A Recipe for Disaster
Author's note: I originally wrote this story between December 2012 and January 2013. It is set in Season 16, before and following the events of "The Christmas Tree Express." Peter Sam's outburst was taken from a rewrite of the Tugs episode "Sunshine", on DangerousRadical's deviantart page; the idea for Luke calling Duke "Granpuff" comes from the ERS guide on on the Sodor Island Fansite; the night scene of Luke's bad memories echoes that of the Tugs Audio Production, "Big Mac"; and finally, the line "fool of a Kerr Stuart" is a reference to Gandalf's line, "fool of a Took", in the LOTR series. Enjoy! I do not own or endorse Thomas.
Luke is a little Irish saddletank engine who helps with the slate traffic on the Skarloey Railway. Spunky and sweet-natured, he loves life and works hard. But Luke can also be rather timid and jumpy, owing to the many long years he spent hiding in the Blue Mountain Quarry, believing he'd caused an accident. And even though he was exonerated, his self-esteem didn't improve much afterwards.
One evening in late December, the Thin Controller came to see him. "Luke," he said, clearing his throat a bit, "as you know, you've come a long way from the time you spent in hiding. And to this day, you remain an invaluable part of the railway."
Luke blushed modestly. "Thank you, Sir."
"Therefore," continued the Thin Controller, "I feel it is time for you to learn how to pull passenger trains."
"Passengers, Sir?!" exclaimed Luke. He could hardly believe his ears.
"Yes, Luke!" laughed the Thin Controller. "Tomorrow, you shall double-head the first train with Duke. He'll show you the ropes."
Right away, Luke began to feel uneasy. He didn't know Duke well, but he always seemed very grand and serious: the last thing he wanted was to disappoint the old engine. Luke swallowed hard and said as bravely as he could, "Yes, Sir. I'll do my very best."
"I'm sure you will, Luke. Now get a good night's rest."
In the morning, Luke's crew came to the shed early to give him a special polish. "Got to give your first passengers a good impression, haven't you, lad?" his driver grinned.
"Well that shouldn't be too hard," chuckled the fireman. "After all, what's not to love about a nice little engine like our Luke?" But Luke took notice of his fireman's praise, for his driver's words had instantly taken the form of more pent-up anxiety in his mind: would he really be able to give his first passengers a good impression?
Before long, Luke had steam up, and when Duke was ready, they both ambled along to the carriage shed to collect Agnes, Ruth, Lucy, Jemima, Gertrude and Millicent. "You'd best let me go in front, young'un," advised Duke. "I could tell you a thing or two about what happened to Sir Handel when he insisted upon leading."
"Whatever you say, Duke, Sir," Luke gulped. Great, he thought to himself. More pressure!
"Now then," Duke continued, "the most important thing to know about coaches is that you can't give them the same treatment as trucks. Bump them, and they're sure to pay you out, even if it was accidental..."
But Luke was fretting so much that he wasn't listening. "Luke, did you hear me?" called Duke. "Luke!" Luke snapped back to reality, panicked, and shot forward. "Whoa, boy!" cried his driver, and tried to check him, but too late. Luke slid helplessly into the coaches, giving them a nasty bump. "Ooh!" they shrieked. "Watch where you're going!"
"Fool of a Kerr Stuart!" Duke scolded. "What did I just tell you?! You can just consider yourself fortunate that the guard wasn't in Millicent!"
Luke thought that was rather unfair. After all, the rails were a bit icy that morning, and Duke had startled him. "But I...," he started to protest.
"But nothing," Duke interrupted sternly. "I only hope this will be a well-learned first lesson to you."
"Yes, Duke," said Luke meekly. "Sorry about the bump, girls. I promise it won't happen again."
"We'll believe that when we see it," snorted Agnes, and there were disgruntled murmurs of agreement from the other six.
When the guard arrived, the two engines pulled the coaches to the platform at Crovan's Gate Station, where James had just dropped off passengers from his morning stopping train. "Now slow down gently," called Duke. "You don't want to jostle them. That would never suit His Grace."
Don't I know it, thought Luke as his driver eased on the brakes. "Not bad, eh girls?" he giggled nervously to the coaches, as he and Duke ran round.
