Chapter 49:
At long last, Christmas Eve had arrived to the Island. The railway was quite busy as last-minute gifts were loaded and unloaded from special mail trains and visitors flooded the express and passenger trains.
Gordon was enjoying himself greatly. After over a month of sitting alone in the shed, desperate for a bit of excitement, Ted Brigham had finally appealed to Topham to get him out on the line again. With Henry scared of the snow now, he was back to pulling the express, and pulled quickly out of the big station of Knapford with a particularly full train due for Vicarstown.
"How have you dealt with the past month anyway Gordon?" Ted asked as they thundered past the town of Knapford's furthest reaches.
"I haven't. I've begged every single one of the other engines to pull me out or find something for me to do." Gordon replied.
Ted laughed, though Gordon wasn't making a joke. He'd really had next-to nothing to do for the entire month except listen, mournfully, as the other engines talked about their days work. His one happy spot had come from a frozen little Sunday School class that had come caroling to him alone one evening, but that too had quickly faded into memory. He was just glad to be back out on the tracks.
At Wellsworth he stopped beside Edward, and whistled loudly in delight. "Edward! How are you old boy?" He asked.
"Wonderful!" Edward replied gleefully. "Christmastime always makes me happy, and I'm glad to see you're back out on the tracks!"
"Being the fastest engine on the island is essential to get the express done on Christmas day!" Gordon replied with no humility.
"Ah ha." Edward rolled his eyes. "You've been talking to James recently, haven't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Gordon asked, but had no time to hear a response as the guard blew his whistle and sent the Wild Nor' Wester on it's way again. "EXPRESS COMING THROUGH!" Gordon shouted triumphantly, and sped off down the main line.
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Meanwhile, on the branchline, Percy and Toby were being slowly awoken by Jim Hugh, Ivo's brother who'd taken over the Firelighter job, and yawned as they looked over the bright snow. "Where's Thomas?" Toby sleepily asked.
"Mr. Hardy already took him down the line early this morning." Jim told him. "I think they had some special early job to do."
"I wonder what that'd be?" Percy asked aloud, but his thoughts were muddled by the far more prominent problem on his mind. The night before (as detailed in the previous chapter) he'd found himself figuratively on his knees in prayer to whatever deity created living engines. He'd expected nothing from it, but in the night, something unusual had happened. Percy had had a dream. Or more specifically, a Nightmare
Engines don't have dreams normally. For some reason, they simply relive memories in their sleep rather than envision strange worlds like others might. Through the night, Percy hadn't seen the past. He'd seen what seemed like the future. His dream was short and simple. He'd dreamt that he'd refused to ask Hatt to keep the Scots, and Edward said that he would instead- Percy dreamt that Edward had fallen ill and was unable to ask Topham, and Topham had been forced to send one of the twins to the dreaded Isle of Man, where they were scrapped. The remaining twin became depressed for weeks on end, before finally stopped speaking, breathing, and became non-sentient like the Marklin Engine.
It was an awful vision, but it stuck with Percy. He was convinced now in his naivety and terror from the night vision that it was now his job alone to be the Depravation, or something like that.
"You alright Percy?" Neil O'Heart asked as he arrived at the sheds. "You look a little scared."
"He's had a strange night." Toby wisely put. "He sat out in the snow too long last night I think, then had a bad night of shakin' and moaning. Sounds like he recalled some pretty bad memories." Percy nodded as Toby and Crovan Alderich drove off into the yards, and he was left alone with his driver.
Neil looked at his engine with interest. "You don't talk much about your past." Neil remarked, and Percy nodded again. "I mean, I've told you all about my family and the things I've done. My parents and Sister are hardly a part of my life, I've slept with countless women, I've done some stupid things, but you don't talk much about your past. I only know you worked on the GWR and that Hatt pulled you out of a shoddy works back in England."
Percy shook a little as he breathed in. "I don't remember most of my past." he sighed. "That's part of why I'm so terrified to go back to that shop. I don't want to forget Sodor like I've forgotten so much while there."
Neil looked at Percy, who refused to meet his gaze. "I won't let that happen." He promised.
"That's kind of you Neil," Percy replied determinedly. "But I know now that I'm not the one in danger of being sent home."
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James was at the platform of Knapford waiting for his coaches. He was due to pull a train to Kirk Ronan shortly, and his passengers were congregated on the platform, waiting as well. "Where is that blasted bird of an engine?" James shouted, exasperated.
"Easy there Big Red." Duck laughed, bumping James harder than he should have with the coaches. "I'm always here, why should you be so huffy about a minute's delay?"
"Because Sir Topham Hatt expects the North Western Railway to run on time!" James snapped back. "Time's time, Hatt expects us to keep it!"
"Look here Fire-truck." Duck replied. "There's two ways of doing things. I won't bother you with the phrase, you know it as well as I. But The Great Western Way says I'm not late till the clock says I'm late. Now what does the clock say, James?"
