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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.

 

Splash.

 

“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.

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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.

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Toy Memories – Gladstone

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 Gladstone remembers it.

 

Della’s running ahead, she’s laughing. She’s teasing. She’s not looking at him, she never does when Donald’s around. There’s a toy in her hands, and a story on her beak. She’s a pilot, a daring hero, there’s pirates chasing them.

 

He sniggers, cause the baby is chasing them, he trips and tumbles, pirate Fethry has tears in his eyes.

 

Don picks him up.

 

“I don’t wanna be bad!” Fethry says, and Donald hugs him.

 

“Del? Let Fethry be the hero?”

 

Della’s spinning, she never stays still. But she grins at Donald. “And we’ll be the dreaded Sky Pirates!”

 

Della gave over the toy to Donald. Who with great ceremony entrusted it to Fethry.

 

And Gladstone pouts, because Della never lets him play with her toys. They’re ignoring him! Why are they paying attention to the baby!

 

Della spin Fethry, and he goes faster and faster. She let go.

 

And Gladstone remembers being so upset, they’re ignoring him!

 

He trips Fethry.

 

Fethry goes tumbling over. The red plane glistening bright as it flies towards the pond.

 

Splash.

 

Fethry bursts into tears.

 

Gladstone bolts. No one comes after him.

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Toy Memories – Fethry

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 Fethry remembers it.

 

He’s small and slow and can’t keep up. The others keep racing ahead of him, but he’s a determined little Duckling, his head lowered as he hurries after them as fast as he can.

 

There’s laughter, and Della is spinning, faster and faster, the bright red plane held high.

 

Fethry watches in amazement, as Della’s dress flares out, her hair whipping around her face, and her laughter bright and cheerful and as lively as her plane. Fethry falls backwards still unsteady on his feet. Donald helps him up, brushing Fethry off.

 

It’s Donald that hands him the toy, after a few words with Della. She’s watching him expectantly. Fethry remembers the joy, spinning around like Della had done. Laughing with abandon.

 

His grip slips. The plane went flying.

 

And landed.

 

Splash.

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Toy Memories

robinine-blog:

Toy Memories – Donald

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 Donald remembers it.

 

Splash. Fethry in tears. Della yelling and running towards the water. Gladstone running away.

 

Then shouting. Donald remembers loud voices, and Della’s tearful look, and her angry silence.

 

He remembers being sent to his room without supper.

 

And Della still not speaking to him.

 

He remembers sneaking out, it was dark and cold. The water was colder.

 

He remembers waking to tearful furious Della.

 

He remembers “You’re worth more than any toy Don!”

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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.

Splash.

“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.

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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.

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