The Two Daves

Once, in a deep dark forest, there lived a troll named Dave. He lived all alone because everyone knew trolls would eat you. 

No one wanted to be his friend, until one day a little rabbit came hopping by. He saw Dave sitting on the stump by his front door looking very, very sad.

“Hello there, Mr. Troll,” the rabbit called out.

Surprised, the troll didn’t know what to do. First, he looked over his favorite shoulder, and then he looked over the other one. He looked down at his feet and between his knees. He looked behind himself, even getting up to see if someone was there. It was only then he really believed the rabbit was speaking to him. 

It had been years since Dave spoke to anyone besides his imaginary friends and the bird who lived in the tree by his log. Clearing his throat, which sounded a bit like rocks tumbling down a hillside, Dave finally spoke, “Hello there, little rabbit.”

“Why are you looking so sad on such a beautiful day?” the rabbit asked.

“Well, I suppose it’s because I’m lonely,” Dave replied. “No one will be friends with me because they think I’ll eat them.”

“Will you?” the rabbit asked in earnest. 

“Goodness, no!” cried Dave. “I only eat blackberries and ferns, and the veggies from my garden.” He pointed to a patch of neat, green rows near his log. “And sometimes I cook up a little bread from acorn flour.”

“Then why is everyone afraid of you?” the rabbit wondered.

“Because once, a long time ago, there was a troll and he did eat more than blackberries and ferns, veggies and acorn biscuits. He was a mean bugger and they were right to be scared of him,” Dave answered. 

“But that wasn’t you!” the little rabbit shouted in Dave’s defense. 

“No, but it was my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather,” the troll said.

“I’m so sorry,” the little rabbit said. Then brightening, he added, “Well, I’d be happy to be your friend.”

“You would?” the troll jumped up with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

“Absolutely!” said the rabbit.

“Well then, since we’re friends, how about callin’ me by my first name. No more of this Mr. Troll business.”

“What's your name?” the little rabbit asked.

“Dave,” said the troll.

“My name's Dave, too!” said the little rabbit, hopping about widdershins, too exited to sit still any longer. 

“Nice to meet you, Dave,” they said together, and laughed until their cheeks hurt and their tears flowed from the kind of laughter that frees your soul.