I know who I am. I know what I am. I know where I am. Please listen to me, because they won't.

I am a steam engine. My paint color is a deep green, like those trees near my railway. My funnel is tall like a factory's smokestack, puffing proudly as I run down the line. My dome is large like a rounded chunk of dirty jade. My face is gray like the moon. It all sounds so poetic, I know. But even I can manage a little.

Anyway, my name is Smudger, and my number on this railway is 2. And my fear is real.

Why are they doing this to me? I only made a few accidental spills. I wasn't a bad engine. Okay, sure, I came off the rails a few times, but who worries about a few spills? Okay, maybe I did show off a bit, but please, you gotta understand! I just wanted to make the deliveries on time! Please don't hurt me! I didn't mean to...

"You'll be useful at last."

Useful? Wait, wait, please wait! Hold on! I'm sorry, Manager! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cause all those spills! Please, you have to believe me!

"I warned you, didn't I? Now you'll be put to good use."

A weird sensation overwhelms me as my wheels are removed. I feel them tingle and grunt as they're pried off, trying so very hard not to scream. My cab is dismembered bit by bit, like peeling layers of skin. It hurts-it all hurts-but I shut my mouth, trying to keep it all hidden. Dukey is here "supervising" the whole operation. I can't let him see me in pain. I just can't!

Instead, I convert my grunting into growling.

"Don't you growl at me," Dukey talks down to me as I am lowered before him, stripped of wheels and slid into that hole behind the shed. His annoyed expression softens into a rather unnerving old man's smile. "Nice to see you finally recognize your place, Smudger."

This is YOUR fault! I want to scream at him. This is YOUR fault, Dukey! I hope they turn you into a kitchen stove, you CRAP-COLORED RELIC! I hope vandals steal your wheels, deface your boiler, and turn your cab into an outhouse!

Instead, I make the mistake of shivering, gritting my teeth, and clenching my eyes shut, dread that's readable on my white-gray face like a map. Dukey sees it, and keeps up his unnerving old man's smile.

"Don't worry, Smudger. It'll be over soon enough. Just bear the pain like a real engine would."

"Stop shaking," one of the workmen chides me. "It's only going to hurt more if you shake and growl like that!"

"Come on, Smudger," Dukey chimes in. "Act like a mature engine for once. It'll be the last chance you ever get."

I want to scream at Dukey, to tell them to strip him to pieces. He's old! He's useless! He's an old fogey! Why would they scrap someone like me? Scrap him! Scrap him, too! Please, don't do to this me! Please! I didn't mean to! Please, don't do this to me!

I close my eyes, but I can smell a welder's torch…

"Bust my buffers…you're real?!"

I awoke from the memory-flooded nightmare, feeling a layer of grime building over my eyelids. Sunlight fell onto my head and heated the metal band around my face, making it unpleasantly warm. When my sight came back, there was a green engine paused on the tracks outside the brick wall that separated me from the railway. He was afraid, for sure-you just had to glance at the poor sap's gaping expression. Shifting my focus to his boiler, I could see the nameplate reading STUART. Going a little farther from there, I could make out the upper part of a number. I think it's a 4. I'm sure it's a 4.

"So Granpuff wasn't just blowing smoke about you…"

Granpuff. Granpuff. Why did that name sound so familia–oh, great. This was one of Dukey's underlings. I heard them in the shed from time to time, usually giving Dukey a headache. Different time, different place, I'd enjoy that. But now…

"Granpuff told me all about you, Smudger…"

I groaned at hearing my name again. Of course, I wasn't Smudger these days. I wasn't even an engine like the green one staring at me. (You'd kinda need wheels for that.) I was the generator in the back of the shed, hidden away like an ugly stove. And all because Dukey and the Manager couldn't handle a few spills. A few spills.

"What do you want?" I asked cautiously. I didn't wanna scare the guy more than he already was. Dukey apparently decided to tell him-and probably that other one, Dukey loved to talk-the story of what he did to me. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Stuart stammered. "I'm sorry er-er-Smudger! I just have-have never noticed you before!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm always here. I can't exactly just build up steam and leave."