Geoffrey Black laughed from inside James's cab, but James had to admit that Duck was right here. They weren't late yet, and he was yelling for no reason. "Oh go Quack at the trucks why don't you?" James snapped, and blew his whistle to say he was ready to leave.
Duck hummed and laughed a short and haughty. There was one thing he stood very little for, and that was mockery of his bird-related name. But he knew how to get under James' skin- or whatever passed for that gray mass of a face. "You know Douglas tells me you've been talking up a storm about their paint color." He teased. "Funny, considering how the record shows that you were once painted black."
Duck slipped out the back of the station as James shouted an angry and crushing response, or at least, he told himself it was a crushing response. Sir Topham Hatt stepped out of his office and gave James a warning look before the red engine set off, and behind him Topham found another unwelcome sight.
Jerry Jingle, who'd seemed to be MIA for the past month, was sitting casually on a bench on the opposite platform, numbered 6. He didn't look Hatt's direction, nor pull out a notebook to take note of James' insults, but simply sat, staring off toward Tidmouth with a sort of blank smirk.
Topham closed the door, not wanting to give the reporter an opportune moment. Instead he looked to his desk, where the months-old and unopened newspaper lay on his desk, the reporter's name glaring at him from the front cover. He was almost tempted to open the paper when there was a knock at his office door. "Come in." He called, and Neil O'Heart stepped inside the office. "Neil, what can I do for you?" He asked.
"Oh nothing for me, thank you though." Neil replied. "Percy has something to ask of ya."
Topham stepped back onto the platform and found the little caterpillar engine there, practically shaking where he stood. Hatt approached the scared engine and looked him in the eyes. "Well Percy?"
"Please Sir." Percy squeaked. "Sir I want to ask something sir. If you could, Sir, I want… well, Sir, the other engines asked me to, sir, and I-"
"What is it Percy?" Topham asked again, tired of the stuttering.
"Well Sir, Edward says we needed- needed a Desp-eration? no, Disputation?" Percy faltered again, but looked back to Hatt. "Sir, where us engines ask you, sir, to do something we think is for the better, sir."
"Percy, I think you've called me Sir 14 times in the last sentence. What is it?"
"Sir, we don't want you to send Donald and Douglas away." Percy sighed, and the shaking ceased suddenly. "We engines think it's best if you keep them both here on Sodor, regardless of what some stupid reporters might say. Uh, sir."
Percy kept an almost defiantly brave face as he said this, surprising both Topham and Neil. Hatt wasn't sure what to think of the sudden appeal from his engines. He nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to his office, confused.
"Well that went well." Neil remarked. "He didn't yell, I think you almost scared him!" Neil laughed, but Percy was unsure what do think as the Fat Controller wandered back into his office alone.
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"Thank you Terrence!" Thomas called to the tractor, who was busy clearing snow from the Cottage by Hackenbeck- The Kyndley residence.
"Clearing snow seems to be all I do for you, eh Thomas?" Terrence smiled.
Snow had fallen heavily in the night, and Bob was determined to help the Kyndleys (One of whom was his love, after all) come to the Christmas Party that night. Thomas and Bob had cleared their schedule for the morning, and Hatt had approved of the plan, so Thomas had left early that day with a flatbed to pick up Terrence, and then brought the tractor and his driver here. Bob Hardy and Chloe Kyndley were currently within the cottage, helping the elderly Mrs. Kyndley get ready for the day, and Farmer Finney was shoveling her walkway where Terrence wouldn't fit.
"Isn't it wonderful that Bob will go to all this trouble to help out someone he loves?" the old farmer chuckled.
"Sometimes I think he goes too far, but what would I know?" Thomas remarked.
The place was soon clear, and Terrence was gently pulled back onto the flatbed. Bob returned to his engine as they took the farmer and tractor to Knapford, and picked up Annie and Clarabel while there. It was time for his usual passenger train, but with a different catch this time. He stopped as usual at Dryaw, Elsbridge and Maithwaite, but before reaching Hackenbeck, he stopped once more at the cottage to pick up the two Kyndleys.
"It does feel good to help another out, doesn't it Thomas?" Annie said as the ladies boarded her.
"Tonight's party will be wonderful I think, unlike last year's party." Clarabel stated.
"Godred, don't remind me of the mess." Annie shuddered at the memory.
"Half of us were still depressed over Henry's departure." Clarabel reminded. "And poor Toby got so lost he ended up in Brendam Bay instead of Knapford!"
"This year cannot possibly be any worse than last year's." Thomas agreed. "It will be grand!"
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Donald and Douglas, having been working hard to keep the line clear all morning, were now on their way back down the main line to Knapford. Donald led, with a Work's coach between them and Douglas facing backwards, each with their massive and well-worn snowplows attached. They hardly spoke, exhausted from the work, till they stopped in Crovan's Gate for water.
"Th's sno'sn't any worse tha ay wus 'n Scotland!" Donald remarked.
"Bu' we dinnae haf as fa'h t' clear back 'n Scotland." Douglas reminded his brother. "Sodur's mainlin' 's ma'ch bigga' than whaer we work'd back 'ome."
