Toys

__ ** Toys ** __  Jerrie stuck out a tongue, tasted the crumbling body of a random snowflake, and squealed. I watched, beaming as my son jumped and tumbled about in the virgin snow. Even as the biting cold found its way through the thin leather of my boots, the twinkling of the Christmas lights lining the shop windows in the street ahead urged me on. I quickened my pace, calling for Jerrie to follow as I trudged onwards towards the promise of warmth in a hopefully – affordable diner.

As I walked past a row of brightly lit shops, I realized that Jerrie was no longer walking by my side. Turning back, I found my son with his nose glued to a window strung with Christmas lights. The sign, with it’s faded red and gold lettering, read, “Quaxo’s Toys”. Now I knew why Jerrie was unable to take his eyes off the shop interior. Every sort of toy imaginable was packed onto the shelves, the display windows crammed full with an assortment of toys of every shape and size. Every year without fail, I would select a toy from one of those shelves and bring it home, to watch Jerrie unwrap it on Christmas morning, his eyes sparkling with excitement and mouth in a wide grin of glee.

Just as suddenly as I had lapsed into my thoughts, I was jolted awake by the cold, harsh reality of affordability. This year had been a hard one, and I had to scrimp and save just to get food into our mouths. Neglecting to plan for Christmas early this year, I had forgotten to get a present for Jerrie. Now, I had no savings to even buy him a present. Canines trapping my bottom lip in a classic show of anxiety, I pondered over a way to get out of this muddle, knowing how important this tradition of toy-giving was to Jerrie and myself.

“I said I didn’t want this toy in blue!” I cringed as a shriek pierced my eardrums, interrupting my train of thought. Twisting my head sharply towards the source of the noise, I observed as a young girl in a pink fur coat, looking to be no older than Jerrie, stomping out of the toy store. Her parents trailed in her wake, making up all sorts of reasons to pacify her.

“Blue is a boy’s colour! It’s ugly, I don’t want it!” I winced again at her shrill voice, watching on silently as she stomped her feet, throwing a tantrum. Thanking my lucky stars that Jerrie was never this demanding, I turned back to him. Oblivious to the commotion that had just taken place mere feet away from him, he stood by the window still, lost and enchanted by his wonderland of toys, wondering what I was going to get for him for Christmas. I took his hand in mine, tugging him away from the window, a smile forming on my face. My dinner could wait. Money like that could be better invested in a well-deserved present for Jerrie.

As we sat down to dinner, I watched Jerrie’s cold cheeks flush a rosy red in the warm air of the diner. The smell of food wafting through the air was tempting, but I held fast, placing Jerrie’s order at the counter and striding back to the table with a single steaming plate in my hand. I watched him tuck into his warm meal, a hand clamping over my lower abdomen to suppress the soft protesting gurgles of my empty stomach. A loud growl suddenly erupted from my stomach, causing Jerrie’s head to shoot up in surprise, wondering why I did not have a meal of my own.

“Daddy, why aren’t you eating? You must be hungry. Wanna share?” He slid the plate from his side of the table to mine. I was delighted at his eagerness to share, my fingers stretching out to stop the plate before it reached me. “Daddy isn’t hungry. This dinner is all yours.” Pushing the plate back to him, he looked mildly confused, but he shrugged and returned to wolfing down his dinner with no further inquiries. I looked on, a smile etched on my face, knowing that it would all be worthwhile when I saw the smile on Jerrie’s face in the morning.