"Of course! Of course! I'm sorry about your, um…your, um…"

"Come along now," Stuart's driver urged with an obviously annoyed tone. "We have a train to catch."

"Um-bye, Smudger!" Stuart took off, carrying his trail of freight cars behind him. "It was nice to meet you!"

I watched him go, sighing softly as I once again felt the phantom sensation of my missing wheels moving along the rails. I wanted to go outside, but was firmly rooted, my parts connected to the various doohickeys that I powered. All I could do was simply watch the world over the brick wall in front of me. Sometimes, there were clouds in all kinds of shapes and sizes, but no decent conversations. Then again, should I expect one from an engine that's terrified of me? But I would have given anything just to feel the tracks against my wheels again. Or to feel smoke billow from my funnel. Anything to feel like a real engine again.

But, no, Dukey had to ruin everything. Dukey had to keep getting at me for simple mistakes and simple spills. I told him no one would worry about, but did he listen? No, Dukey had to ruin everything! Pah! Like he was any better!

I closed my eyes and sighed softly once more. I'm sure it would only be a matter of time before I get my wheels back, right? And my cab. And my freedom. Could you imagine it? I'd be able to show Dukey and the Manager. A few spills? Ha! I'm better than that! I can be better than that! If only they'd give me a chance. If only…

Ah, who am I kidding?

After Stuart went off, I spent most of that afternoon trying to forget the conversion process. I remembered them hooking my funnel up to something above me, and then grounding me here behind the shed. At least the workmen didn't have horrible smiles like Dukey did. Ugh, I hated that Dukey oversaw the project himself. Something about "wanting to ensure that an "impertinent scallywag" like me was put to good use". More like he just wanted an excuse to watch them strip me of my wheels, and to be there when I was put down, so it'd seem like I was bowing to him. Like I would ever bow to him!

Just then, the old devil came on by. He'd sometimes stop in front of the brick wall to annoy me with that creepy smile, or to give me some "words of wisdom". Pah! Like he knew anything!

"What do you want?" I snarled. "Can't you see I'm miserable enough without you rolling by here over and over and over?" I rolled my eyes to emphasize the "over and over and over" part.

"You deserved your punishment," Dukey spoke in his usual stuck-up tone. "If you hadn't come off the rails one too many times, you wouldn't be where you are now. Such disrespectful behavior! That-"

"THAT WOULD NEVER SUIT HIS GRACE!" I screeched. I thought I mighta blown something.

"No need for disrespect," Dukey chided. "After all, you're of great use now, Smudger. See? Your engine is finally being put to its full potential." Dukey said the last word with that creepy smile on his face. "So why don't you be a good little generator and mind yourself, Smudger?"

I growled.

"Now, now. There's no need for that," Dukey held his creepy smile. "Just be seen and not heard, alright?" And Dukey moved away, taking his cars with him.

I shouted after him, not holding back this time. "Seen and not heard! Oh, that's so helpful, you CRAP-COLORED RELIC!"

"No need for vulgarities," Dukey snapped in his matter-of-fact voice as he and his cars disappeared.

I'd show Dukey "vulgarities" if I had my wheels. I'd show him! Run him off the rails! Make him crash into a bunch of cars! Make him have a few spills! Just enough that the Manager would do to him what they did to me. I can see it now: Dukey stuck behind the shed, rooted to the ground like the old fusspot he is. Can you picture that? Ha!

It won't happen. I know it won't. But I take what I can get.

The rest of the day was the same bore I experienced every day. I could feel all the power going through me into who knew where. It was uncomfortable for a while, like boiler ache back in my railway days, but then it eventually became a mild annoyance at worst. I guess it was just good to get used to it, right?

I thought of Dukey's words, especially the way he said "potential". Grr. What did he know about potential? He was an old stove on wheels! Fusspot! Crap-colored relic! May his boiler be defaced and his cab turned into an outhouse! They'd soon be scrapping him! …I hope.

