Chu-Chu

CHU-CHU

To Iain, and his Uncle Jack

I never forgot the moment when I first met Chu-Chu. I was four years old and visiting Uncle Jack and his family with my parents. Or, rather, we were visiting Auntie Maggie and her family – Auntie Maggie was my mother’s sister, and she was married to Uncle Jack. Or whatever. I loved these visits because I loved Uncle Jack. I particularly loved his collection of toy soldiers. Uncle Jack  collected toy soldiers from cereal packets, you know how they would include them as a prize to encourage people to buy more cereal, or rather, to encourage children to push their parents to buy more cereal so that they could get more toy soldiers for their collection. Apparently Uncle Jack managed to eat more cereal than I, because his toy soldier collection was bigger and better than mine. Thus, I was always looking forward to these visits to Auntie Maggie and Uncle Jack’s house, because I wanted to play with his toy soldiers.

But this visit turned out to be different. Not because I couldn’t play with the toy soldiers, no, I got full enjoyment out of these as usual. But while I was playing with them and with Matthew, Uncle Jack and Auntie Maggie’s son, Uncle Jack suddenly came out of the kitchen with two wooden steam engines he had made himself, one in each hand. As Uncle Jack stopped before us, I slowly stood up, my eyes transfixed on these steam engines. One of them was bright red and the other one green; Uncle Jack had made them himself.  “Who wants one of them?” he asked, and the next moment I saw Matthew lunging forward and taking the red steam engine. He liked the bright colour. I was very happy with the green one myself; in fact, this was the one I immediately felt a connection with. It had a red stripe painted around the cylinder, but otherwise it was a peaceful green, and I immediately felt the rush of falling in love with it. I held it tight to my chest, grinning; it felt as if Christmas had come early. In fact, it felt as if all the Christmases I had ever had, and was going to have, had come early. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me. The best thing not only because I had just become the happy owner of this magnificent Steam Engine, but because of the way Uncle Jack had made it and its red brother for me and Matthew, and the way he had come out and given them to us, just like that.

I called the Steam Engine Chu-Chu, and we became inseparable. I had to have Chu-Chu with me absolutely everywhere. Chu-Chu accompanied me at the breakfast table, though he was not keen on cereal or in fact on any type of food. Still, he had to be with me at lunch also, and at dinner. I played with Chu-Chu all the time, and even while I was playing with my other toys, Chu-Chu was with me and joined in. I brought Chu-Chu with me wherever I went, including to the church. Chu-Chu had a string attached to it and could be trundled behind, so walking with Chu-Chu was a delight. I remember when my parents took me and Chu-Chu to visit Edinburgh and I trundled Chu-Chu through the entire length of Prince’s Street. My kind and patient parents let me do this and never protested or rushed me.  My joy over Chu-Chu was their joy. At night I had happy dreams because I always slept with Chu-Chu. Chu-Chu was my best friend, playmate, confidante and inspiration, always by my side as I was growing up. 

As a child, I did not have many toys. My parents were not wealthy. Yet, I had everything I needed – material essentials, my parents’ unconditional love, and Chu-Chu. Actually, I used to have another wooden toy, also a favourite of mine: a wooden sword made by a neighbour who would have loved to have sons so that he could make toys for them, but he did not have any – so he made this wooden sword for me, and I had the Sword with me everywhere just like Chu-Chu; even in the church. But, for my utter devastation, one day somebody stole the Sword and I never saw it again. Thankfully I still had Chu-Chu who was a loyal and supportive companion even through my grief about the Sword, and now I loved my Chu-Chu even more.

I was in my late teens when I heard from the radio of a car accident in New Seaham where Uncle Jack lived. He had at this stage become divorced from Auntie Maggie; or rather, Auntie Maggie had become divorced from Uncle Jack. Auntie Maggie was a very smart businesswoman who started her ventures by purchasing a children’s clothes' shop which she worked up to a fine franchise. I remember the fixings Uncle Jack made for the shop: a beautiful wooden counter, shelves, and the rest. As the shop began to thrive, Auntie Maggie also started a transportation business which she ran from the back room of the shop. Her descendants are running this transportation business now, and it has become one of the biggest transportation businesses in England. Auntie Maggie was obviously very smart, and her friends were very sophisticated. Auntie Maggie began to feel that Uncle Jack was not good enough for her, and eventually she filed for divorce. 

