The next three days on the ship were rather boring, and it was beginning to take a toll on Frieda. Not much had happened, except for the occasional seagull that would land on her, which annoyed her to no end. But, with her firebox out, she couldn't whistle at them. It was quite entertaining for me. In fact, I was laughing at one that had landed on her now.

"Verschwinde!" Frieda shouted, hoping that the seagull would listen. I snickered quietly, but Frieda still heard it. "Do you think zees eez amusing?!" she snapped. I shrugged, smiling.

"A little?" I said. As if on cue, the seagull took of, but not before dropping a little white present on Frieda's gleaming blue paint. Frieda's eye twitched as she look like she was going to explode.

"Du elender Vogel!" she screeched as the bird flew away. Then she turned her anger to me. "Vhy don't you make yourself useful fohr vonce, und clean zis off?! You useless man!" she snapped. I stopped laughing, and looked at her.

"Really? Make myself useful for once? Do you think I do nothing to help you, or anyone? Where do you think you'd be without me, huh? Ask yourself that the next time you think I'm useless, you ungrateful woman!" I snapped back, before heading for the stairs that lead below deck.

"Anon, v-vait!" I heard Frieda call. But I ignored her, and continued below deck.

"The nerve she has, to call me useless, and treat me like I'm nothing but a worker." I muttered to myself as I entered the sleeper coach. I lay back on the fold out bed, and let the gentle rocking of the freighter help relax me.

Being confined on the ship with very little to do was beginning to take its toll on both of us, and it was beginning to show. The little things were beginning to irritate us. After a few minutes, I felt Frieda's voice prod my mind.

P-Please, Anon. I did not mean eet! she said. I scowled, and closed off my mind as best I could. I was quite sore with her. I had never been one to take insults well, but that was never typically a problem, since the Sudrian people were friendly.

Do not talk to me. I said, before ignoring her further pleas.

. . .

A few hours later, and the foghorn of the freighter startled me from my thoughts. I looked out the window, and saw land. The ship appeared to be docking. America had finally arrived!

I went through the cargo hold, and onto the upper deck. I walked to the side of the ship, and saw that it was indeed America. As the ship docked, I felt out of place. This was a foreign world to me.

The ramps came down, and I got off the ship. I stood idly by, waiting for Frieda to be unloaded. The crane worked back and forth, moving large shipping containers, and other things. Frieda had stopped trying to talk to me a while ago, so I was waiting to see if she was really sorry for what she had said. The two of us had never had a fight before, but she had finally figured out that I just needed some space after one.

After a half hour, the ships foghorn blew, and it began to slowly move forwards, exhaust erupting from its stack.

"H-Hey, wait a minute!" I said, quickly running towards the ship. Neither Frieda, or the sleeper coach had been unloaded.

Frieda, stop them! Tell someone you're getting off here! I screamed in my mind.

Zer is no von here! I cannot blow my vistle! Vhy haf zey not unloaded me?! she cried back. I ran to the edge of the dock. A man ran next to me.

"What's wrong?" he asked. I frantically looked at him.

"There was an engine on that ship that was supposed to get off here! I'm with her!" I said. The man's eyes widened.

"What?! We can't stop the ship now! It's already out of port. The engine will have to be unloaded at the next dock, in New York! It will take it at least two more days to get there!" he exclaimed. I steadied myself.

"And where am I, exactly?" I asked.

"San Francisco, California. About as far from New York as you can get here. Three thousand miles away." he said.

"WHAT!? All of my belongings were on that ship! Including my passport!" I screeched. The man looked down.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do!" the man said. After a about ten minutes of thinking, he suddenly looked as if he remembered something. "Wait! There's a train going to New York. It's making a special coast to coast run! You could take it!" he said. I looked at him.

"With what money?! It was on the ship!" I asked. The man frowned.

"The controller of this railway is a friend of mine. Quick, we can go find him. He'll be sure to help!" the man said, jogging off. I quickly made haste, following him. But not before calling out to Frieda.

Don't worry Frieda, I will find you! You're being dropped off in New York! I said. But I got no response. I looked around, and saw that the ship was already gone.

She may not have heard me.

. . .

I explained my entire story to the American controller, who was happy to help.

"We have a special once a year train running from here in San Francisco, California all the way to New York, New York. It's the fastest way to get there besides flying. The train averages a speed of ninety miles per hour, and makes stops only for coal and water." he said. I nodded.

"Right, but my money was on the ship! I can't possibly pay for it." I said, feeling defeated. The controller thought.

"You say you're the driver of the engine you're trying to find. Our primary driver for this trip is ill, and has been for a few days. We've been trying to find another, but haven't been successful. This goes against protocol and most rules, but... if you can go and assist the locomotive making the run... you can ride for free. We can have someone else make the trip back." he suggested. I perked up.

"Really?! But... crap. I only know how to drive a steamer. Diesel's are beyond foreign to me." I said. The controller smiled.

"Well, you're in luck then, because the locomotive making the trip is a steamer, one of the most beautiful and fastest ever built. She's been nicknamed 'The Queen of Steam', and usually makes runs from here to Los Angeles, or to the Central states, but she always pulls the once a year coast to coast." he said. I was thrilled.

"Oh, that's perfect! Thank you so much! When does it leave?!" I asked.

"It leaves tomorrow. The trip takes three days, and passes through Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinoiss, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and ends in New York. It runs on the Amtrak line, mostly. Are you sure you're up for that? It's 3,400 miles of hot and dirty work. The shifts between you and the night driver rotate every ten hours. The non-working staff sleeps in the sleeper car." the controller replied. I nodded.

