Chapter 7: Sick

But regret hit Thomas almost immediately after the fight. His firebox dimmed and his water tank cooled, and he crawled along the line, feeling unworthy to be sharing the rails with more respectable engines.

Some friend I am.

Percy didn't deserve any of that. He had only been trying to give Thomas what he wanted. It wasn't Percy's fault that Thomas couldn't just spit out the truth.

If it turned out that Mira liked Percy more, Thomas couldn't blame her.

His crew, who were present for the argument, could no longer hide their curiosity. "What was that all about?" His driver asked. "Did you and Percy have a fallout?"

Thomas wanted to make something up, but he was too miserable to pretend to still be angry. Finally, he let out a long sigh and a steamy hiss. "Can you two keep a secret?"

"If you're confessing to trouble," said his driver with a scowl beneath his mustache, "then you might as well come out with it."

"Oh, knock off the cutthroat headmaster routine for a minute, would you?" the fireman scolded.

"You haven't known Thomas for as long as I have," the driver defended firmly. He shifted a mildly distrusting gaze at Thomas, and the engine wasn't offended. His naughty past had earned him that.

But the soot covered fireman ignored him, and gave Thomas a wry smile. "What would there be if there wasn't Engine-Operator confidentiality?"

Thomas gave a weary smile back. If there was anybody he could trust, it was his crew. His driver had been the same man since he was first brought to the railway, and his fireman came not too long after. And they had been responsible for his health and welfare ever since.

Not long after crossing the viaduct, the engine pulled onto a siding, where the grass was plush, and still shimmering with morning dew.

His driver and fireman stepped out of the cab and stood at Thomas's front side. And there is where Thomas began to tell the story. The men listened with compassionate interest as he explained the reasons for the way he had been behaving lately.

"Ever since Mira came to the island, I haven't been myself," Thomas explained. "I've lost my temper, snapped at my friends, and made a fool out of myself. How I'd like to blame it on Spring Fever, but I'm afraid it's more than that."

His driver and fireman looked at each other slack jawed, before suddenly, they both burst into laughter.

"W-What's so funny?" Thomas asked, unsure if he should feel surprised or indignant. This was a serious problem, and the men were making light of it.

"Spring fever isn't an illness, you silly engine," the driver chuckled. "It's just an expression for the restlessness that happens to a fellow this time of year. It's a good thing!"

"But you're definitely sick over something," his fireman noted. "Sick with love. So what those rutty, good-for-nothin' cars said was true. By George! Didn't know you had it in you, boy! Our Thomas, infatuated!"

Thomas's cheeks burned, but his boiler was beginning to cool with relief. "So, I'm okay?"

"Of course," his driver answered with a laugh. "It's all good and normal. Though," he removed his cap and scratched the side of his head. "Color me surprised to learn that an engine could develop attraction."

Thomas could tell by way of his tone that there was a good reason for that, but decided that it was best not to ask. At least for now.

"Even more normal to have the urge to impress the girl that you fancy," the fireman added. "Sometimes love inspires some not-so-wise behavior. Ahem—" He adjusted the tie around his neck. "I believe your driver could speak from personal experience on the matter."

"Oh, be off with you!" the other man replied, his gold wedding band flashing in the sunlight as he swiped his hand. "At least I don't go gallivanting around a fire in front of a dozen engines and their crews, with a woman I barely know."

The unmarried fireman could only shrug. "Courtship takes many forms."

Thomas smiled from buffer to buffer. "This is great! T-t-this means I can just find Mira and explain the situation! I—"

But the driver and fireman looked at each other, and shook their heads.

"What—why not?" asked Thomas.

"Well, it's not a good idea," his fireman told him. "A confession like this will put the poor girl on the spot."

"And besides that," his driver said, slowly and considerately, "Mira isn't here forever. If you get your hopes up, you'll only be more miserable when she has to leave."

"B-but I thought if we were still short staffed when the others come home…!" Thomas trailed off. Only when he said it out loud did he realize how much of a long shot it was.

The men were absolutely correct, of course. Even if he confessed how he felt to Mira, it wouldn't change the fact that she didn't belong here. Sir Topham Hatt didn't bring her here under trial, like some of the other engines he decided to keep. She was only here to help out for the spring. Her time on Sodor was finite, and there was nothing Thomas could do about it.

The happiness that the engine felt slipped away, and he let out a pitiful whistle. "I understand," he said sadly.

As he headed back home, he thought over what the men had told him. Thomas still didn't quite understand what an infatuation really was. He'd never had one before this, and none of the other engines on Sodor had experienced something like this either—at least that he was aware of. Perhaps they'd kept it private, too.