Things were peaceful until night fell, with the sounds of the engines in the distance winding down. I'm sure Dukey was out there, chuffing and puffing and ordering Stuart and the other guy about like an old fusspot. (Just between you and me, I have no idea how they put up with him. But even then, I'd give anything to be in their wheels.) Through the back of the shed, I could hear Stuart and the other engine-I think Stuart said his name is Falcon or something-talking again. I've heard bits of their conversations before, but this time, I could hear some fear in Stuart's voice as he talked about seeing me earlier.

"He's right behind our shed!" Stuart told Falcon urgently. "Granpuff was right! He's right behind us! And he was very angry with me!"

"You can't be serious," Falcon replied, some fear creeping into his voice, as well.

"No, not at all! I saw him earlier today. It was scary, seeing him all cooped up like that. I felt kinda bad for him, Falcon. I mean, I know Granpuff said he was bad and stuff, but surely he didn't deserve that, did he?"

A new set of wheels rolled into the shed. It could be none other than Dukey coming into the shed to check on his two underlings. "What are you two scallywags talking about?"

"Oh, um, nothing, Granpuff!" Stuart abruptly responded.

"You're lying."

"Nothing, we swear!" Falcon chimed in.

Dukey did not push it. Instead, it sounded like he was going to position himself for a good night's sleep.

So they were scared of me? Scared of helpless ol' Smudger trapped as the generator behind their shed? Scared of me? Ha! I'd teach them!

"Whoooooooooooooo," I said softly, resisting the urge to snicker. "Whooooooooooooo."

If only I was able to see their faces. "What's that?"

"It probably was just the wind," Falcon said. "Nothing more."

I snickered quietly. And then, I let out a low guttural noise, like some sound a dangerous animal would make. Hearing their startled cries, I made the guttural noise deeper, as if I were going to pounce upon them while they were trapped in the shed. Again, if only I could see their faces!

"Oh! OH! It's Smudger! He's angry! He wants to pay me out for being rude to him!" Stuart panicked.

"Whoooooooooooo." Another guttural noise. Now a growl. Another "Whooooooooooo." I was feeling festive.

I heard some wheels rolling out, seemingly in a hurry. I snickered again, congratulating myself for scaring at least one of them right out of the shed. I readied to let out another "Whoooooooo" and-

"Were you trying to scare us, Smudger?" Dukey asked in his stuck-up tone as he rolled alongside the brick wall. "You know I don't scare easy. And anyway, it's rude to make noises like that in the night. Such irresponsible noise pollution. That would never suit his grace."

I growled.

"Come along," Dukey's driver said. "You need your rest, old boy."

"Take care to keep nice and quiet now," Dukey said as he disappeared. "You have no reason to make such noise. You have no wheels anymore, Smudger. Stop acting like an engine. You're not one anymore"

I went angrily to sleep, choosing to ignore the old devil. Fusspot! Fusspot! Crap-colored relic! May you be scrapped! May you have your boiler defaced and your cab made into an outhouse! Take that, Dukey! I'll pay you out yet!

I glide across the tracks, loving the sensation of the rails against my wheels. There's cool air brushing my sides, caressing my boiler. Steam rises from my funnel in a smooth trail, and I can see the stars as I travel down the line.

I'm not falling. I'm not spilling. I'm not doing anything wrong. It's good for the first time in so long.

But it doesn't last. Before I know it, my wheels vanish, and I tumble to the side. I roll down the side of a sudden mountain edge that corrupts my dreamscape. Rocks pierce my boiler, while my tall funnel is banged and dented. I want to scream, but all the puff has gone out of me. I close my eyes tightly as I bounce again. A rock jabs me right between the eyes. I choke out a small, weak scream.

I plummet over a ledge while Dukey and other engines' laughter echoes around me. Please make it stop. Please make it stop. My eyes open as I hit the ground. My wheels break off and shatter into millions of pieces.

"You're not an engine anymore," Dukey's voice tells me. "Why not be sensible and act like what you've become?"

Dukey's creepy old man smile expands into a horrific grin, showing off teeth I've never seen before. His eyes squint, Dukey laughs even more, now flickering unpleasant fangteeth. I close my eyes. Please make it stop. Please make it stop. Please make it stop…

Just between you and me, I wouldn't mind some company now and then, when I'm not having horrible nightmares. It gets lonely behind here, as you probably would figure. Aside from Dukey, the only others that ever came around were that one workman, who made sure I didn't leak or explode ("Still in good working order", he'd say), and the bugs that I could never shoo away when they decided to attack my face. That had to be one of the worst parts of the whole thing. A whole swarm of bugs going after your face, and you're completely helpless. It's practically adding insult to injury! Grr, it's all Dukey's fault!

