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"Sprig?"
It was one of the rare quiet evenings where neither sibling had anything to do. Polly had just finished repairing the automatic watering cans she installed throughout the farm, and Sprig was quietly reading something in the basement.
A few years ago, he would probably be out exploring the continents with Ivy– but ever since Hop Pop died, he'd taken a break from adventure to stay on the farm with Polly.
"Yeah?" Sprig looked up from his book to see his little sister standing near the base of the stairs, her hands were tightly gripping the front of her overalls, and Sprig quickly recognized this as a sign that she was nervous.
"Can you… tell me a story? About Anne?"
Ah. That explained it. Polly hadn't asked Sprig to tell her a story since she was like… 12. Her pride probably stopped her from asking past that point- but really, she should know better! Sprig loves and will gladly accept any opportunity to talk about Anne. He's indirectly helped turn her into a legend all throughout Amphibia– even in the continents she never set foot on.
"Sure!" He didn't want to accidentally discourage her, though, so Sprig simply accepted and stood up, walking to the other side of the basement and sitting on the mattress. It was the spot they always used for Anne Storytime– the very same mattress Anne used to sleep on.
"The one about pizza, maybe… or the time we charged her phone? Or um… the one about hiber day?" Polly requested, descending the stairs to sit at her own spot on the other side of the bed.
"You sure? You were there for those, and I've already told them like... a million times!"
"I'm sure." Polly answered, a pout forming on her face.
"Well– alright." Sprig shrugged, "It's just weird, you know? You were there for them! Wouldn't you rather hear about something you weren't there for?"
"Sprig!" Polly huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Okay, okay!" He laughed, holding his hands up defensively, "But seriously, why not a story like–"
"I just want to hear it, okay!"
Unexpectedly, Polly snapped.
She'd always had a short temper, sure– but Sprig didn't think this was the sort of situation that would upset her. He was just joking around- but now he wondered if there was another reason for why Polly suddenly wanted to hear stories she already knew.
It wasn't some sort of anniversary so… what was up?
"Polly…?" Sprig softened his tone, looking at his little sister to see her head was bowed, small droplets of water falling onto her clenched fists. "You're crying?"
He didn't mean to call attention to it– but he hadn't seen Polly cry since Hop Pop's funeral two years ago. To see her like this so suddenly– it threw him for a loop. Especially when it seemed to be related to Anne– on a random tuesday a decade after last seeing her.
Polly shook her head, letting out nothing but quiet sniffles until Sprig launched forward to wrap his little sister into a tight hug. He felt Polly's hands find grip on the back of his shirt, and her sniffles grew into sobs.
"I miss her! I miss Anne!" Polly wailed, and Sprig felt his heart break. Polly loved her too. Why would she need it to be an anniversary special day to miss Anne? Sprig missed her everyday, and Polly had been so little– of course she'd have a hard time!
"I know, Polly." Sprig held her close to his chest, "I miss her too. But she's still out there, you know. I bet she thinks about you everyday."
Somehow, that had not been the right thing to say– because Polly's sobs intensified into wails, and the only words Sprig could make out were her attempts at establishing just how much she missed Anne. She was saying it so much– like a mantra– like… she was trying to convince herself.
It wasn't until several minutes later, when Polly calmed down enough to speak, that Sprig understood why.
"While I was working I was… thinking about the time that… Anne tried protecting our house by building a bunch of… contraptions." Polly mumbled. She had gone back to quiet sniffles, now, and let go of Sprig's shirt to rest her head on his chest instead. "I… realized that I don't actually… remember that day. I just remembered the story you told me. And then I tried… remembering something about her that… you couldn't have told me- but I can't! I tried so hard– but I can't remember at all! It's not fair! I love her, she's our sister! And I miss her so much but… I don't know how many of my memories of her are just… stories. I feel like… like I didn't really know her."
"Oh, Polly…"
"I know it's stupid." She mumbled, bringing her palm up to her eyes, letting it catch the last few stray tears. "You knew Anne better than anyone– and here I am… crying about how much I miss her when– I don't even remember her voice."
Hearing Polly talk like this broke his heart all over again– and the worst part? Sprig doesn't know how to help. He couldn't imagine forgetting Anne– but Polly was really just a baby. It's not her fault she had forgotten Anne– and even if she has– this is all proof of how much Polly loved her.
But Sprig doesn't know what it's like to forget someone you love. How can he help.....
Suddenly, seemingly out the blue– He remembered his mom. He remembered a balcony, and pillows, and he remembered the night sky back when they had a moon, and he remembered Anne.
"One time in Newtopia…"
This isn't a story he tells, because it's not action packed or even interesting– but it's still something he remembers clearly- because it was with Anne.
"I had a conversation similar to this one with Anne." More tears fell from Polly's eyes, but she nodded to show she was listening. Sprig got out his storytelling voice.
"It was nighttime, you and Hop Pop were asleep, and I saw Anne going out to the balcony by herself. Apparently, she'd been thinking about her mom."
"Since our mom died when we were little, I don't really remember her. So I asked Anne- what having a mom was like... and she told me all about it. I remember I started crying."
"Yeah… because you're a crybaby." Polly muttered, ignoring the hypocrisy.
"Hey!" Sprig laughed, "I'm emotionally eloquent!" He placed a hand on top of her head, and continued.
"Anyway, I told Anne that I felt silly for missing my mom, when I never actually knew her."
"Oh." Polly looked up. Now she understood where this story was going, but she wanted to hear the rest of it anyway. "What did Anne say?"
"She didn't say anything, actually. She just hugged me, and we stayed like that until I fell asleep."
Polly looked back down, her hands clasped together in front of her as she fiddled with her thumbs. "Thanks for telling me, Sprig."
"Well, you did ask for an Anne story! I delivered!"
Polly let out a small snort, pushing Sprig into the bed while she stood up, "Whatever, loser! Thanks for the blackmail– now I'm going to tell everyone you're a crybaby!" She pointed a finger in Sprig's direction, though Sprig could only laugh in response.
"Good luck with that! Everyone already knows!"
Polly stuck her tongue out and turned to leave. Knowing she needed time alone to recover from her brief moment of vulnerability, Sprig let her go.
"One more thing, Polly?" He called after her. She was already halfway up the stairs, though she did not stop or turn around, Sprig knew she could hear him.
"She'd be proud of you."