COME SAIL AWAY
Based upon "Twin Trouble" by Brian Trueman
Adapted by Zack Wanzer and Rachel Ravens
It was a quiet day on Sodor, and Emily had just taken a train down to Tidmouth with Martha and Julian. While there, she had crossed paths with Oliver.
"You were a victim of near scrapping too, I hear," said Emily.
"I sure was," said the autotank. "And coming to Sodor with a brake van in secret is no picnic."
Emily's eyes widened in surprise. "You came here under cover?!"
Oliver gave a slight chuckle, and with that, launched into his famous tale. Though many others asked him about it, it always felt exhilarating to tell it again and again.
"…and that was when Douglas and I crossed over the Vicarstown bridge safely to the island," he finished as he and Emily heard two familiar deep-toned whistles.
"Hello, you two," Emily called over to Donald and Douglas, double-heading a goods train.
"Hullo, Emily, Oliver," greeted Donald. "Urr ye tellin' yer escape story again?" he chuckled.
"Maybe," Oliver chuckled. "I can get a bit carried away sometimes."
"We've git a run o' oor ain tae tell," said Douglas.
"You two as well?" asked Emily.
"Aye," Douglas confirmed. "Though this escape run a'maist gaed completely wrong."
"This wis due tae a fight we hud mere days afore we cuid plan it," added Donald. Emily's eyes nearly popped out when she heard this.
"That was pretty much my reaction too," said Oliver. "But believe me, it did happen."
"It a' stairted lik' this…" said Douglas.
Past
Back when Donald and Douglas worked under British Railways in the Scottish Region, they had the numbers 57646 and 57647, although they were usually shortened by their old controller to just 646 and 647, respectively. The twins worked with several other engines in the Scottish Region, although not all of them spoke with the same accent as they did.
"Hullo, Donal' an' Douglas," called a large green tender engine with ten drive wheels and smoke deflectors.
"Guid day, Murdoch," smiled Donald. "How urr ye daein'?"
"No' as well as Ah could be, honestly," sighed Murdoch. "Have ye two heard about the plans for British Railways?"
"Nae, whit?" asked Douglas.
"Well…" Murdoch hesitated. "I… it turns oot mah class is the last steam engine that British Railways has chosen ta build."
Donald and Douglas' eyes widened.
"How is 'at possible?" asked Donald. "We engines ur th' railway's livelihood."
"Ah'm no' entirely sure o' the circumstances," said Murdoch. "Still, keep yer metaphorical ears open."
"Okay, Murdoch," said Douglas as he and Donald started pulling away with their goods train. "We'll see ye later."
As the twins started coasting down the line, Douglas was anxiously thinking about what Murdoch had said.
"Whit cuid he mean?" asked the younger twin. "Fowk aren't leavin' us fur th' roads, ur thay?"
"Dinnae be silly." said Donald. "A've seen loads o' passengers at th' station afore we left. It'd tak' a lot afore th' roads completely teuk ower railways."
"'N' whit aboot oor goods traffic?" Douglas fretted.
"Hae ye nae seen th' size o' oor goods train? Lorries cannae even carry hauf that we dae!"
The twins were so busy arguing that they didn't see what was going on at the bottom of the hill. A horse was pulling a cart of hay across the track, when a wheel suddenly fell off.
"Oh, crumbs!" gasped the farmer. "That's torn it. We'd better get help, Dapple."
The farmer jumped onto her horse - being sure to use a hard hat - and galloped off. But she had reckoned things would be fine without the incoming goods train…
"Will ye calm doon, Douggie?" Donald sighed. "Thare is na wey that roads wid... Losh sakes! Brakes!"
Donald hastily applied his brakes, but because he wasn't paying attention, Douglas hadn't thought to do so quickly enough, resulting in Donald plowing straight through the hay cart, its contents being spread all over the area, even on the twins. Both twins had managed to come to a stop with no visible damage, but Donald was angry with Douglas.
"Douggie, ye pushed me richt intae th' cart!"
"Bit Ah didnae see it! How wis Ah tae know?!"
"Ah called fur ye tae brake!" argued Donald. "'N' ye payed na attention."
"Ye dragged me alang, mair lik'!" retorted Douglas.
"Didnae!"
"Did!"
"Did not!"
"Did tae!"
The twins' crews rolled their eyes and dusted Donald and Douglas off as best they could, but most of the hay had to remain, as Donald and Douglas were behind schedule. Although they'd managed to make up for lost time, the twins were still cross with and refused to speak to one another.
"Good grief," said a 2-6-0 tender engine named Harriet "What has gotten into the two of you?"
"Douggie pushed me intae a hay cart!" retorted Donald.
"Na, Donal' pulled me!" argued Douglas.
"Oh my goodness, I do not want to be dragged into this," sighed Harriet with a roll of her eyes.
The controller of the Scottish Region was getting very disgruntled with the twins' distrust of each other.
"Th' railway wull fall apairt wi' thae twa th'gither…" he muttered. "Ah will hae tae seperate thaim…"
He strolled over to the sheds where Harriet and a few other engines were resting.
"No. 13," addressed the controller. Harriet wanted to retort something snide for not being addressed by her name, but held her tongue. "Ah need ye tae wirk wi' yin o' th' twins fur th' time bein'."
"Of course, sir," said Harriet. Just when I didn't want to get caught in the drama, she thought. "I'll go work with Douglas."
"Whilk number wis he again?" asked the Scottish Region controller, but Harriet stormed off before he could get a response.
"Tis sae hard tae figure oot whilk engine is whit number…" he grunted.
Douglas was surprised when Harriet came over to help with some goods trains.
"Just go with it, Douglas," sighed the Mickey tender engine. "I'm not in the mood to explain."