So, in Auntie Maggie’s eyes, Uncle Jack was obviously not smart enough. He was very handsome (apparently Auntie Maggie married him for his good looks), and great with his hands. He worked as a joiner in the shafts of the Vane Tempest coal mine. He constructed new tunnels in the mine. The roofs of these tunnels were held up by thick and strong pit props. In fact, my Chu-Chu and Matthew’s red steam engine were made from the offcuts of these props, and these gave them their marvellous sturdiness and great shape. However, the work in these coal mines was very dangerous. The Vane Tempest no longer functions as a coal mine. A museum is built over it, and this museum displays a record that 30 men died from work-related accidents in the mine. Uncle Jack did not die in the mine. Every now and then these coal mine tunnels and piths collapsed, damaging the roads above them. The roads developed cracks and caved in, and driving on them could be very dangerous. One of these road accidents took my Uncle Jack, whose car was flung into a field when the road under it gave in. Apparently Uncle Jack had come out of his car after it had stopped, and walked around until he collapsed and died from his injuries; he was drunk and had been on his way home after having merry time with his friends. He was only in his mid-forties.

Many years have passed since. By now my wonderful, kind and loving parents have also passed away, and I miss them very much. My father was a trainspotter. It was he who evoked that passion for steam engines in me. Steam engines were the deal of the day in my earlier childhood, and even though they began to be replaced with diesel engines at about the time when Uncle Jack gave me Chu-Chu, my father and I continued appreciating their magic.  I still do, and Chu-Chu still lives with me, we have stayed true to each other. 

With the passing of time Chu-Chu became old, bits of it began to want repair, and the paint started chipping off.  Somehow, I didn’t get around to repairing Chu-Chu for a long time, even though I always wanted to do it.

Then a fresh young breeze began to blow into my life in the person of my now partner and life companion, Algy. My whole existence acquired a new colour. When Algy shared with me that we are expecting a child, this new colour became even brighter, and now many things had to be fixed to make our home nice for our child. Together with Algy I repaired and re-painted Chu-Chu. It is now a beautiful green again, a lighter tone than before. The stripe around the cylinder is no longer red but gold. The old string had deteriorated but I did not attach a new one yet: no one knew when our child would become interested in Chu-Chu, and they could get stuck in the string if it were there too early. Otherwise, Chu-Chu was like new again, and my own and Algy’s eyes shone as we beheld Chu-Chu and dreamed about the soft little hands which were going to explore, caress and play with it. We so very much hoped that they would…

The day came. Another year had passed and our beautiful son, Oscar, had been our love and joy ever since he arrived. He had already learned to walk on his pudgy little feet. I loved watching him play and so did Chu-Chu, who had been waiting for his new playmate in his place in the sitting room. I was four when I got Chu-Chu, would Oscar also wait until he is four? No, Oscar did not wish to wait for this long. One day I saw him discover Chu-Chu. Suddenly his soft little one year-old hands were exploring Chu-Chu just like in my dreams when we were expecting him. Now he was pushing Chu-Chu, and I could see the delight on his face when he realised how many marvellous possibilities Chu-Chu could offer. I was standing quietly observing Oscar and Chu-Chu. A quiet tear made its way down my face, but I felt elated, so very happy to the core… 

Chu-Chu has become Oscar’s favourite toy just like it has been mine. Interestingly, alongside with Chu-Chu Oscar has another treasured wooden toy just as I did. He does not have a Sword, but he loves his wooden play trolley. We do not take Oscar to the church, so there has not been a possibility to do the church test with Chu-Chu and the Trolley. But, I have every intention to bring Oscar to Edinburgh when he will be a couple of years older. By then I will have attached a new string to Chu-Chu, so that Oscar will be able to trundle it through the whole length of Prince’s Street.

By Alex Lynn