A ricocheting clang of coal on metal reverberated through the air as the static quiet of the night enveloped Rebecca and Emily. The two had come straight from the sheds to relieve Rebecca's stress after Gordon's read-aloud of his recent letter. The words filled her head as she attempted to focus on her next target in her and Emily's game of HORSE. Bandana cocked, she took aim and let loose a deadly 'Thwip'.
"It doesn't count if you don't call out where you're aiming." Emily mused. Her arms folded as she couldn't hide her admiration at the shot.
"Sorry, I forgot."
"It's alright. There's a lot to process." Emily squared up and pointed determinedly at a cracked boiler about 20 meters away. "Through the smokebox. Minus a letter if you make it all the way through."
She levied a lump of coal in her dark green bandana and gave two quick whirls before cracking it off. Effortlessly the rock cut through the air and 'pinged' as it clipped the top of the smokebox opening on its way through. She punched a fist in the air before letting her hand settle on her hips.
"I impress myself sometimes…. Rebecca… it's your turn."
Emily gently put a hand on her friend's shoulder. Rebecca had been spacing off, lost in thought as she gazed at the star stricken sky above.
"Right.. Yeah, sorry. Where are we hitting?"
Emily sank as she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
"We don't have to do this if you're not into it. I just thought it'd help take your mind off of things."
"It usually does… but… I don't know. Everything is just getting to me."
"That was a lot for Gordon to ask. Considering everything…"
Rebecca's ambient stare intensified as she met Emily's eyes.
"It's not like there was anything. Henry was my mentor and a really good friend. I'm right to feel hurt he disappeared without saying anything. Right?"
Rebecca had started fidgeting, her hands twisting her yellow bandana as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Emily, silent, continued to listen as everything that Rebecca had been bottling began to uncork.
"And then to go to Gordon for help but not me? Especially in regards to his engine? I was the one there with him through the all-nighters rebuilding the thing. If anyone would be able to sneak the right parts it'd be me!"
Rebecca's shoulders rose and fell rapidly as she caught her breath. The hysterics in her voice caused Emily to reach out and catch Rebecca by the shoulders to focus her in and make her calm down.
The events of only a few hours ago still stung so fervently. Gordon had opened his letter in the roundhouse to the crew and read it aloud. The message from Henry had asked for him to rally everyone to scavenge for parts on a provided list, allowing Gordon to collect and deposit the loads at Vicarstown to be picked up by a third party for transport. It was an enormous task for the crew that had so recently been through such an overbearing ordeal. Gordon and James had both vocally abhorred being asked to jeopardize their driving careers to steal. Everyone in the sheds missed and respected Henry, but the price was too high for them all to pay after The Controller's actions following Number 3's accident.
Above all else, Rebecca was deeply hurt. Feeling disregarded after she'd worked so hard for her friend to help him achieve his goal. He'd sent the letter to Gordon and not her. Casting aside any camaraderie she'd imagined the two had shared. Feeling both selfish and condemned, she couldn't stop talking to herself in circles trying to justify why she should feel so strongly in the first place.
"Take a breath."
Emily had released her grip on Rebecca's shoulders and looked at her apprehensively as she watched the air fill and escape Rebecca's long sigh.
"It just hurts Emily. I thought he was my friend."
"He still is. Right now he's probably just scrambling to make sense of everything that's happened. With all the work he's put into that engine, grieving its loss probably doesn't feel like an option. And knowing Gordon longer than most of us… he probably sought his help out of habit."
Rebecca dabbed the moisture from her face as she listened intently. Unknowingly powdering coal dust from her recent slingshots all over her expression.
"Rebecca I know this feels personal, but I think there's a lot more going on. Not that I'm trying to dismiss the validity of your feelings!"
Emily raised her hands defensively. Waving them anxiously as she tried to state her perspective. Rebecca smiled meekly and reached for another chunk of coal from the deposit behind them.
"You're excellent Emily. And honestly probably right. I shouldn't lose it over something so circumstantial."
Emily beamed before pointing to spots on Rebecca's face.
"Just make sure you wash-up tonight. You look like you've had your head directly in a firebox for hours."