"Anything. I will do anything to get her back. We are lost without each other. We're bonded." I said, showing the American controller my Rider icon. He raised his eyebrows.

"Now I understand why you're so eager to get to her. Don't worry, you will. I'll even call the New York dock, and have them hold her there when she arrives. What is the engines name, and what does she look like?" he asked, a pen and paper in his hand.

"Frieda. She's a DB Class 10, blue with red wheels, and also has a paint matching sleeper coach with her. That's what has all of my belongings in it." I said. The controller nodded.

"DB Class 10, huh? A one of a kind German steamer. What in the world is she doing all the way over here?" he asked. I sighed.

"It's a long and sad story. Just know that we need a place to finally call home, since we were forced from ours." I said. The controller nodded.

"Alright, I will. When you meet up with her, give this number a call." he said, handing me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. I nodded.

"Right. Is there somewhere I can stay until tomorrow?" I asked. The controller thought.

"The only place I can offer is a small Motel a few blocks away. I can put you up for the night, if you'd like. The owner owes me a favor anyway." he said finally. I shook his hand.

"Thank you so much! Really, this will mean more than you'll ever know." I said. The controller smiled.

"Of course. I want to give America a good impression on you, because if I don't, you might not find it so perfect. Be here tomorrow at eight. That's when the coastal train leaves. Actually, get here at seven. We'll need to get you acquainted with the engine, the people you'll be working with." he said. I nodded.

"I'll be here."

. . .

That night, I lay awake in the bed of my motel room. A motel was basically like a very tiny apartment room, with absolutely no fancy anythings. Just a bed, a shower, and a TV, more or less. My mind turned to Frieda.

How could I possibly sleep, knowing that she was on a ship somewhere, alone, and probably frightened out of her mind? She may not have even heard me tell her my plan.

Tears fell down my face as I realized that the last time I had actually spoken to her, it was with anger. And over what? A stupid, pointless little hashing due to stressed nerves between the two of us.

"Frieda... I'm sorry..." I whispered through my tears. I envisioned her on the ship, all alone, with no one to tell her what was going on, or what would happen. Alone on a ship, thousands of miles away from anything she was familiar with. Not knowing if she'd ever see me again.

It must have been terrible...

The world was a very large area. The odds of the two of us finding each other again in an unknown country were slim. Especially since Frieda was bound to her rails.

I lay awake for hours, letting unpleasant thoughts of Frieda and my future run through my mind.

What would happen if I couldn't find her? What would happen if I got to New York, and she wasn't there?

What would happen if I didn't make it to New York? Trains were mostly mechanical. They could break down. Who knows what kind of shape this engine I'd be going with was in. I knew next to nothing about American engines, except that most of them were big and powerful.

As I turned over, I told myself that everything would be fine, and I'd make it no matter what.

After all, how different could an American Steamer really be from what I was used to?

. . .

I woke up early the next morning, and yawned. I had barely slept. Mostly because I couldn't stop worrying about Frieda, but also partially because of the time difference between Sodor and... California, the controller had said? I stood, and stretched.

The Motel bed also hadn't been the comfiest thing in the world, but it was better than sleeping on the floor. I decided to skip the shower after seeing the state of the tub, and walked outside. The daylight was just beginning to make itself known. I walked to the edge of the parking lot, and looked around.

Most of the cars in the parking lot were quite different. Large trucks that barely fit into the parking spaces, large sedans with fancy looking words on them, and even a massive SUV. All of which were larger than what I was used to on Sodor. But there were some compact vehicles as well that were closer to what I was used to. I looked up at the horizon.

Several sky high buildings were in the distance, and an absolutely MASSIVE suspension bridge hung in the air, leading off over the ocean. It was gorgeous. There was also much noise. America was much, MUCH more different than I had imagined. It seemed much bigger, and busier than Sodor. I walked back inside, and glanced at the clock on the Motel room's wall.

It was six thirty. I decided to start heading towards the San Francisco train yard, where I would be meeting the engine I'd be spending the next 3,400 miles with.

. . .

When the American controller saw me, he smiled.

"Sleep well?" he asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Hardly. The time difference is bizarre, and I couldn't stop worrying about Frieda." I said quietly. The controller smiled.

"I've never been a Rider, but believe me when I say we will get the two of you reunited. You can count on that. The coast to coast Express is never late." he said. I sighed.

"I know, I know. Just worrying about what she might be going through right now. We didn't exactly part on good terms." I said. The controller nodded.

"I see. Well, sometimes all one needs to recover from an argument is a few days apart. It helps both parties realize how much they mean to each other." he said. I agreed, even thought I already knew how much Frieda meant to me.

"So, lets get you acquainted with your engine. She's outside, filling up with coal, water, and oil. She's an oil burning engine, so she runs pretty clean. But you'll still get plenty dirty. She's quite the smoker, after all. The big engine's always are." he said. I shrugged.

"That's okay with me. I don't mind a little hard, dirty work." I said. The controller smiled.

"Excellent! Follow me." he said, walking outside. I followed him into a train yard, where several diesels were milling about, rumbling loudly. They were much larger than the diesels on Sodor, even larger than Diesel 10!

"She's right over here." the controller said, walking around a parked box car. Even the freight cars in America were larger than the ones on Sodor. It seemed as if everything in America was bigger. I rounded the corner, and stopped, my jaw hanging open.

I knew that American engines were designed differently from the Sudrian engines,and much larger... but good lord...