Gloveless hands shoved deep into my coat pockets, I braced myself against the early morning wind, threadbare cap pulled low over my eyes to shield them from the snow whirling all around me. Briskly walking to the storefront, my mouth hung agape as I saw the sign hanging on the door handle. “Closed” I muttered a few choice swear words under my breath, kicking the door open in annoyance. To my surprise, it flew open with a silent swish, snow already starting to float in and melt on the warm tile floor. The shop was lighted, but deserted. I cast a glance around, but after seeing no one, stepped in and closed the door behind me, eyes quickly setting to work, scanning the shelves for the perfect gift.  Then, like a bolt out of the blue, a glint of red caught my eye as I whirled to face the middle shelf, eyes focused on a miniature wooden toy train, painted the brightest red I had ever my laid eyes on. My cold trembling hands reached out to hold it, turning it over and inspecting every minute detail.  “It’s beautiful…” I could not help whispering to myself. It was perfection.  “I know.” Came a whisper just beside my ear. Startled, I stumbled backwards, catching myself on a display shelf behind me. Only to see the old toy maker, Quaxo, staring back at me with a bemused expression on his face. The toy I had hastily thrust in his direction in the midst of my escape was clasped gently between his wizened fingers.  “This must be for young Jerrie. A wise choice. I made and painted this myself. For this I’ll take half a crown, and no less.” Mentally cringing at the price, I fished around in my pockets for the money, shooting him an apologetic smile. I emptied out my pockets onto the counter under his watchful gaze. Counting out two shillings and six pence, I shifted the few coins towards him. The only measly sum left on my side of the counter was tuppence. Gingerly, I swept them into the palm of my hand and pocketed them, watching as Quaxo shifted the coins onto a piece of white paper and disappeared into the back room. Tapping my foot, I hummed a tune faintly to try and drive away the thought of all that money no longer in my pockets.  Ten minutes later, Quaxo reappeared, neatly wrapped toy in hand. I tried hard to smile back at him but failed. It was impossible to take my mind off the half crown I had just spent. Nevertheless, Quaxo cheerily bid me a Merry Christmas and goodbye, waving as I hastily exited the store while returning a halfhearted wave, door swinging shut with a soft swish.  Arriving at my doorstep, huffing and panting at the exertion, I eased the creaky door shut as quietly as I could, tiptoeing to the Christmas tree drawn on paper on the wall and placed the gift below it. My knees felt weak from sprinting all the way home in the eight inch blanket of snow. I stacked a couple more logs into the fire and took a few steps backwards, collapsing into my armchair, exhausted yet relieved.  <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As if on cue, Jerrie came bounding down the stairs, yelling “Merry Christmas!” at the top of his voice. I cracked a strained smile, too tired to do otherwise as he knelt beside the Christmas tree, package already in his hands. I watched, smiling and content as he undid the bow and wrapping paper fell away to reveal the red marvel beneath. His grin was the widest I had ever seen. Then he turned to me, a slightly puzzled look on his face as he passed me a small cylindrical package wrapped in white paper addressed to me. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;"> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="display: block; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%; text-align: left;">Bewildered, I unrolled the package and a plethora of coins fell into my lap. I counted them, two shillings six pence in total, the exact amount the toy train was worth. Smoothing out the white paper in my hand, I could not help the edges of my mouth perking up into a wide grin. In gold ink, written on the back of the white paper, “Give, and ye shall receive. Merry Christmas!”

Written by Ai-Ling --- Comments by Mr V Toh

Dear Ai Ling, thank you for making this such a pleasant and touching read. I like the little observation the father made about the other child. It reminds me of the many children I met in Singapore shopping malls. Indeed, children need not be like that.

The essay is well-crafted with many interesting words and vivid phrases. The only blemish seems to be the abrupt transition marked by the change of font size. Are the two parts written on the same sitting?

Ai-Ling: Indeed the two parts were written in two sittings. But I wasn't aware that the font size it different. It looks exactly the same on my computer. Hopefully that problem is fixed now.

Carol: I like your story. It flows, it's well-written and it teaches a good moral value, short and sweet and to the point. Not to mention the Christmas spirit of giving thrown in as well. One thing I'm curious about though. Why Quaxo? Has that, by chance, got anything to do with Cats? :D

Ai-Ling: Indeed! You guessed right, Quaxo is my favourite Tom from that musical ;D Though I'd hardly call my essay short and sweet. It's easily over 1,400 words!