Rebecca touched her cheek reflexively and gave a disgruntled moan before shrugging it off.
"No matter. Now where am I aiming again?"
"Through the smokebox of that boiler there. If you make it all the way through you lose a letter."
Rebecca veered back and swung her yellow bandana like a bolos as she vaulted the coal chunk through the air. The projectile flew inches above the smokebox, missing the target entirely.
"Ah.. You missed. Guess that's H-O for you."
"What're you trying to say about me Emily?"
Emily grinned cheekily and reached for more ammunition.
Dawn broke over the Island as Percy was returning to the sheds. He'd just shunted his vans from the night post and was ready to head home and rest. He'd had three separate delays as missing parcels, clumsy labeling, and a faulty signal all threatened to rebuke his 'really useful' status.
But all of the night's events were behind him. He yawned lazily as Number 6 trundled through the yard toward the turntable. The morning sun breaking the horizon line and peeking over the roundhouse blinded Percy temporarily as his heavy eyelids squinted to make out his distancing. Reaching up to rub his tired retinas, his boilersuit sleeve hooked the regulator and pulled it open accidentally. Number 6's small wheels chuffed quickly toward the rotating turntable, not in position to receive the little engine. As Percy opened his eyes, he caught sight out the cab window just in time to exclaim fearful "OH NO!" and jump from the footplate.
Number 6 rolled right into the turntable well. Bufferbeam buried in the gravel below and the creaking rail platform turned and gingerly pushed into the engine's running board. A grinding groan of gearwork came from the rotating platform as the small engine was shoved around the rim of the well. Small wheels still pumping as it rocked from side to side letting the coupling rods push it on and off the well wall.
Percy watched in horror as at last the movement was stymied by the crack of a cog. The platform abruptly stopped turning, and Number 6 rocked in place from its mindlessly spinning wheels. Percy was speechless as he sat spread eagle on the ground. He couldn't take his eyes off the scene. Footsteps approached behind him, stopping once they were level to his position.
"And to think I could've just stayed in bed." James stated bluntly as both he and Percy eyed the accident.
A small N Gauge model E2 sprinted through a paper mache tunnel. The electric motor inside whirring loudly as Thomas throttled up the regulator. The midday sun poured brilliantly into his hobby room. His personal model railway, fully set-up, had taken all his attention as he relished in the accidental day off.
Initially he'd been worried after receiving the call about the accident at the shed, but once learning no one was hurt, he decided to embrace the mental health day that had presented itself.
"No sense stressing about making up work that I can't work on today."
His model E2 raced past a small cardboard cottage painted with acrylics in a soft blue, a stark contrast to the burnt umber of the engine. Thomas could watch his models run the one loop he had finished for hours. A simple set up that took advantage of several bits he'd both inherited from family and had collected since he was little.
The engine rounded the curve and tackled the stretch of straight track that ran past a polyurethane lake he had poured a week earlier. As he crouched and watched the engine go over the banked track, he concluded the profile looked too barren. His brows furrowed in contemplation as he looked about his layout for ideas. He had two stations, signal boxes, and a lovely engine shed. He could put another cottage or a grove of trees, but that seemed too pedestrian.
A light breeze drafted through the window Thomas had opened when he started his running session. The wafting autumnal air was refreshing in the musty space, and just the motivator Thomas needed as an idea struck him.
"A Windmill!"
He beamed at the collusion and, without hesitation, he snagged his coat off his work desk chair and set toward the hobby shop up the road.
The streets were quiet in the early afternoon. People at work or at brunch avoided the brisk atmosphere along the street. Thomas tipped his cap to a gentleman walking his dog in the opposite direction. It was peaceful. Ever since he'd moved to Elsbridge he'd embraced the slower pace of the town and enjoyed meeting the people and places throughout.
He approached an older building with weather worn stone work. A sun faded sign hung over the shop entrance reading "Allcroft Hobby Shop".
Thomas reached for the door when it opened toward him, catching him off guard. He stepped back as the person coming out raised their eyes, surprised to see Thomas there.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!"
The young woman wore a mauve jumper with golden bangles on her wrists. Light auburn hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her voice was kind as she hurriedly stepped to let him walk by her.
