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A lone pearlescent troll rolls swiftly out of the clowns mouth down the tongue before making a safe deposit onto the green before the gaping maw. It pops up suddenly, landing on its feet when more trolls rush in from the sidelines and cheers and jokes can be heard where they offer pointers to their on-the-move friend. A few begin to part their ways, But the smallest one leaps up at the golfer to give it a congratulatory hug.
Clay watches the display in silence, save for a few frogs and the faint music coming from inside. Despite the distance between him and them, He suddenly feels like he’s intruding on a private moment and looks away, pawing at the book he has open on his lap. It’s open to the same page it has been on hours ago, his hand stiff in a permanent point. He’s reread the same paragraph over and over.
“Maybe Cherry stood still and watched the sun set while she was supposed to be taking the garbage out. Stood there and watched and forgot everything else until her big brother screamed at her to hurry up. I shook my head. It seemed funny to me that the sunset she saw from her patio and the one I saw from the back steps was the same one. Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren’t so different. We saw the same sunset.”
“Oh wow, Mr. Clay, hi. I looked everywhere for you, you weren’t in your usual spot, so I was like, ‘huh that’s weird’ heh.”
Clay jumps a little at Viva’s appearance, folding his elbow over the pages and his eyes move from the book out to the admin shack. It’s the one spot not completely adorned with golf lighting. It beckons him, but his stomach flips unwantedly at the thought.
“Yeah my bad,” he says nonchalantly, sliding a bookmark in and slamming the book shut. “I still gotta get the perimeter check in. I’ve been slacking.” He was about to launch himself off her porch when he felt her hair wrap around his midsection.
“Uh-uh! You’re not going anywhere, silly. Why don’t you come in for popcorn and candy. I’ll braid your hair if you tell me what’s going on with you. Ooh! And we could play some twister and maybe paint a little, I just got some new slates…”
Clay flushes, embarrassed at how obvious he was being that something was wrong. He didn’t want to bother the queen; he hadn’t been at the course for very long since he was named top admin. He had been proud really when it happened; hunkered right down and went straight to work in fear that a slow start would mess him up. One of the first orders he gave himself was to learn the putt-putt trolls names and a little bit about them. Like Bogey and Birdie were twins from a lost indie pop tribe. Or Caddie liked to play pranks on newbies in town. They were a wild bunch.
The same rule applied to the queen and he did follow it, maybe a bit too closely. He had a plethora of information documented on her. He needed it, of course. She was his queen. No other explanation.
He’s brought back to the present with Viva inches from his face, squeezing his cheeks in her hands.
“Ehhhh, Earth to Clay? Did you hear anything I just said?” She laughs, giving him a pitiful smile. “That is so like you. Come back to me, please.”
Clay blinks sadly at her, gently removing her hands from his face. His own hands tingle in the comfort of her grasp, but he drops them and looks away.
“I was just thinkin’ about some things. They’re not important; it has nothing to do with the course,” he says, apologizing. Viva smiles, taking his hand again and leading him to the couch.
“Honey, the golf course can wait. I want everyone to be happy here, remember? That’s numero uno.” She starts stringing candy loops and motions for him to go on. Clay tenses, fiddling with the fabric of his sweater.
“I am happy! I am! I just…” he sighs. He doesn’t want to disappoint her but he wants to be honest. “This just isn’t really what I thought my life would turn out to be. If you catch my drift.”
Viva doesn’t look the least bit surprised. “Well none of us did, silly. Considering we’re a ‘lost’ tribe.” Clay swears he sees a flash of sorrow across her face, but it’s gone just as quick as she runs out of room on the thread. She ties it off and strings it onto Clay’s wrist. “But I think I get it. You went from ‘fun boy’ to ‘flop shot’ in record time. That’s gotta be quite the whiplash.”
Viva hadn’t heard of Brozone, the putt putt trolls having been completely isolated. But as she got to know Clay more, she started putting the pieces together. He talked a lot about a group that was supposedly dead to him.
Viva sits back on the couch and Clay flops down onto the cushions beside her. He pouts with his arms crossed over his chest while Viva gets started on his hair.
