agreed softly. "And that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to love him, a little at a time, until his fear goes away and he's ready for a great big warm hug - like this one."
She wrapped her arms around her friend again and he hugged her back. "You're doing the right thing, Poppy. I'm rooting for you."
-O-
That afternoon as she entered the meadow, Poppy stopped short to stare at Branch. He was wearing the newly redesigned leaf-vest, paired with his old brown shorts. But his usually neat hair was frazzled, he was scowling, and he had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.
"Branch, are you all right?"
Just then her Hug Time watch went ting; its luminous pink flower glowing on her wrist. Automatically Poppy glanced at Branch's flowerless wrist, still expecting even after all this time to hear a corresponding chime, but she was left hanging. It was like saying 'hi' and never getting a greeting in return. She'd offered to bring him a watch of his own a while back, but he'd wrinkled his nose and emphatically refused.
She'd gotten him one anyway. It was in her hair right now, waiting for the perfect chance to present it to him - the minute he might actually accept it. Unfortunately, now that she knew more about why he didn't want hugs, that time seemed like a long way off.
The gray troll gave the watch a sour look. "So I'm not hugging you today, right?"
"No, we were just-"
"Whatever. Let's just get this over with."
Surprised by his curtness, she didn't approach him. She'd been looking forward to seeing him, but he obviously didn't feel the same way. Had something happened?
"What do you want me to do?" he said impatiently. "Come on, before I change my mind."
"Branch, wait. Talk to me."
"I don't feel like talking. Are we holding hair again today, or what?"
She studied him, trying to assess his mental state. "Are you all right?" she asked again.
"I'm fine," he said flatly. "I just didn't sleep well last night."
"Why? Did something happen?"
"What's with the interrogation? I said I'd do what you wanted, didn't I?" he snapped. "Why can't you ever be satisfied? Why do you always have to keep pushing?"
Poppy was baffled, and indignant. What was up with his attitude? She hadn't done anything to deserve being spoken to like this. "Branch, I'm just worried about you."
"Well, don't be. I told you, I'm fine."
She put a hand on her hip, staring at him with narrowed eyes. Yesterday, he'd made the first move. He'd hugged her. He'd let her in. Why did it feel like he wanted to shut her out now?
-O-
Milton had warned her about this. Sometimes a critter regressed for no apparent reason, and then the slow work of rebuilding the connection had to start all over again. That had sounded awful to Poppy, and Milton had agreed. But then, as a true troll did, the critternarian had pointed out the bright side. "Progress can be slow sometimes, or even go in reverse, but other times your critter can make a lot of progress very quickly. In a single afternoon, or even an hour. Progress often seems to come in short bursts, when it comes. But it does come."
-O-
Poppy took a deep breath and let it out slowly to rein in her temper, then tried again. "Branch, I don't understand. Yesterday was a good day. We made real progress, and now you want to take it all back?" She gave him a hurt look, her lower lip all pouty and her eyes big and soulful.
Finally he seemed to realize the antagonism he was projecting. "Sorry, Poppy, I don't mean to yell. It's just that I… It's just…"
Despite his sour attitude, he really didn't seem like he wanted to fight. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, just to be sure. "Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I'm sorry."
It took him a moment to respond. "It's nothing you did," he muttered, his eyes on the ground. "Not exactly."
"'Not exactly'?" she repeated, caught between confusion and exasperation. Now what the hair is that supposed to mean? What strange notion has he come up with now? Why does he always look for something to be afraid of? Why can't he just accept the good things in life that come his way without fear and suspicion?
It was beyond her comprehension. It was the way of the trolls to see the good in everything. Even things that seemed bad at first often had silver linings, or could be fixed to be good. Things that were truly, unfixably bad were few and far between.
Branch glanced up and caught the baffled frown on her face before she could smooth it away. Regret lined his own face. "Never mind. It's not important." He managed to sound both sulky and miserable as he added, "You wouldn't understand, anyway."
"I would if you'd just tell me," she insisted, her voice rising sharply.
Immediately Branch turned to face away from her and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, his ears pressed down and back against his head. He'd shut down.
A slight whimper escaped her lips, her heart twinging with dismay and guilt. She'd done it again – she'd "pushed" him too far. The sight of her poor little foxfluff hugging himself was almost more than Poppy could bear. Whatever was bothering him, it was enough to make him actually crave the comfort of a hug! Longingly she reached out a hand toward him, but stopped at the last second, her hand hovering near his back. Her fingers ached to touch him. If only he'd let her comfort him! If only she knew what was wrong. Why wouldn't he tell her?
Unconsciously mirroring him, she crossed her own arms. Come on, Poppy, think. Unlike Milton's critters, Branch can talk. What can you say to him that will help unlock his heart? She moved to brace one hand with her other elbow so she could press her knuckles thoughtfully to her lips. This would be so much easier if I could sing to him, but I guess I'll just have to play it by ear.