Despite all that, being made into a spectacle was not my idea of having company over. But I guess Falcon had to have a turn gawking at the freak show.

"Oh my…" Falcon looked over the brick wall and right up my repurposed funnel. "So Stuart was telling the truth…"

I felt insulted. "How could you not have noticed me before? I've been here since before you and your little green friend got here. I've been trapped behind your shed, hearing your conversations about your work and your journeys all over the line. Again, how could you not see me before?"

Falcon seemed taken aback before he replied. "I wouldn't be wasting my time looking for a boogeyman hiding behind the shed! Unlike you, I actually have work to do!"

I growled. "You think what I do isn't work? Let me tell you-"

"Don't be daft! Why don't you just shut up an-an-and get back to generating?!" Falcon glared. "Huh! I thought you'd be a better engine!"

Falcon was really getting on my bad side. However, I silenced the deeper growl building inside me. Instead, I narrowed my eyes and replied in a quiet voice. "What makes you think that this would make me a better engine?"

Falcon paused. His face didn't hide the fear creeping onto it.

"What makes you think that having my wheels removed and being trapped behind a shed for the rest of my days would be some kind of magical learning experience? Where I'd be Dukey's favorite kind of engine? Hmm? Why would you think I'd be a better engine when I'm forced to sit here and generate while you engines move freely? Hmm? Is it because I'm not seen and not heard? Hmm?"

Falcon faltered. "Well, I…I mean…what I meant…what I meant to say…"

"What did you mean to say?" I eyed him suspiciously. "Did Dukey tell you that I'd be a better engine because of this? Did he say it with that creepy smile on his face?"

Falcon shuddered. "Um, um…"

Falcon's driver took over. "Don't waste time talking to him. C'mon, Falcon. Let's go. There's probably some cars we should be taking care of."

"Um, yeah! Cars! Like I said, Smudger! I actually have work to do!" Falcon tried to sound tough. "Good day to you!"

I smirked, seeing Falcon's horrified expression as he reversed, disappearing around a curve. An engine had to defend himself, you know?

They've been talking about the railway closing. I have to admit, I got worried. The workman who usually came to check on me wasn't coming by anymore. There have been fewer and fewer cars to deal with, and I have seen Stuart and Falcon passing by less and less. At first, I didn't think much of it. I didn't need to hear more of Stuart's babbling and Falcon's attempts to sound tough. But after a while, it got awfully quiet. Even Dukey didn't show up as much as he used to. I didn't want to see Dukey, of course, but I have to admit that him appearing less and less got to me a bit. Not seeing anyone gets to a guy after a while. Even if it was Dukey.

"Manager says there's no money in it anymore," I heard Stuart told Falcon. "He says that the whole railway is going under."

Falcon gulped. "Does that mean we'll be…?"

"Of course not! We'll probably be sold to other railways. We're good engines. We're really useful engines. Duke says so."

I mulled this over as storm clouds gathered in what I could see of the sky. The cover would keep me from getting wet, but still-what if I was here? Would I be sold, too? Maybe they would buy me and make me into a real engine once again. Maybe they would give me back my wheels and my cab and let me run on the line again. I wouldn't make more spills, I swear.

Or…maybe, they would just scrap me. No! They'd never do that! I mean, sure, they did this to me, but they'd never scrap me, would they?

"I hope Duke's right. I wouldn't want to be…be…"

"Spare me the thought!"

I glanced at the back of the brick wall, trying to get my mind off the subject. I tried counting the bricks for the millionth time, but the thought persisted. Another set of wheels rolled into the shed shortly afterwards. I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed. Sure, I wasn't seeing Dukey anymore, but I didn't need to hear him, either. Nope, back to the wall to count more bricks.

"Oh…" Stuart spoke after a few minutes, breaking my concentration. "What about Smudger?"