Thomas used to think it took time to love somebody, even his friends. But this love was different. The respect and consideration was the same, but he never wanted to be around someone so much, to talk to them, to watch them tease Gordon or talk or whistle or sing or… even sleep.

He wanted Mira to know how he felt about her, to know that he harbored this affection for her. To go into detail about all the crazy thoughts he'd been having these past few days. But it was wrong to give her baggage before leaving, and he knew his driver and fireman were correct when they said it was.

Why do emotions have to be so confusing? Thomas thought bleakly.

He was still feeling glum when he ran into Emily at a station that they shared. He stopped so that his crew could have a restroom break, and she didn't look any happier than Thomas. Her regular coaches were at the works, and Emily was having to deal with a pair of particularly annoying ones. Unlike cars, however, Emily could not shunt and throw them around to assert herself, so she was at their mercy.

This made Thomas grateful Annie and Clarabel's personalities were so benign. "Substitute coaches still giving you a hard time?"

Emily sighed. "It's not the coaches, Thomas."

"Then what's got you so bent out of shape?" the tank engine asked. "You're not the one who got put down by Gordon in front of everybody yesterday." He looked away, annoyed as he remembered. Oh. Yeah. That's a thing that happened. "Of course, things would've gone a lot worse if you hadn't have stuck up for Mira yourself."

Emily groaned. "Hmm… Thomas… about that…" It took her a moment to work up the courage to look him in the eyes. "I'm not too keen on Mira anymore."

"What?" Thomas nearly rocked back on the rails. "Oh, not you, too!" he groaned. "Why?"

"I'm starting to think that she's making up her stories," Emily explained. "She goes on and on all day, weaving incredible tales that become harder and harder to believe, each one topping the next. Some of the details, I dare say, she made up on the spot."

Thomas cocked an eyebrow at her. "What makes you say that?"

"Have you ever seen a fire-breathing dog?" Emily asked. "Or heard of a man with three heads? Or witnessed a steam engine rescue an enormous tender engine by herself?"

"Well, no… But neither of us have ever been farther than the mainland. Who are we to say what's going on out there?"

Emily was stunned. "Are you listening to yourself? It's common sense, Thomas!"

"Is it? Or are you just siding with the majority, now. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd believe you're just jealous."

"I beg your pardon?!"

Thomas didn't believe what he was saying at first, but the more he elaborated, the more it almost began to sound true. "A new lady engine comes to the island, comes to my rescue, pushes three times her weight, and tells stories that entertain everybody. She travels all over the world and sees things that the rest of us will only dream about. Anybody would be jealous of that."

"You don't even know her, Thomas! You've barely spoken to her!"

Thomas didn't appreciate this being pointed out. Especially after just being reminded that Mira's time here had a deadline. "I'm just giving the guest the benefit of the doubt. And if I'm wrong about her," he said, crossly, "It's only because I've barely had the chance to work with her—unlike you."

Emily let out a long, loud hiss in annoyance. "I don't know what's crawled into your tank to make you act this way, but you've bloody lost your mind! You're creating messes, almost causing accidents, being cold to your friends, and you won't look at the facts! It makes me wonder if she's got something over you!

Hitting the sensitive spot, Emily's words made Thomas blush bright red. "Nothing has changed about me! I'm just… just…" but he couldn't think of an excuse.

But sadly for Thomas, Emily, at last, began to catch on. "Wait…. Oh no… Thomas, have you gone sweet on her?"

Thomas's anger drained away, and now, he was only flustered. "N-n-no! What makes you think that—I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about!" It was hard enough to talk about this with his men. He did not want to talk about this with Emily.

"So that's what's going on!" Emily sneered. "That's why you've been acting like such a jackass, isn't it?"

"And what do you care, anyway?" asked Thomas, skeptically. "Why do my blunders concern you?"

"Maybe I'm just trying to look out for you!" Emily shouted back. "Am I not allowed to care about what becomes of my friends?"

"I can look out for myself," Thomas told her, firmly. "I did it before you got here, and I do just fine, now. If you don't want to associate with Mira anymore, that's fine, but I'll forge my own opinion of her, thank you very much. Goodbye, Emily!"

And with an angry toot of his whistle, he chugged away, as fast as he could.

Emily didn't know whether to be angry with him, or pity him. When the steam cleared, she looked onto the horizon mournfully. "Oh, Thomas, you're going to have your heart broken…"

First Gordon, then Percy, and now Emily.

And Emily actually had things to say to make him wonder. What if Mira was lying?

Thomas admitted to himself that those story elements Emily brought up sounded rather fabricated, if he let himself think critically. But he didn't want to believe Mira had made it all up, or for why. And deep down, he was annoyed at Emily for making him doubt her.