"I'm sorry you feel bad, Branch," she said softly. She walked around in front of her hurting friend and dropped down to sit on the grass in front of him, wrapping her arms around her knees. He glanced down at her and then looked away, his eyes so sad she wanted to gather him into her arms and cuddle away his bad feelings. He needs a hug so much. He must feel it. Why would he deny himself the comfort? He said he's not afraid of me, so – why? Why, Branch?
Well, she'd never find out if she didn't get him talking. Maybe it would help to lighten the mood a little. "Are you suure you don't want to tell me what's bothering you? Cuz I'm an awwfully good listener…" she said persuasively. As he met her gaze she smiled engagingly up at him, and then winked.
The ice wall she often saw in his eyes began to thaw. "Well…"
"You can tell me anything, Branch. Seriously. I won't judge you. I just want to understand you," she said softly. "I really do. Please tell me what you're feeling."
"I… I don't know, Poppy." He sounded just as confused as she felt. "Like you said, yesterday we had a good day. I don't understand what's wrong with me."
Oh, Branch. Maybe I need to protect you from judging yourself.
"Branch, there's nothing wrong with you," she said gently. "But something's obviously bothering you. Let's see if we can figure it out together, okay?" She gave him a hopeful smile, and was glad to see him smile back a little.
His ears relaxed back to their normal position and he let his arms drop to his sides. "Okay."
"Let's start with something basic.Are you feeling afraid?" she suggested. "Angry? Overwhelmed?"
"I don't know," he repeated. "I shouldn't be."
"Don't worry about what you think you'should' be feeling, Branch," she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. "What's going on in your mind right now?"
Her steady manner seemed to calm him, as his reply carried a hint of his usual wryness. "My mind's a jumbled mess."
She grinned at this bit of humor, and he did too, just a quick flash, before it was gone. Then he drew in a deep, slightly shaky breath, and let it out slowly. "Everything's…changing. I'm changing. And it scares me, Poppy. My - my life was so calm and simple before you came. I woke up, got my day's work done, took a bath, had a nice supper, and went to bed. I didn't even have bad dreams; not for the last few years, anyway. Now I have them every night." Above them, the sun went behind a cloud, leaving Branch's silhouette above her shrouded in shadows.
"Every night?" she said in dismay.
He nodded miserably.
"I'm – I'm sorry about that. I didn't know." What else could she do to help him feel better? "Do you want to talk about your dreams?"
He shook his head.
She took a moment to mull over what he'd told her. There was something she needed to say. "Your life was calm, but was it happy? How many times a day did you smile?"
He stared at her a moment, then looked down and away.
"How many times a day did you laugh?"
He didn't answer, but he didn't have to. They both knew the answer.
"You like to smile and laugh, don't you, Branch?"
After a long pause, he swallowed and said quietly, "Yes. But…"
"But…?"
"You… With you, I feel happiness, yes. But also anger, and pain, and…sadness. It hurts, Poppy. It hurts so much! You make me hurt!"
She couldn't speak.
"You make me remember. And you make me… When you leave, you make me feel bad, feel…"
"Lonely?"
"Yes." He nodded sadly. "I wasn't lonely before you came. I wasn't anything. I just…was. I lived. I worked, and ate, and slept. Sometimes I made new plans and built new things, or investigated something interesting or unusual, but I didn't do…feelings. I didn't need them."
"And now you do. Because of me, you feel again." She took a shaky breath of her own, trying to wrap her mind around how terribly vulnerable he must feel. His feelings had been kept safe inside him for almost a decade. Meeting her had weakened the wall that guarded them, and now it was cracking into shards that cut deeply.
She knew that everything Branch did, he did to protect himself. And now, to protect her. He'd come to care about her, because she'd insisted on pushing her way into his life. He came out of his shell to be with me. We have fun for an hour or two, but then I go off and leave him behind. Of course he's lonely! Of course he'd feel scared and vulnerable and have bad dreams. But unlike everyone else I know, Branch has no one else to talk to, no one to comfort him. What have I done, Dad?
Branch went on, "I thought making up with you would make me feel better, and it does, but now I can't stop it. I'm stuck with these - these…feelings. And it's making me crazy!" Frustrated fists thrust downward as he stomped a foot.
The crack of his voice seemed to echo, rebounding inside her head. She stared up at him in shock. "I'm sorry, Branch."
His eyes widened as he heard the tremble in her voice. As his concern shifted to her, he seemed to calm down. He ran a hand through his messy hair and said, "I'm sorry, too. I don't mean to dump all this on you, Poppy. You don't deserve it. Like I said, you didn't do anything wrong." He sighed tiredly. "The thing is, when I'm with you, it's like it's okay to have feelings. But the rest of the time they just mess me up. They make it hard to get stuff done. So I can't help but feel frustrated."