"You may look harmless," Agnes hissed, "but I'll watch you like a hawk!" Once again, Luke felt his boiler quiver. He struggled not to look too jittery as he backed down on her. "For Stephenson's sake, Luke, don't blow up all that steam! You've practically flooded the platform!" Duke snapped exasperatedly.
Luke glanced to his side, and noticed the passengers all coughing in an enormous cloud of steam from his cylinders. "Mind my paintwork!" James yelled over.
"Sorry!" Luke called back, feeling his cheeks going nearly as red as James.
As the train trundled up the line, Luke grew unhappier and unhappier. It seemed all Duke did was give negative criticism: "Luke! Keep your couplings taut!...Blast it all, young'un, there's no need to whistle so loudly. The whole of Sodor could hear you!...Oh Luke, I've told you time and time again, please, don't jostle the coaches!" The more the old engine scolded, the more Luke's self-esteem dwindled and the more his already pent-up anxiety increased.
By the time they reached the top station, Luke was a nervous wreck, but Duke wasn't in the mood to notice. "Come now, Luke, what on Earth is the matter with you?!" he burst out. "Does life as a quarry engine hinder you completely useless otherwise?"
Luke knew perfectly well what the matter was: the more Duke criticised him, the less confident he felt, and the worse he performed. But he felt too shy to tell the grand engine so. "It's...erm...nothing," he replied hastily.
"Well, just get straightened out," said Duke sharply, "or you'll give the passengers another nightmare of a ride on our return journey!" Luke cringed and followed him to the back of the train. Duke himself was shocked for the first time at his tone of voice. "Driver," he ventured, "do you think I've been a bit hard on the boy?"
"That's your decision to make, old chap, not mine."
As they buffered up to the coaches, Duke opened his mouth to apologise to Luke, but then the last door slammed and the guard whistled. Duke resolved to save his apology for the arrival home, as he and Luke whistled back and drew out of the platform.
Just before the top station is a stretch of line where the engines often have to slow down in frosty weather, due to the unstable ground beneath it. Surprisingly enough, Luke had managed this area just fine on the upward journey; but the coaches were still upset with him for jostling them time and time again. "We'll trip the worthless runt up!" hissed Agnes to Ruth. "That'll teach him to roughhouse sophisticated coaches like us!" The others giggled delightedly as they passed the word.
On any other occasion, the coaches would have known better than to play such dangerous tricks on unstable bits of the line. But they were so cross with Luke that they didn't care what they did. As soon as the two engines were within merely a few yards of the area, Agnes screamed, "NOW!" They surged into Luke, making him lurch violently on. "Brakes, driver, please!" he whistled. But by then it was too late. Applying the brakes on icy rails only made Luke's wheels skid, and before either his crew or Duke's could reduce steam or activate their sanding gears, they were careering helplessly down the bumpy line. "No, Luke, ease off on those brakes!" shouted Duke.
"Yes, lad, steady!" called his driver.
"ON, ON, ON!" yelled the coaches.
Poor Luke felt as if his instincts had frozen. With his crew and Duke all shouting at him, and the coaches forcing him relentlessly on and on, he didn't know what to do. Even when his driver unwound the handbrake and closed the regulator a bit, Luke didn't respond. He was in a state of complete shock and panic. "Ease off, young'un, ease off!" bellowed Duke.
"How d'you like that, runt?!" shrieked Agnes triumphantly.
"HELP!" wailed Luke despairingly. The next thing he knew, both his and Duke's crews had jumped clear, as the two engines hit a large dip in the trackbed, left the rails, and landed on the sleepers with a loud clang. Luckily, they stopped moving before any of the coaches could come off as well, and neither the crews nor the any of the passengers were badly hurt. But Duke had punctured a cylinder, and his tender was severely dented and battered. He was furious. "Young idiot!" he thundered. "Look what you've done! Tell me, have you any common sense at all?! Am I not fit to be a teacher, or are you just immune to all advice and warnings?!"
"I...I...," Luke faltered, horrified by the accident and hurt by Duke's outburst.
"Think of all the refunds we'll have to make thanks to your stupidity!" Duke went on. "I wouldn't be surprised if none of these passengers came back! Who could blame them? They'd have to be mad to travel behind a menace like you again!"
