Toy Memories – Della
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 Della remembers it.
She loved that little plane. It was cherry red, and the twin propellers spun when she held it up to the wind or ran with it. It was the last present her father gave her, and she cherished it.
She didn’t even let Donald play with it, it stayed perched on her pillow while she slept.
But Fethry is gazing at her with adoration, his eyes keep glancing to her plane, his hands making little grasping motions.
Donald asked, and Della caves. Fethry is adorable as he spins round and round, not quite managing to get the propellers to spin. Della steps in to help, twisting him fast and faster, and they’re laughing.
She lets go, and Fethry spins too close to Gladstone.
Then her plane takes flight.
It is beautiful, everything she ever believed it could be. She’s in flight with her plane, her breathe caught.
There’s a scream.
“No!” She dives into the water, she’s crying, she can’t see it, wait, flash of red, she dives again.
And she’s hauled out of the water.
She’s so angry, she’s crying and screaming, struggling to get to her plane, it’s hers, she can’t lose it, it means everything to her.
They take her away, and she’s so furious, so upset, she doesn’t say a word to Donald.
It’s gone, Mum and Dad are gone, she’s lost everything.
Donald looks so small when they pull him out of the water.
She’s crying again.
He looks so pale laying in the hospital bed.
It’s her fault. It’s all her fault.
Why would he do that?
Doesn’t he know he’s more important than a toy?
She might not have her plane any more, but her parents left her something better.
They left her Donald.