Guilt crushed her. She wasn't helping him. She was ruining his life.
Poppy slumped, staring down at her knees. There was only one thing she could do. "Do you want me to leave you alone, Branch?" she said in a tiny voice. It broke her heart to say it, but if it would help him, she would stop.
"No."
Surprised at his immediate response, she gazed up at him, her mouth open. Just then the sun burst forth from the clouds, bathing him in brilliant light. His skin seemed to lighten, a soft blue-green hue shining through the gray. His translucent ears glowed even brighter; a beautiful light aqua. Her friend smiled down at her, then held out his hand as he said warmly, "I made my choice, Poppy. If this is the price of being your friend, then I'll just have to deal with it. Because I want to be with you."
Her heart melted. "Awww, Branch." She gave him a loving smile, and placed her hand in his. As he drew her gently to her feet, her voice was husky with emotion as she told him, "I want to be with you, too. Because you are very special to me."
Wanting to connect with him, she reached for his other hand. The young trolls stood still for a moment, gazing wonderingly at one another before Poppy glanced down at their hands. Pink and muted aqua, snuggled together like two mini-hugs. "Does this kind of touching bother you?" she asked sensitively.
His thoughtful gaze flicked from her to their hands once again. "No," he said softly.
As a slow smile spread across her face, she saw a matching one grow on his. His eyes were so warm now, a bright summer-sky blue without a trace of ice. So beautiful…
She had no idea how long they stood there gazing into each other's eyes until a big falling leaf passed between their faces and the spell was broken. His enhanced colors muted back to normal as they let go and stepped apart, each troll feeling a little out of their depth at the intensity of feeling that had just passed between them.
Branch looked away, letting out a wordless sound that managed to convey both surprise and awkwardness. Poppy swung her hands in an effort to act casual, feeling the breeze cool the warm parts where his hands had touched. Neither troll spoke, until finally Poppy cleared her throat and suggested the first activity that came to mind. "So, um… Jigsaw puzzle?"
-O-
Branch had brought several puzzles today; well-prepared as usual. Poppy picked the biggest, most complicated one; the one that would take the longest to finish. When her Hug Time watch went off an hour later Branch looked at her, but she pretended not to hear it. Instead she began to talk, telling him a story about DJ's subwoofer bug, and he settled back down to work beside her. She spent the next hour determinedly acting cheerful, but from the looks he kept giving her, he knew something was up.
When her watch went off the next time, she tried to ignore it again, but Branch broke the silence. "Looks like it's that time again, huh?"
"I guess," she said, but she made no move to get up.
He waited a minute, then asked, "Don't you have to leave now?"
"Yeah, in a few," she said casually.
He waited another minute, but the same sense of responsibility that made him such a hard worker finally made him stand up and say, "You'd better get going, Poppy. I'll clean up here."
"But we're not done yet."
He scooped up the handful of remaining pieces and rapidly snapped them into place. "There, done. Now stop stalling."
"But, Branch…" Reluctantly she got to her feet and admitted honestly, "I don't want to go off and leave you here all alone."
"I know. And thank you for that," he said quietly. "But you know you can't stay here. You have to go home sometime. Besides, they'll all worry about you. They'll think something's happened to you, and come searching. You said the trolls don't know this part of the forest. They could get into trouble, or even get eaten by something."
Still she hesitated. "I could send a messenger bug to let them know I'm okay."
Instead of looking happy with that answer, he seemed troubled. "But you're the princess. You've got duties to attend to. Who would do them if you didn't go home?"
She wilted, knowing he was right. "Well, then you could come with me," she blurted out desperately, but he was already shaking his head. Branch had made some progress, but he was nowhere near ready to throw himself in the deep end of the social pool, and she knew it.
So did he. "No. I can't," he said with quiet firmness. "There's nothing for me in the village." He nodded in her direction. "Except for you."
"You could stay out of sight in my pod…"
"Like a prisoner?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it. What was there to say? He was right. Having him there might make her feel better, but he'd be miserable. Just as missing him and imagining him lonely and scared out here without her would make her miserable...
She tried to shake off the thought. She had to think of his needs, not her own. She was the one that started all this. "You're right, Branch. I'm sure you'll be fine. And I'll be back tomorrow. I'll come early."
She gave him a bright, fake smile, and he saw right through it. For once, he was the one reassuring her, as he said almost jokingly, "Come on, Poppy. My home is out here. Being in that village would drive me crazy. I wouldn't last past the first Hug Time, and we both know it."
A corner of her mouth went up. "Yeah, I know." She sighed. "I just wish I could do something to make you less lonely." The pink troll thought about some of the more sensitive trolls in the village, and the ways they coped. Biggie and his pet glowworm Mister Dinkles came to mind. "I know; have you ever thought of getting a pet? They're great for-"
"No! No pets. Not. Again." He spoke with such sharp finality that she immediately dropped the subject. Knowing Branch, it must've been a disaster.