At the end of the Ffarquhar station, he dropped off Annie and Clarabel on a siding. He'd take them back to Knapford later tonight for the return route, but he had odd jobs to do in the meantime. He headed for the quarry by his lonesome.

Down the mountain side he traveled, for a long time chuffing by his lonesome. He was getting closer when he noticed the line on his left was blocked.

Down the mountain side he traveled, for a long time chuffing by his lonesome. He was getting closer when he noticed the line on his left was blocked.

"That's odd," Thomas said. "The signal isn't set for danger. What do you think they're stopped for?"

"I don't know," replied his driver. "Let's find out."

Next to a signalman's tower were two lines of tracks. And on the outer line sat a familiar, brown tank engine.

Of all of them, she was the last he expected to run into today. "Mira?" He whistled to alert her that he was coming up from behind.

"Thomas?" she asked, letting out a surprised greeting whistle in return.

Mira's driver hopped out of the cab, her face washed with relief. "Well, if your whistle ain't a sound for sore ears."

Thomas pulled up alongside on the neighboring track. "What's going on?"

"You remember how my fireman was feeling a little weak the day I first got here?" asked Mira. "Well, he sort of… blacked out. Don't know what's wrong with him. My driver went to the signalman to call for a doctor."

"That's awful," Thomas said with a grimace.

"Sounds like that sickness that spread like wildfire at the works wasn't limited to Sodor," the fireman noted. "What else could go wrong?"

And you talk of Spring Fevers as a joke, Thomas rebuked him in his head with an eyeroll.

Both of Thomas's crewmen hopped and rushed in to help Mira's driver carry the weak man out of the heat of the cab, and into the cool signalman's tower.

Now that the engines were left alone, Thomas couldn't help but notice Mira's lack of supervision. "Where's Percy? Shouldn't he be with you?"

"He went off to do his own work. He wanted to stay with me, but I… kinda wanted to be alone… for a while."

Thomas could hear the sadness in her voice. "What's wrong?"

Mira sighed. He'd never seen her look so dejected since she arrived. "Oh, Thomas, where to start… I think I really made an idiot of myself here."

"Are you kidding!" Thomas cried. "Everybody likes you!"

This wasn't true, and he was painfully aware of it. But wasn't it polite to insist this was true, if it only made her feel better?

Of course, Mira saw right through the lie. "Tell that to Emily. She probably hates me as much as Gordon, now."

Gordon. Just hearing that name made Thomas hiss steam all over again. "Pay no mind to him. Gordon hates everybody but himself." It was a bit of an overstatement, to say the least. But at that moment, it felt correct. "You can't let those engines get you down. I was new here once, too, Mira. And so was Emily. She ought to know better than to put you-"

"It's nothing they did!" she cut him off. "I'm mad at myself! The thing is, Thomas, I don't think I'm unwanted around here for no reason."

"I want you," Thomas added firmly. "And… and so does Percy." He gulped. Here it comes. He hated every second of this, but this was where he makes up for being such an awful friend. He worked up his courage, and then spoke. "Look, Mira, it's time to make my own confession. You don't need to say anything-just let me talk. Now, I get that you enjoy working with Percy more."

"What?"

"Sir Topham Hatt comes by tomorrow to decide who you'll stay with for the rest of your contact. Percy really works hard and he enjoys you, too. So… I think you should help with his jobs around the island. H-he has this really nice mail train I think you could—"

"Thomas, stop!" Mira interrupted at last. "What are you talking about?"

Thomas was speechless. He hadn't realized he'd been rambling. Being around another engine for enough time had its effects, and after so many years sharing the sheds with Percy, some of his behavior had rubbed off on Thomas.

"This isn't about Percy, or working, or any of that." Mira sighed. "I heard what Gordon said about me back at the sheds last night. And the truth is, he's not wrong. I am a fraud, Thomas."

"What do you mean?"

"Everywhere I go, I see fantastic things, but... not as fantastic as I make them out to be."

Thomas was lost for words. His voice became hollow as he slowly rattled off the list. "So.. the… fire breathing dog, then?"

"A fire breathing dragon at the medieval fair grounds—pyrotechnics."

"The… man who devoured a sword?"

"A performing artist I saw on the streets. It was just an optical illusion. It really did look like he ate it, but it was just a fancy trick."

Silence followed. The emptiness that Thomas had felt since his fallout with Percy at last reached an ugly head. "You've never seen any of those things." It came out as a statement. Not a question. He knew it was true, now.

Mira was too humiliated to speak.