"What about him?" Dukey asked.

"Smudger might be…be…you-know-what…"

"All for the better," Dukey broke into the conversation, finally arriving. "He won't be of any use when our shed will be broken down, and we all will have to leave."

I gritted my teeth.

"Granpuff! How could you say that?!" Stuart snapped.

I imagined Dukey glared at Stuart acting like such an "impertinent scallywag". "Don't raise your voice at me."

Stuart didn't care. "I will, Duke! I've seen Smudger behind our shed. He's an engine like us! He's miserable! He's angry! He's suffering! And you don't give a freight car's cargo about it!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Stuart was standing to Dukey for my sake? Even after I scared him witless? Could this really be happening? One of Dukey's underlings actually speaking out against him?

Dukey wasn't fazed, much to my disappointment. "He's being punished for what he's done. I've told you what happened before, Stuart. He did wrong and was punished for it. It's his own fault he's where he is now. And if you are wise, you will not continue with this."

I hoped Stuart would lash at Dukey again. Sadly, he said nothing else. I sighed quietly, enraged at the thought of Dukey smiling triumphantly at having overcome Stuart's attempt to defend me.

May vandals steal your wheels! May they deface your boiler! May they turn your cab into an outhouse! All of that and more, you kitchen stove!

The next morning, the workman returned as gray clouds gathered in the patch of sky I could see. He was carrying a large tarp, dark gray on one side and sky blue on the other, and a box full of various tools. He slung the tarp over my head and draped it over my repurposed boiler. When he came to my repurposed funnel, he picked up a welding torch from the box. I winced at the smell of the torch.

"Don't worry," the workman told me as he got to work.

My teeth clenched as the flame tore though the top of my metal band for several minutes. Eventually, a hot hole was left behind where my funnel was once attached. The workman waited for the area to cool before he pulled the tarp over my head, with the dark gray side facing out. I could hear his footsteps as he sorted through his tools.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked finally.

"Protection," was all the workman would tell me. "Protection."

"From what?" I asked.

"Just protection, like what they're doing with the old engine they're putting into storage."

"Wait, Dukey's still here?"

"Yes, they're storing him in one of the sheds for now. But they'll come back for him at some point, I'm sure."

"But will they come back for me? I'm still useful! I'm still useful! Please!"

The workman didn't answer. My lips tightened as I heard his toolbox lift into the air. He stood for a moment longer. Maybe he was examining he, making sure I was completely "protected" from whatever I was supposed to be "protected" from. I wanted to ask him again, but his footsteps trailed away. I closed my eyes.

After what felt like an hour, I reopened my eyes. Blue was still present in my field of vision, slightly shaking as the wind beat against the tarp. A low growl built in my throat as I thought about Dukey. He did this to me. It's all his fault. He did this to me. That crap-colored relic! That…crap…colored…

"Is somebody there?!" I shouted. "Please, is someone there?! I'm sorry! Please don't leave me here! Please don't leave me here! Please don't! Please…"

My limited field of vision was blurred by tears. The rain fell outside, despite the big blue sky thrown out before my eyes. I tried to fall asleep. I tried to think of something else. I tried to think of…think of...think of…something. Please, I had to think of something…

So I thought of the rails, the ones my phantom wheels touched and ran upon. My funnel puffed a healthy trail of smoke. I opened my eyes, watching the bright blue sky stretch out into a cloud-free surface. The dreamscape…it was wonderful! I was a real engine! I was a real engine! I was a…I was a…

I began to sing…quietly as the rain continued outside.

Poor Smudger was left behind the shed,

waiting for someone still!

He hoped that someone would come

but he knows they never will!

Stripped of his wheels, what good would he be?

He's better off as forgotten history!

Choo-choo! We're sorry for you, Smudger!

Boo-hoo! We're sorry for you, Smudger!

Choo-choo! We miss you every day!

Boo-hoo! We hear you pray!

Dukey would say "I told you so"

with that creepy smiling face!

"I warned you, but oh no,

you didn't know your place!

Now you're stuck here forever

as a rotting generator!"

Choo-choo! We're sorry about you, Smudger!