Seeing her discomfort, he seemed to search for an idea to appease her worry.
"Listen, Poppy… How about we try a high-five today?"
He's offering to touch me again? She couldn't help but perk up at that. Then she gave him a sidewise glance, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't "do" high-fives?"
"Yeah, well…" He spread his hands out, then dropped them to slap against his legs. "Come on, Poppy. I'm trying here."
"I know. I'm just messing with you," she said cheerfully.
She held up a hand, and he matched the gesture. She swung, and he swung – right by each other. Chagrin crossed his face.
Poppy shrugged. "No biggie. Try again."
They did. This time their hands brushed each other's wrists, but slipped off without the satisfying smack Poppy was looking for. The third and fourth tries were similar. The fifth time was even worse, as their hands whooshing by inches from one another's.
Undaunted, Poppy readied her hand again, but Branch dropped his. "Poppy. Poppy. Poppy, stop. It's no good."
She stared at him, honestly baffled. Branch was at least as athletic as any troll in the village, if not more so. There was no way he wasn't coordinated enough to handle a simple move like this. "Huh. We can't seem to make a good connection. I wonder why?"
Branch looked down, and the tips of his ears dipped a little, showing his discouragement.
She bit her lip, not wanting to end her visit on a low note, then deliberately threw some positive energy into her tone. "Come on, Branchifer. You can do this!"
He made a reluctant sound and looked up at her. In his eyes she read disappointment and defeat, which only strengthened her resolve. Poppy lifted her hand in the air, palm toward him, and held it there. "Go as slow as you like, but I'm not leaving until our hands make contact," she said firmly.
He rolled his eyes, but she was sure she saw a grateful smile cross his lips. "Come on…" she said invitingly. "I'll bring you some of those yummy snickerdoodles you like."
He let out a quick huff of a sigh. "Okay, fine."
Branch slowly approached her. He licked his lips nervously, wiped his hand on his leg, and reached slowly toward her. He paused right before their hands would have touched. Before he could lose his nerve, Poppy quickly patted her palm against his. "High five!" she chirped. "There now; that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Mild surprise gave way to a brief chuckle. Taking advantage of his good humor, Poppy winked at him. His smile widened. "Okay, Poppy, that's enough," he said indulgently. "You got your high-five, and it's getting late. Go on, your dad's waiting for you."
"Okay," she said obligingly, and skipped happily toward the forest. At the treeline, she turned to wave. "Bye, Branch! See you tomorrow!"
He waved back, still smiling broadly. "See you tomorrow, Poppifer."
Poppifer. All the way home Poppy kept replaying Branch's last words in her head. For the first time ever, he called me by a nickname.
There was acceptance in his words, and friendship. But more than that, the young princess had been captivated by his voice, so warm and affectionate he'd sounded like a completely different troll.
But not an unfamiliar one. This was Branch. The real Branch. The troll behind the ice wall; the troll who cared about her as much as she already cared for him. The Branch who, once upon a time, had been her friend.
Poppy wanted to hear that voice again. Despite living in a village full of trolls who loved her, there was something utterly irresistible about hearing someone speak to her in a way that was meant only for her, and her alone.
Author's Note:
Yes, his colors came back, briefly. Making a positive choice in one's life often has the immediate effect of making you feel better; have you ever noticed that?
I wanted to show here that Branch needs a friend like Poppy to help him process things aloud when he's upset, instead of endlessly ruminating in his mind but never getting anywhere. That's what friends, or therapy, is good for. Writing things down in a journal helps, too.
Poppy's getting better at respecting his boundaries when she crosses them, too. She was even ready to stop contacting him altogether if that was what he needed. Paradoxically, showing respect for his boundaries made him trust her more.
In choosing to confide in Poppy, Branch has made the first step toward addressing his many issues: fear of intimacy, fear of commitment, fear of rejection. Fear that he's actually crazy. Fear of being alone, now that Poppy's shown him how lonely he really was before she came into his life. The one thing he's not very afraid of is that Poppy will lose interest in him. He fears the bond between them, but he knows that it's real. Instead, he fears the unknown. He's never had a close relationship with anyone, not since his grandma was killed, so long ago it seems like a dream; a fantasy life.
The nightmare he had was basically him plunging right into that unknown, with no turning back. Naturally he's scared. Anybody would be, really. Branch's feeling of foreboding is natural at the start of a relationship. "Am I making a mistake?" "Am I getting in too deep?" "Should I trust this person not to hurt me?"
It's not even about Poppy's behavior at this point; it's his own internal attitudes that he needs to overcome. The only way to do that is to interact with her, and make deliberate choices to be vulnerable with her. He understands this on some level, but it really scares the heck out of him.