And then the realization dawned on Thomas. "Not even the… t-the story of the little tank engine who saved her big, tender sister from falling into a river?" It had been one of the only stories Thomas had heard from Mira firsthand. And to think that even that one wasn't true...

"That one was just a story that I heard," Mira explained, a bit of her confidence coming back. "But I changed some parts to it. It could've very well happened, but… not the way I told it. They had a pulley."

More silence. Seagulls squawked in the distance. A large wave crashed somewhere down at the bay. Crickets were out early. And there were no other engines for at least a mile. The world felt so big, suddenly, and they, so small.

"Why would you make that stuff up?" Thomas asked at last.

"I don't know. Sometimes I feel so plain and uninteresting… I mean look at me, Thomas! I'm a stumpy log with a big nose that blows a lot of smoke. And up against you Sodor engines, and your magnificent colors and your beautiful island, I guess I felt… insignificant. I do wherever I go."

Thomas pondered for a minute, and then spoke. "So, why are you telling me this?"

"Well, a couple of reasons," Mira explained. "You're the only one who has barely heard any of my stories firsthand, so I suppose you weren't a victim of my lying. But that also means you weren't given a fair shot at judging me. It's only right that I confess to you, first. You can keep on believing I'm plain and boring, because that's exactly what I am."

"I don't think you're boring at all, Mira. And what you were telling the engines—those weren't all lies! Some of it was exaggeration, or—what was that word my fireman used—? Embellishment! That's it! Mira, we have something in common! We both like to tell stories to entertain the others. Just because they aren't true doesn't mean the stories are bad, and it doesn't make you bad. But you can't pass it off as the truth. You have to give the other engines credit for their doubts."

"I know, I know!" she sighed. "I guess I was just desperate for you to like me." She looked up at him with misery in her eyes. "And now that you know this, I guess you want nothing to do with me. And as soon as I tell Percy, I'm sure he'll feel the same way. But it won't be as hard as telling you. I don't know why, but I feel like I relate to you, Thomas. I feel safe talking to you… owning up about this... I'll still work hard while I'm here—I promise I will—but I won't act like I earned your friendship, when I clearly haven't."

"Mira, you're wrong if you think this makes me not like you anymore. I—"

"Stop! The both of you!" interrupted Thomas's driver. He was the first to emerge from the signalman's tower, and the confused engines watched as he cupped a hand by his ear. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

"Hear what?" Mira asked.

"Hush, Mira—listen," scolded her own driver as she jogged back over to the cab doorway, putting a gloved finger to her lips.

The conversation silenced, the two engines willing their boilers to quiet down as much as possible. Thomas closed his eyes and tried to zone in on the noise in the distance, but between the squalks of the seagulls, the wind in their ears, and the crashing ocean waves of the bay, it was hard to make it out.

Only when the wind stopped did Mira make her conclusion. "It-it sounds like an engine whistle."

Thomas made a more grim realization, however. "No, listen again. That's two whistles." He closed his eyes and tried to sort them from each other. "The shorter one—that's Emily's! And-and the other one… that's Gordon's whistle!"

"But what's Gordon doing way out here, by the bay?" pondered Thomas's fireman. "I thought he had the express at noon."

"No, he didn't!" Thomas's driver recalled. "I spoke with his driver earlier—He swapped jobs with Henry. He had a good's train today!"

Thomas felt a pain like a wire tightening deep inside him, as if this information alone confirmed his worst fears. But the sound made it absolutely certain. "Whistle code: It's trouble."

"Wha—How much?" Mira asked, unfamiliar with the whistle system on Sodor.

"Dire," Thomas confirmed grimly. "W-We have to go."

"Say no more," his driver said, beginning to work Thomas's controls.

"But what can we do? We're just two tank engines!" Mira asked.

Thomas gaped at her, like he was really seeing her for the first time. Her brave facade was washed away, right down to the shake in her normally calm and cool voice, and she suddenly looked like quite a different engine. They weren't on the same brainwave anymore. "Says the engine who saved me back at the quarry days ago," he said with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. But he shook it off and replaced it with determination. "We'll figure out when we get there."

"Until then, we can pass the emergency notice down the line for more help," Thomas's driver added.

Thomas's fireman leaned out of the cab towards Mira's driver. "But wait, Can you…?"

"'Course, I can manage on my own," she told him with a sigh, shrugging as she hopped back into Mira's cab alone. "Practically been doin' both jobs myself all week, anyhow."

After alerting the signalman to what they had heard, the remaining crewmembers of the engines tucked inside their respective cabs. Soon, the two engines were on their way, picking up speed as they chugged, until they were as fast as their wheels could carry them.

You'd better be alright, Thomas thought of Gordon bitterly. You'd better...