Toy Memories – Huey, Dewey and Louie
There’s a pond on Grandma’s farm, and at the bottom of that pond lies a toy airplane. Once it was a brilliant red, shiny and new. Now it’s colours have faded away, dulled to a pale beige. Once loved, but not forgotten.
This is how Huey, Dewey and Louie remembers it.
It’s a cloudy day, and they’re visiting Grandma Duck. Gladstone and Fethry must have been told, because they’ve turned up.
Uncle Fethry’s on a fishing kick, he’s all dressed up in the latest kit, with a fancy new rod, and Uncle Donald narrowed his eyes as soon as he caught sight of his cousin.
They don’t hear what is said, but it ends up with their three uncles sitting outside by the pond, all three of them competing to see who’s the better fisherman.
Huey, Dewey and Louie get out their nets, and splash about in the shallows, finding toads and newts. Huey has his book out to identify them, Louie is trying to feed one a fly, and Dewey is diving after a frog when they hear a yell.
There’s shouting, their uncles arguing. Then they suddenly go quiet.
Uncle Donald is holding something in his hands, and it’s not a fish. He’s trembling.
Both Gladstone and Fethry looks like they’ve seen a ghost, although their reaction are very different. Gladstone is backing away, his hands held of in front of him like he’s expecting an attack, Fethry is gleeful and frailing about.
Suddenly uncle Donald jerks away, ignoring his fishing equipment, and heading straight to the farmhouse.
Fethry bouncing after him, talking a mile a minute, and Gladstone hugs himself. Then he notices they are watching, and straightens himself out, shrugging off whatever it is, and trying to smile.
Huey, Dewey and Louie share a look, and without a word, they pick up their things and chase after Uncle Donald.
Uncle Donald is carefully washing a tiny toy plane in the kitchen sink.
It’s old, the colour faded unevenly, it’s missing a propeller.
Uncle Donald handles it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
“What is it?” Dewey asked.
Uncle Donald shakes his head. There’s tears in his eyes. Uncle Fethry looks between him and the triplets.
“It was Della’s.” Uncle Fethry says, “We… I lost it in the pond when we were kids.”
“Oh.” The triplets chorus, looking at the plane with renewed interest.
“It was her favourite toy.” Uncle Donald said softly. “It was the last present our Dad gave her before we lost them. She was so upset, I snuck out in the middle of the night to try to get it back.”
Uncle Donald set it on the table. Then glanced sideways at Fethry. “I win.” He declared.
There’s a shelf on Grandma’s farm, and on the shelf stands a toy airplane. Once it was a brilliant red, shiny and new. Now it’s colours have faded away, dulled to a pale beige. Once loved, but never forgotten.