"Duke," Luke squeaked, "I'm so sorry..."
"I hate to burst your bubble, Luke, but 'sorry' won't help you now! I'll see to it personally that the Thin Controller never allows you to pull passenger trains again! You're clearly unfit for anything but slate traffic!"
Luke felt terrible, even worse than he did that stormy day when he first arrived on the Island, when he thought he'd knocked Victor right off their boat. But this accident beat the former by a longshot: now he had disgraced himself, disgraced Duke, disgraced the Thin Controller, disgraced the whole Skarloey Railway.
His driver, in the meantime, had called the Thin Controller, who immediately sent Rusty and Mr. Hugh with the breakdown train and a flatbed for Duke. Mighty Mac came along as well, to take the coaches away once the mess had been sorted out. The engines waited in the cold for several hours, until Duke and Luke were finally lifted to safety. "C'mon, Luke," tooted Rusty. "I can't pull Duke and the breakdown train on me own, ya know."
"I guess that's all I deserve," replied Luke miserably, and buffered up. Mighty Mac was coupled to the coaches, and Millicent's guard flagged the two cavalcades through.
It was late in the afternoon when they finally arrived back at Crovan's Gate. As soon as Mighty Mac had halted the coaches, the passengers buzzed out like angry bees, and complained to the Thin Controller about Luke. "Don't take them lightheartedly, Sir!" Duke called, as Rusty hauled him away to the Steamworks. "Allowing that clumsy, bucktoothed fool on a passenger train was your worst mistake! If I were you, I'd keep him confined to his blessed slate traffic!"
"Please, Sir!" pleaded Luke. "I swear I didn't mean to..."
"I've heard enough!" snapped the Thin Controller. "Luke, you will remain in the shed until further notice!"
"Better still: sell the runt for scrap!" sneered Agnes. "That's all he's worth anyway!"
Luke's crew solemnly reversed him into the shed and dropped his fire. "We're sorry it has to be this way, lad," sighed the driver as they turned to go home, "but orders are orders."
As evening fell, the other engines came in and soon fell asleep. But Luke stayed awake, brooding over everything that had happened that day. Remembering his driver's words about giving the passengers a good impression, he felt hot tears well up in his eyes, then begin to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls. The next thing he knew, he was sobbing uncontrollably, as the memories of the accident, Duke's scolding and Agnes's insults repeated over and over again in his smokebox: "Young idiot!" "You're clearly unfit for anything but slate traffic!" "Sell the runt for scrap! That's all he's worth anyway!"
Repairs to Duke took longer than expected, and it wasn't until after New Year's Day that he was finally able to go home. He puffed happily into the depot, expecting a warm welcome, but was instead met with fierce glares, especially from Skarloey, Rheneas, Sir Handel and Peter Sam. "Err, morning, all," Duke said cautiously. "Had a happy New Year, I expect?"
Peter Sam, enraged, let out a huge burst of steam. "FIRE AND SMOKE, GRANPUFF! ARE YOU REALLY THAT THICK?!" he screamed.
Duke was taken quite aback: it was a rare occasion to see Peter Sam so angry. "What the scrap merchant's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
"Don't take us for fools, Duke!" snapped Rheneas. "Luke told us everything! Your accident's left him devastated!"
"Do you think he just shrugged it off?!" demanded Skarloey. "Do you actually think all your yelling just went through one of his ears and out the other?! Duke, for Stephenson's sake, he's not Stanley!"
"Then why on Earth couldn't he stop jostling the coaches about, or ease off when I told him to?!" Duke shot back.
"I can answer that!" huffed Peter Sam. "He lacks so much self-esteem, all your criticism must've left him a nervous wreck! What's the matter with you, Granpuff?!" he went on, his voice beginning to crack. "Do you think all newcomers are Stanley, or even just Sir Handel or me, all over again?! Granpuff, for crying out loud, leave my cousin alone!"
