Disclaimer: Thomas the Tank Engine does not belong to me.

Gordon Takes a Life

Gordon the big engine is very proud. He does a fine job of pulling the express, and the passengers see him as quite the celebrity.

"I'm a symbol of this railway," he boasted to Henry at the station, "When people see me, they shout, 'There's Gordon, the finest engine Sir Topham Hat has to offer!'"

Henry laughed, "What happens when you burst your safety valve? Or when you run off a turntable into a ditch? Or need I mention the time your dome flew off as well? It seems to me that you become a ridiculous mascot."

Gordon looked severely at Henry, "We all make our mistakes, Henry, like when you went off the rails with the Flying Kipper. Some accidents just can't be avoided."

Henry grimaced at the memory of that accident, "Well, you have a point there, Gordon. I'm just glad that no one was hurt."

"As well you should be," rumbled Gordon, "If anyone had been in that brake van when you crashed into it, you would've been in a very disgraceful position."

Presently, they heard a conductor's whistle.

"Oh, it's time for me to go," said Gordon, "Goodbye, Henry."

He whistled, and started off.

Gordon sped along the main line with the express. No matter how often he did this, it was always an exhilarating thrill for him. "Hurry, hurry, hurry!" he puffed to the coaches.

Far ahead of him, there was trouble. A group of college students who were home visiting their families were having a party near the rails. They'd been drinking, and were being rather noisy and rowdy.

One of them, whose name was Randy, climbed over the fence and started dancing on the rails, "Look at me!" he shouted, "I'm an engine!" His friends laughed, and he continued to prance about in his drunken state.

Gordon continued rushing along the line. He passed by a signal that was set at a warning position. The signalman had learned of the party, and had set the signal to alert engines to blow their whistles. Gordon slowed down, but he was still going quite fast. He whistled, but he was more interested in attracting admiring passers-by than warning anyone.

Gordon's whistle was loud and could be heard from a great distance, but the loud music kept the partying students from being able to hear, and their lack of sobriety made them less cautious about the rails.

Randy was still dancing on the rails when Gordon was visible. Some of the less drunken students tried to shout to him, but he took no notice.

Gordon saw Randy and was alarmed, "GET OFF THE RAILS!!!" He whistled and shouted, and his driver applied the brakes.

Needless to say, Randy didn't get off the rails, and Gordon couldn't slow down quickly enough. Gordon shut his eyes, and something splattered across his face.

When he opened his eyes, there was a great clamor about him. Many of the party-goers were panicked and screaming. The driver called for an ambulance, and the fireman tried to keep the passengers and students from getting too close to the scene while the conductor rushed back behind the train with his red flag in hand.

Gordon was shocked, and was absolutely numb. "Wh-what happened?" he asked his driver in a shaken voice.

The driver avoided looking directly at him, "I think you know as well as I do, Gordon."

Gordon was overwhelmed, "That's his blood on me, isn't it?"

The driver nodded.

Gordon couldn't speak. The blood on his face almost felt like it was burning, and he could feel the accusing eyes of the partiers and the passengers. He knew that they weren't looking at him in amazement, but in frightened awe at how dangerous he was.

The ambulance arrived with a police car following, but what was left of Randy was collected to be taken away in a body bag. The policeman questioned the driver, fireman, and the partiers about what had happened. He said he'd need to see the superintendent about it, but it looked like most of the blame rested with those at the party.

Gordon wasn't convinced. He felt it was his fault that Randy was dead. He no longer wanted to pull the express.

"Please," he begged his driver somberly, "Get Henry to take the train and get me to the shed….and get this blood off of me…" His driver agreed and uncoupled him.

Back at the shed, the workmen managed to wash the blood off of Gordon, but he was still numb. "It feels like it's going to be stuck on me forever…"

For the following week, Gordon stayed in the shed. His driver tried to convince him to come out, but he refused. "I'm too dangerous," he moaned, "I'm a disgrace to this railway."

The other engines became miserable too. Although they didn't appreciate Gordon's boasting, his confidence had always been an inspiration to them. However, without him they started to question just how safe to people they were. Toby the tram engine was the only one who didn't.

"I've got these cow-catchers and side-plates," he was explaining to Percy, "With them, I won't cause such an accident."

"Yes," said Percy, "but you can't go nearly as fast as Gordon, nor are you as strong."

"That's a good point," frowned Toby, "Poor Gordon. I've never seen him like this before."

"But it wasn't his fault!" protested Percy, "He almost ran me over once, but he stopped just in time. Even if he'd knocked me off the rails, it would've been my fault for not alerting the signalman that I was waiting for the switches to be changed."