Boo-hoo! We're sorry about you, Smudger!

Choo-choo! We miss you every day!

Boo-hoo! We hear you pray!

Now, the railway's all empty

and the engines all have left!

Except for dear old Dukey

who's being put into a shed!

Perhaps it's not all bad! It's a little swell!

Now dear old Dukey will share your hell!

Choo-choo! We're happy for you, Smudger!

Whoo-hoo! We're clapping for you, Smudger!

Choo-choo! Dukey's sealed away like you!

Whoo-hoo! You'll get your revenge soon…

How long has it been? How long has it been now?

My eyes sprung open. Footsteps echoed outside the tarp, walking through the thick dirt and mud. I closed my eyes again. I've been fooled before. Last time, it was just stones falling from somewhere in the distance. The whole place was falling apart since the others left. To think, Dukey was here somewhere, too. I felt a little better knowing he was stuck in some shed out there, probably just as helpless as I felt now. But…I couldn't even think of that. They'd come back for him, so surely they'd come back for me, right? No, that's stupid. No one's coming. No one will ever come.

Wait.

No.

NO! Those were footsteps!

Lacking a whistle, I tried to shout, but my voice was weak. I could no longer growl or make any noise. A bit of hope rose in my smokebox when the footsteps came closer. It was the sound of several men, chattering about "having found the right place". They finally came back! I can show them just how useful I am! No more spills. No more spills. I promise! No more spills. I'll do better! I'll do better!

Wait…where were they going? Couldn't they see the blue tarp? Couldn't they?! Please, come back! Come back! I swear I'll never spill again! PLEASE COME BACK!

COME ON!

PLEEEEEEEEASE!

Please, come back…

Please…if you came back for Dukey, you could come back for me…

Please…

Please…

…if I could still cry…

I don't know when they left. It was a long time ago. I heard voices, but they soon faded out as my eyes faltered, like stones falling somewhere in the distance. They cheered, they hurrahed, they praised Dukey's name. Somewhere out there, Dukey was smiling his creepy old man's smile. But somewhere, somehow, the world turned black. When I awoke, everything was quiet.

But someone will find me. Someone will come back for me, just like they came back for Dukey. I just know it.

I started watching the blue tarp sky over me. I needed something to pass the time, right? "Blue, blue, blue," I said to myself.

It was too cold to fall asleep again. Instead, I just focused on the blue sky that covered my eyes. It was pretty, like always. So pretty. Like the stretch of blue sky that hung overhead as I ran out on the rails. I laughed, I cried, I felt so free. Even without my wheels, I could move. I was a real engine again! Take that, you old fusspot! I'm free! I'm free and back on the rails! Smudger is back! Smudger is back!

It was a pretty color, wasn't it? Even with faded light creeping through, it was still so beautiful. There were no clouds. No annoying clouds. Just plenty of free blue sky with a few holes where the light came through. But I didn't care. Sooner or later, someone will find me. They came back for Dukey, and they'll come back for me. In the meantime, I have this beautiful blue sky. All this freedom! I'm a real engine again! A real engine! Never mind my missing wheels! I'm free, I'm finally free, right?

I'm not stuck here…no, not here. No, I'm not stuck here. They will come back for me, just like they did for Dukey. That crap-colored relic. Deface his boiler. Turn his cab into an outhouse. It was just a few spills. A few spills. Please, Manager, don't do this to me. I'm sorry. Please don't-

But, there's so much blue. Blue means freedom! Blue, blue, blue, blue. So much blue. Beautiful stuff! Blue, blue, blue, so much blue. I'm free as long as I think about blue. Dukey can't make it worse. No, as long as I have that blue sky, I'm free. Blue, that beautiful color!

Blue, blueblue…so much blue…they'll come back for me…

Blue, blueblue…somuch blue…focus on the blue…

Blueblueblue…somuchblue…i'mfree…

Bluebluebluesomuchblue…i'marealengine…

Bluebluebluesomuchblue…i'mfree…

Blublublusomuchblu… thatbrightbluesky…

Blublublusomuchblu…

Blu…somuchblu…

Blu means I'm free…

i'm free…i'm finally free…