"After you."
Thomas shook himself present and recovered clumsily as he held the door and gestured toward the sidewalk outside.
"Oh no, please after you!"
She gave a small grin and sidled by, an essence of vanilla trailing her and she started on her way. Thomas watched momentarily before forcing himself away to head inside. Closing the door behind him. He kicked the minor bits of debris from his loafers onto the mat and looked to the shelves, dissecting where to begin his search.
Yet before he could instigate his browsing, a man with a worker's apron rushed toward and by him out the door.
"MIss! MISS!... Biscuits.."
He returned inside defeated and Thomas noticed a small paper bag clutched in his hand.
"Did that lady forget something?"
"Aye. I forgot to bag one of her kits. Bugger that. Hopefully she comes back."
The man pulled a small box from the bag to show Thomas. The display image showed a line of small figurines dressed in various attire. A postman, a police officer, a milkman.. All posed for action as if they could be placed in a diorama. Thomas personally could see each fitting right in on his layout.
"That's a shame. She'll miss them."
"Do you know her?"
Thomas felt his mouth open to reply as the words escaped him. He took a momentary gulp to recenter before simply stating,
"No."
"Bugger. I was hoping I could entrust it to someone she knew. Ah well. Sorry to keep you! Let me know if there's anything I can help with."
The worker made toward the checkout counter and Thomas was left at the entrance, flummoxed by all that had occurred.
Rosie slowly gauged her distance as she closed the throttle on Number 37 . The cranes for the breakdown train were now positioned near enough the turntable well to reach Number 6, who's wheels had finally stopped turning after its coupling rods snapped and its fire had gone out.
"Pity."
She leapt down from the footplate after putting the brake hard on and went to be at the ready if the workmen needed her help in stabilizing the crane arms. A strand of hair from her messy bun fell into her line of vision, causing her to give a soft 'pfft' as she blew it to the side.
The crane operator mounted the machine's operating board and waited for the all clear from the legs being flayed out from the crane bed. Rosie watched, fascinated at all the specifics of the operation. A deep voice pulling her from her observation as she turned her head to see The Controller himself approaching from his recently parked car.
"Ah Rosie. You've been quick. Thank you so much for diverting your schedule today. We need every engine not stuck in that shed doing everything they can."
"Happy to assist sir. And what a story this'll make for everyone at Wellsworth."
Sir Topham Hatt sighed as he removed his Top Hat to wipe his brow with his pocket scarf.
"Quite a story. I'll hopefully be able to laugh about this someday. But for today there's nothing but confusion and delay. Both expresses shelved, a branchline out of commission. I'm grateful for our working relationship with the bus depots…"
He trailed off as Rosie's concern began to overwhelm her. She had the question on the tip of her tongue with no restraint to hold it back.
"But the buses are only temporary right sir?"
She bit her bottom lip out of sheer nervousness as her hands rocketed into her boilersuit pockets to hold steady. Sir Topham Hatt faced her earnestly with grave expression as he responded.
"We are a railway Rosie. And as long as we can run, we will run. Buses have inconveniences just like we do."
He eyed her expectantly. Rosie held her tongue. The rumors she'd heard recently about the changes in management at the Depot and the race to ruin the railway were just that, rumors. She didn't want to risk causing more damage by spreading them if The Controller was already in a state of dismay.
"You're right Sir. Once that turntable's fixed then we'll be right on track… literally!"
She pivoted to a more upbeat conversation as a second nature. Sir Topham's expression softened at her tone and she felt her shoulders tension ebb away too.
"That's a wonderful attitude Rosie. Never lose that."
As he tucked his pocket scarf back into his jacket, a workman beckoned for The Controller to come over. He smiled at Rosie.
"Chin up and strong heart. Everything is going to be fine."
Rosie grinned back, but she couldn't quite shake the sinking feeling in her gut.
Hullo all! Thank you so much for having read this far! I'm trying to think of more dynamic things to do with our characters as we build toward the larger story arcs. And certain friends I don't want to lose their characters in the bigger narratives. So I hope you'll forgive me if I microscope on other journeys in addition to our big events.
As always thank you so much for reading! -REN