“It’s not like I miss it,” he clarifies. “It was such a drag, man. People always telling me what to do. And I was the fun one! Do you know how hard it is trying to be fun when you gotta follow so many stupid rules?!”
Viva’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “I’d imagine so very hard, but uhm, Clay…” she tries, his name without the title sounding foreign on her tongue. “Not that you aren’t a total fun boy now, you do know that there weren’t any admin rules before you showed up here right? That was all you, boo.”
Clay is about to fire back, but he remembers just as quickly that it had been him that set up all the safety measures and kept track of their finances. The only thing that had been intact when he arrived was the perimeter check, which now fell on him too. He leans into her touch. “Oh man.”
Viva giggles, tying off a braid and starting on another one. “Oh honey I’m sorry but you really are the most fun troll I know! Tax slips, safety nets and all! And even with your hang ups from the past.” Her voice gets quieter, her fingers staying tender. “And I want you to know that it is greatly appreciated. I’ve never felt safer.”
Clay feels a warmth in his chest he had not felt since he was small. Staying with the putt putt trolls gave him some kind of purpose he felt he didn’t have to reach too far for. It was pure bliss with Viva at his side. And hearing that she might’ve felt the same way made his stomach do flips. It would take a lot to reverse the effects from his childhood, but he was looking forward to it if Viva was there. He wants to thank her, but it feels like he can't do so properly without tearing down some walls. He sifts through his thoughts, trying to find a piece of relevant information. She had done so much for him; given him safe haven and a listening ear. He wants to do something. Anything.
Clay sighs and reaches for some candy loops. “I know you don’t play with that hug time stuff, but do you ever just feel like… a phantom ping? Like… somebody somewhere is sitting in the same position you are, and their bracelet just lights up, but they can’t act on it cause the one troll they would hug…isn’t there?”
Viva bites her lip, looking up at the sky. Clay doesn’t miss the way she rubs absently at her wrist. “Everyone I’ve ever loved is either here or…” the breath seems to leave her all at once. Viva steels herself; grabs another one of Clay’s locks. “It doesn’t matter. They’re gone, and if they’re not, they can come find us. That’s why we have to stay here. It’s better this way. You understand.”
Clay nods, continuing his red, purple, blue, green then yellow pattern he has going. A few minutes of awkward silence go on before he speaks up again.
“We’ve got some pretty dope sunsets here. And sunrises. I always thought it was funny when trolls would say that. We only got one Sun. Isn’t everybody’s the same?”
Viva shrugs, but she looks toward the horizon. The sun is dipping real low, the sky turning purple. “We probably have the best one,” she whispers. Clay doesn’t doubt it, the way the dusk envelops her in a warm glow. Like right out of a movie.
Clay clears his throat. “What I mean is, no matter where you stand on this planet, whenever you see the Sun, it’s the same one you’ve seen yesterday and the same you’ll see tomorrow. And…and it’s the same one someone else is looking at somewhere. Nature’s timer.”
He’s tied the bracelet he’s made off, rubbing a thumb over the colors gently. He pushes himself up and leans toward Viva, sliding it onto her wrist. She admires his handiwork for only a second, entranced by his words.
“Maybe the sunset is a goodnight hug from them. Ever present, ever consistent.” He raises his bracelet to his lips, looking at Viva. “It’s not a hug time bracelet exactly…but we can do our own thing.”
Night falls, snuffing out the last of the sun's rays just as Clay bites into one of the candy loops. Viva does the same, crunching back a baby pink color. It’s sweet and chewy and reminds her of home.
A few tears bubble up to the surface for both of them before Viva launches herself at Clay, wrapping him in a hug.
“Aw look what you did,” she jokes, her voice cracking at the end. “You know, you really have a way with words Mr. Clay.”
Clay blushes for the hundredth time that night. “I just read a lot. Maybe too much actually.” Viva relaxes her hold but stays wrapped around him. He finds himself snuggling into her, his loneliness out on the porch long forgotten. He can’t help but smile. Viva nuzzles his head.
“I think you’re perfect.”
Whether they manage to stay awake for the sunrise, to greet their long lost brothers and sister, is their business.