"You know, Percy," said Toby, "I think that may have the solution to bringing Gordon out of this sorry state. Why don't you speak with him?"

"Me?" asked Percy, "What good would that do?"

"Like you said," explained Toby, "you survived a similar situation. Gordon probably didn't think it over that much, but you obviously have. Your point of view will likely convince him that he's not to blame."

Percy hesitated, but agreed. He went to the shed to find Gordon.

Gordon was still depressed. He was trying to stay in the shadows of the shed, hiding his face. Even though it had long been cleaned off, he thought that others would still be able to see the blood.

Percy backed into the shed next to Gordon.

"Percy?" Gordon was surprised, "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be shunting in the yard?" He still wanted to be alone.

"You're one to ask," Percy replied, "Aren't you supposed to be pulling the express?"

Gordon became glummer, "I'd just kill more people. It'd be best if Sir Topham Hat sold me for scrap."

"Don't talk like that!" Percy snapped. Gordon flinched. He wasn't used to Percy being like this, but Percy had become cross with Gordon's mood, "How many years have you been pulling the express?"

"Uh, a long time," Gordon stammered, "I've lost count of the years."

"And how many people have died because they were standing on the rails as you rushed by?" Percy demanded.

"One," Gordon said glumly.

"Gordon, that seems like a pretty good record to me. Hell, it's outstanding." Percy calmed down a little and became gentler in his speech, "Do you remember the time you almost crashed into me?"

Gordon remembered, "Yes. You were quick enough to start moving before I ran you over, too."

"That's not at all what happened," Percy retorted, "My wheels were slipping on the rails. I could've been smashed if you hadn't put on your brakes as soon as you did."

Gordon became more depressed, "Then I am dangerous."

"Yes, you are," Gordon was surprised at Percy's calm agreement. Most of the others had given denials as a response, "But you're also careful."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me again; when you saw the warning signal, what did you do?"

"I slowed down, of course," replied Gordon, "and I started whistling."

"Right," said Percy, "you were preparing to stop suddenly. When you saw that young man on the rails, what did you do?"

"I whistled and shouted loudly at him, and put on my brakes," Gordon became sadder, "If only I'd seen him sooner…."

"Stop that!" snapped Percy. It infuriated him that Gordon was feeling so sorry for himself, "You put on your brakes as soon as you saw him. You tried to warn him. You were going slower before you stopped! You did all you could do. Anyone in their right mind would've gotten off the rails before getting hit under those conditions."

Percy took a deep breath, "The same thing happened when you almost hit me. You put on your brakes as soon as you saw me, and you just managed to stop a just in front of me. But if I'd been smashed, it would've been my fault."

Gordon was surprised, "How would it have been your fault? I would've crushed you."

"Yes," agreed Percy, "But I was allowing you to crush me. It was my inattentiveness that almost caused that accident. I'd forgotten to whistle to the signalman, so he didn't know to set the switches for me. The same applies to that young man you killed."

"It does?" Gordon didn't completely understand, but he was amazed that Percy was starting to make sense.

"Yes. He was dancing on the rails, drunk. The loud music his friends were playing prevented him from hearing your whistle. If anything, it was his friends' and his own fault that he died. You did everything you could to prevent the accident, he didn't."

Gordon thought hard on it. Percy had some valid points, "I think I see what you're saying, little Percy, but I need to think this over."

Percy smiled to himself. He knew that Gordon's ego was returning by his use of the word little. "Very well. As for me, I have some freight cars to attend to." He puffed out of the shed and left Gordon to his thoughts.

The next day, Percy and Toby were gathering coaches for the express. There was no sign of Gordon as usual.

"I suppose Henry will have to take it again today," Toby sighed, "I take it you didn't have any luck with Gordon?"

"I don't know," answered Percy. He was starting to regret the way he'd treated Gordon. He'd been rather angry, after all.

But as Henry was coming around the side of the express, they heard a familiar whistle. Poop! Poop!

The passengers were surprised, but when they saw Gordon backing into the express, they cheered.

"I'll take care of this today, Henry," he said.

Henry smiled broadly, "That's fine by me, Gordon."

"Percy?" Gordon asked, "It's been a while. Will you please go around to the back of the train and help me get started? You seem to know how to push me forward."

Percy smiled, "Absolutely, Gordon," he said as he went around to the back.

"Thank you," Gordon responded, "Thank you for everything."

The conductor blew his whistle, and Percy pushed as Gordon pulled. Gordon took the express out of the station and sped along the main line. For the first time in days, the express was a spectacle to those who watched it rush by, pulled by Gordon the big engine.