Just then, Rusty and Luke trundled in, pulling the works train: the Thin Controller had finally let Luke out of the shed and relegated him onto maintenance work. As a matter of fact, he and Rusty had just spent the night laying fresh ballast on the stretch where he and Duke had had their accident. Having never been out that late before, Luke was quite exhausted. "Top o' the mornin', everyone," he yawned. Then he noticed Duke: his eyes popped wide open and he gasped out loud. Everyone else could only hold their breath. Finally, Luke said quietly, "If you're going to yell at me again, go right ahead. I don't care anymore. You were right anyway, Duke: I'm not fit for passenger trains."
After an awkward pause, Rusty cleared his throat. "Err, well, Luke, we'd better stow this lot away now." And they set off to return their trucks to the carriage shed. "You see, Granpuff?" Sir Handel glowered. "He's been brainwashed by all your bullying!"
Duke made no reply, but deep down, he had a sinking feeling that what his friends had said was very true. Poor little Luke was heartbroken, and it was all his fault.
The following day, Duke was pulling the afternoon passenger train, and stopped at Lakeside on his upward journey. Then Luke chuffed up on his way back to the depot, after helping to clear trees brought down by strong winds the night before. "Oh, erm, hi, Duke!" he said timidly. "Just stopping for a quick topping-up!" He halted beside the water tower, and his fireman put the hose into his tank. After a few moments' pause, Duke took a deep breath. "Luke, I want to apologise for treating you so harshly."
"But Duke," sighed Luke sadly, "the accident was my fault. I shouldn't have locked my brakes on that icy bit."
"That's as may be, but my shouting didn't exactly make things better," persisted Duke. "But now that you've mentioned it, why do you think you seized up in the first place?"
"I can help you there," called Luke's driver. "He's always been a nervous sort of engine; so my guess is that when the coaches pushed him and we all started shouting, he just lost his cool and didn't know what to do. How about it, Luke? Does that sound right to you?"
"I suppose," ventured Luke. "And I guess that could also explain why my performance got worse and worse every time Duke berated me. I wanted to tell you that when you first asked me what was wrong," he added meekly, "but I just couldn't bring myself to do so."
Duke gave a deep groan of remorse: Peter Sam had been right about his cousin's self-esteem. "Oh, if only I hadn't been worrying so much over our passengers, perhaps I could have realised that!"
Luke frowned, puzzled. "But we're supposed to put passengers' needs before our own; aren't we, Duke?"
"Yes, Luke, but the point is, I was far too wrapped up in my old teaching methods to notice how much I was upsetting you."
"What d'ye mean, your 'old teaching methods'?"
"I mean the strict ways in which I brought up Sir Handel and Peter Sam, back on our old line," Duke explained. "I was too wrapped up in this style to realise how much confidence you lack, and in the process, I hurt your feelings and self-esteem. Your poor confidence combined with my harshness only proved to be a recipe for disaster, Luke, and for that, I am truly sorry. I only hope you can find it in your firebox to forgive me."
For the first time in several days, Luke beamed from buffer to buffer. "Of course, Duke."
"Still," Duke continued, "I feel it's absolutely necessary to make this incident up to you. Perhaps my driver could ask the Thin Controller to give you another go at passenger duties; couldn't you, driver?"
"No problem, old chap...oh! There's the guard's whistle; we'd better be off."
"And if the Thin Controller agrees," Duke called as he steamed away, "I promise I'll use only positive criticism while teaching you!" Luke laughed delightedly, whistled goodbye, and set off back down the line.
Duke's driver was as good as his word, and as soon as the case was presented to the Thin Controller, he agreed to give Luke a second chance. A few days later, Luke and Duke double-headed another passenger train, with Luke leading this time. He still felt uneasy around Agnes, but Duke promised to give her a few choice words if she insulted him or tried any tricks.
The young engine's confidence was further bolstered by the elder's gentler criticism: "That's it, Luke; easy going around that bend...Oh, that could've been a little smoother, but good job all the same...Oh Luke, well done! This trip would surely have suited His Grace! You'll be a first rate mixed-traffic engine in no time!" Duke was right: with plenty of positive reinforcement, Luke quickly became a favourite among passengers and coaches alike-even Agnes. You'd think that accident never happened!
Nowadays, the two engines enjoy each other's company immensely: Duke even lets Luke call him "Granpuff". The coaches never give Luke any trouble, and they are all quite agreed on the subject of bumpy tracks!