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Charity Coach
Written by TheBuriedTruck
Proofread and Corrected by Broa Island & BNSF1995
Isle of Sodor: 1994
One summer's day, Edward was bringing trucks from the docks. As he neared the Vicarage Orchard, he saw Trevor, resting in the shade of an apple tree. He whistled gaily, but noticed that Trevor looked exhausted!
"Dear me, Trevor! What's the matter?"
"I've been running myself ragged," he wheezed. "The Vicar's been hosting charity events to raise funds for the Sunday school. I bring visitors to the church in the morning, help with the day's events, then take them home at night. It's a wonder I haven't broken down!"
"No one can say you don't work hard," smiled Edward, "but why can't Bertie bring the visitors instead?"
"Road construction," huffed Trevor, "cars and buses can't get through. We end up driving through fields to get back to the orchard."
Edward pondered the situation.
"Tell you what - I'll have a word with the Fat Controller. You'll do a number on yourself if you keep this up all summer!"
"Oh, thank you Edward, but you're busy enough as it is. I'd hate to bother the Fat Controller at a time like this. I'll manage, I promise."
Edward whistled goodbye, but couldn't help worrying.
Poor Trevor, he thought, there MUST be a way I can help.
Edward brought his trucks to Tidmouth Hault. He'd just arrived at the water tower when he heard a voice.
"Hello, dear."
It was Maggie! Otherwise known as Old Slow Coach!
"Hello! Enjoying your time by the beach?" replied Edward.
"It is lovely here," she sighed, "but the construction will be done soon. I won't be much good as a workman's hut if there's no one to stay in me. What if I'm not useful anymore? I don't want to go back to the scrapyard."
"Nonsense!" said Edward, "the Fat Controller would never let that happen!"
"I'm not like these modern coaches," she continued, "what place do I have here?"
"From one 'old-timer' to another," smiled Edward, "you have nothing to worry about. There is a place for you on this railway - I know it."
Edward puffed off with a heavy mind - he was still pondering about Trevor, and now he had two problems to solve!
The weather soon changed, and for the next few days, it rained hard. The engines struggled through the gloomy weather. Eventually, the storm clouds parted, and the sun shone once more. Trevor was on his way to collect more visitors. He was passing over the level crossing when - CRACK! Jem Cole looked back.
"Crumbs!" he exclaimed, "we've broken a wheel on the cart! Now what will we do?"
There wasn't time to think - a pair of whistles filled the air. Jem went pale, grabbed a flag and darted up the line.
The whistles belonged to Bill and Ben, bringing a train of China Clay up the line! The heavy trucks and damp rails were making the twins agitated.
"Hurry up, Bill," scowled Ben, "or I might as well take the train myself!"
Bill was about to reply when he spotted a red flag waving frantically ahead!
"Stop Ben, stop!" he cried.
The twins' brakes screeched, but their wheels slipped on the damp rails. The silly trucks didn't help either - they banged their buffers and forced the train on! The cart came into view, and Bill shut his eyes!
CRASH!
Splintered wood lay everywhere! Trevor wasn't hurt, but the cart was beyond repair.
When Edward arrived to help clear the mess, the twins were bickering furiously.
"A real smart manoeuvre you pulled there, Bill!"
"Humph! And you thought you could take the train yourself - you couldn't even slow us down!"
"We think you were both to blame!" giggled the trucks - but no one paid any attention to them!
"Settle down, you two," frowned Edward, "let's just be thankful Trevor and Mr. Cole are unharmed."
The twins subsided at once - they were certainly thankful for that!
The Vicar had come too, and was most distraught at what he saw.
"No cart means no visitors," he sighed. "I'm going to have to cancel the fundraiser now."
The twins suddenly looked very shame-faced! "We're sorry!" they said.
"It was only an accident," said Edward, "though this certainly is a problem for the Vicar."
Later, Edward told the others what happened.
"I'm worried - these charity events mean so much to the Vicar."
"Poor Trevor," sighed Penny, "I'm glad he's not hurt."
"What do you mean 'poor Trevor'?" snorted James, "he's a danger to the road!"
"It wasn't Trevor's fault," fumed Henry, but the other engines wouldn't listen.
"He should stay in the orchard," grumbled Gordon, "It's shocking he's even allowed to carry passengers, what with how old and slow he is."
"That's it!" cried Edward "Gordon, you're brilliant!" and he hurried away without another word.
"Of COURSE I am," Gordon called.
The next day, Old Slow Coach was dozing in the sun when she heard a familiar whistle. There was Edward - with the Fat Controller!
"Good morning," she smiled sweetly.
"I'd like to thank you for giving our workmen a place to sleep," the Fat Controller began. "As you know, their job here is almost finished..."
Old Slow Coach's face fell. "Yes, Sir. When will I be taken back to the scrap yard?"
"Scrap yard?" laughed the Fat Controller, "Perish the thought! You're far too important to be scrapped. The Vicar needs help bringing people to his charity events at the orchard - and you are perfect for the job."
"I'd be honoured to have you on my branch line," added Edward, "if you'd like to, of course."
Old Slow Coach's eyes lit up!
"Oh, thank you! I'd love to!"
And so it was arranged. The Fat Controller had a small halt built near the Vicarage. Edward and Old Slow Coach took passengers to the halt in the morning, and brought them home again when the day was done. The charity events were a great success, and the Vicar and Trevor were most thankful for the funds raised. Coach was happier than ever, and could think of no place she'd rather be than the Brendam Branch Line!