"At least you boyos have snowplows!" Called a voice from near the station. "It's been so long since we could keep this line clear."
"Och! Whoo's thaer?" Donald shouted.
"You needn't shout, It's only little old me." The voice replied. Donald scanned the station, searching for it's owner. "Down here scottie." Donald looked over and discovered Skarloey sitting on his line, loading passengers into his coaches. "Hey, you found me!"
"Oo're'you?" Donald asked.
"Wha's goin' on up thaer?!" Douglas demanded from behind, unable to see ahead to the little engine.
"M'name's Skarloey." Skarloey replied. "Interesting, have you never seen one of us littler engines here?"
"Me'n me brotha' pass by ev'ry dae 'n Lord knows I 'aven't seen ye." Donald replied. "Yer tiny! I've naught even noticed yon tracks!"
Skarloey laughed a little, and Douglas bumped the coach between them protesting. "'Oo is it?" Douglas demanded again.
"I's a narrow-gauge engine named Ska'lowy, Douggie!" Donald shouted back. "Now shut it so I can 'ear 'im speak!"
"Hello Douggie." Skarloey teased. "Twin engines, eh? Reminds me of some engines that used to run on the Mid-Sodor, but they're long gone. Keeping busy?"
"Eh, this snow's killin' me wheels, tha's all." Donald would have shrugged if he had shoulders. Baird Williams jumped inside his cab and let up on the Driver's brake to let them set off. "Well, noice t' mee'cha Ska'lowy, Ay'll keep 'n eye out fer' ya nez' time I pass, alright?"
"Goodbye gents!" Skarloey replied, and the twin engines passed.
Douglas finally got a look at Skarloey as they passed. "Och, wha' a li''le thing!"
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Much later that day, Knapford Station was decorated beautifully. Christmas trees and lights had already been strung up for the holiday traffic, but now there was more set up than before, and Alfred the workman was hanging a large Christmas star from the front of the station's glass roof.
"A little to the left Alfred!" Duck suggested as he worked.
Just then, Thomas pulled in with Annie and Clarabel. He wheeshed steam at Alfred, frightening him into knocking the star from its perch down onto the tracks below. Thomas laughed to himself, but Annie and Clarabel gasped.
"Thomas!" Duck chastized.
"What?" Thomas snickered in reply. "I'm sorry, but Alfred's not hurt, and the silly star isn't broken either, what's the big deal?"
"That star is the Star of Knapford." Bob explained, disembarking his engine alongside the passengers. "Old stories say it has wishing powers, that those who believe in the magic of Christmastime will be granted one wish by it."
"Oh, that's just a copy of the Legend of Proteus!" Duck snapped. "I don't care if it's got powers or not, it's still a pretty thing, I don't want it damaged!"
"Godred, sorry! Sorry." Thomas apology was forced and exasperated, but no one pushed him any more. Bob went to help Alfred hang the star again as Gordon pulled in from Tidmouth, preparing for the last Express before Christmas. "Evening Gordon, how are you?"
"Never better Thomas! I feel so alive, back on the tracks like this!" Gordon responded with huzzah. "This is the last train of the night, and I intend to make it the fastest yet!"
"You'd better be quick if you want to make it back in time for the Christmas Party!" Duck reminded as he pushed the Wild Nor' Wester Coaches into place behind Gordon. "I'm quite excited to see what's in store tonight!"
"So long as it's better than last year." Thomas reminded.
"Ugh. Don't remind me Thomas." Gordon shuddered. Ted Brigham climbed aboard the Express engine and there was an awkward moment of silence as Thomas watched. Ted Brigham's history of a driver was spotless, but how he'd gotten to this point was tainted with the tragedies of the railway. After all, he was only hired after Old Bailey's death, and now was working with Gordon as a result of Charlie Sand's firing. Two of the original three drivers, at least from Thomas's point of view, were now in a way replaced by Ted Brigham. "Express coming through!" Gordon shouted, and he set off into the rapidly darkening sky.
"Guests will be here soon, can you help me clear the yards a little for the party Thomas?" Duck requested.
"Just pushing the troublesome trucks into Tidmouth Yards instead, right?" Thomas confirmed.
"That's what the Fat Controller asked for." Duck nodded, and the two of them rolled into the sidings.
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(Hi all. This one cuts off a bit too quickly but here's the situation. On my Google Docs where I write these, I usually make these chapters 6 pages long. Well, this christmas Chapter was pushing past 12, so I've split it up. Here's what I'm going to do. This chapter is a set-up for next time, where I will show the actual party and the results thereof, and I'll release that one probably tomorrow. Then I will do one short episode on either the 25 or 26 that I will show the engine's Christmas morning and give you all a taste of what's to come, as well as I'll answer the reviewers questions there. Thanks for sticking with my story, Sorry this one's gotten weird. All questions and suggestions in the reviews, I'll get back to you as promised in episode 51.
Till next time: Hunter.