At first, the two engines seemed to work together just fine, although the earlier conversation Douglas had with Murdoch still floated around in his mind.
"Harriet," said Douglas, "dae ye know anythin' aboot whit Murdoch mentioned th' ither day?"
"About he and his siblings being the last steam engines built for British Railways?" asked Harriet. "Yes, I heard something like that from Hamish. Is there a reason for your question, Douglas?"
The younger twin then explained what the 9F had told him and Donald. Harriet's face fell into a frown, a mixture of disgust and resentment.
"Well, here's what I've been hearing from one of the stationmasters," she said. "When steam production ceases, diesels will be 'coming of age'."
"Steam production ceasing? Diesels comin' o' age?" Douglas repeated. From the tone of his voice, and the way that Harriet put it, he did not like the sound of it at all.
"I had a few encounters with some of those diesels," explained Harriet. "When they weren't sneering in silence at me, they'd tell me that one day, I'd end up on the scrapheap."
"That's na wey tae talk!" cried Douglas indignantly. "Thaim diesels hae na richt tae be roaming aroond, telling us we're nothin bit scrap."
"Some of us Standards aren't even a decade old," agreed Harriet. "And yet diesels have the gall to say we shouldn't be running."
"Ah'm much older than ye, 'n' Ah kin still haul a decent sized train," growled Douglas. "Thae diesels really dae sound lik' trauchle."
Douglas and Harriet then had to depart with their goods trains, and this new piece of information had Douglas even more concerned.
Meanwhile, Donald was doing Harriet's jobs and talking with Murdoch and an express engine who went by the name Duchess of Loughborough.
"So, what's all this about?" asked Duchess (she preferred to be called thus for short). "A fight due to a conversation about steam engines and roads?"
"It's not that," called a snide voice from behind the trio. "You three will eventually join the scrapheap, and we diesels will take over."
"Shaw yersel', whoever ye are!" snapped Donald. Out popped a long blue diesel with yellow ends, and the number 199 on his cab sides.
"Steam engine production has all ended," smirked 199. "Many controllers have already started replacing all of you with us. We are far more efficient than any of you."
"If by 'efficient', ye mean breakin' down in the middle o' the line an' bein' unable ta start up on a cold morning, then that's a very poor definition o' the word," retorted Murdoch.
Donald and Duchess couldn't help but chuckle. 199 just let out an indignant sort.
"You three may think this a joke now, but not when you're covered in rust later on," he growled, and oiled away.
"Muckle nuisance, that yin," huffed Donald.
"I'll say," grunted Duchess. "He's just full of exhaust, that one."
"All bark an' no bite," agreed Murdoch. "Still, best keep on alert fer diesels who are actually a threat." Duchess and Donald had to agree.
That evening, the Scottish Region controller had come to speak with Donald.
"646," he addressed, "I've hud a phone call th'day fae someone known as Sur Topham Hatt."
"Is he fae th' Island o' Sodor?" asked Donald curiously, too intrigued to be cross about the controller not remembering his name.
"Aye," nodded the controller. "Sur Topham Hatt needs a goods engine wha kin run oan th' main line 'n' branch lines. Wid ye be willing tae gang?"
Donald smiled eagerly. "Ah sure wid. Thank ye, sur."
The controller nodded and walked off to make the arrangements.
"Wow, Sodor?" gasped Duchess. "You lucky duck, Donald. I heard something along the lines of a diesel on the island that was kicked off after less than a week."
"Sounds like he was a right terror if ye ask me," huffed Murdoch. Donald smiled as he fell asleep, looking forward to his new position on a new railway.
The following day, Douglas and Harriet were working on goods trains together.
"Did ye shunt the trucks onto th' ither line?" asked Douglas.
"But you said you wanted them on the other line," insisted Harriet.
"Na, nae that ither line! Th' ither, ither line!" Douglas sighed. "Donal' wid hae known whit Ah meant."
Douglas puffed off to get some water at the tower, when he saw Donald already there. The younger twin was a bit surprised to see him this soon after their disagreement.
"Er, Donnie," Douglas said quietly. "Aboot yesterday…"
"Hae ye come tae say yer sorry?" Donald sniffed.
Douglas snarled at his older twin. "Ah hae nothin' tae be sorry fur!"
"Alright, alright!" cried Duchess. "Break it up, you two. Douglas, do you need to fill up on coal as well?"
Douglas sighed. "Aye. Ah will git that first."
The younger twin puffed away, Duchess glaring at Donald. "Douglas was trying to reach out to you, and you just tossed him away?! You're on the verge of transferring, Donald."
Donald sighed. "That's juist it, Duchess; Ah dinnae know how tae tell Douglas that wi'in th' neist week, we'll be separated by mony miles o' track. 'N' juist efter a fight tae…"
"Come on, Donald," said Duchess. "He's your younger brother, your twin. You've been best friends for years. Some miles of track and an argument over a cart of hay wouldn't change that, right?"
Donald gave a weak smile. "Aye, lass," he said quietly. "Ah will talk tae him whin Ah see him neist."
Meanwhile, Douglas was sadly trundling along with Harriet on their goods train. He was still a bit shaken from his brief spat with Donald.
"Ah cannae believe we let an argument ower a hay cart git tae us…" he sighed.
"You two have to make this right," grunted Harriet. "If I get told about the 'other other' line one more time-"
"Ugh, that doesnae feel richt."
"Douglas?" gasped Harriet. "What's wrong?"
"There's something movin' aroond in mah cylinder," he explained. The train made an emergency stop so that Douglas' crew could see what the problem was.
"Ah, there's th' problem," said his driver. "Looks lik' a loose screw."
"Juist great…" sighed Douglas.
"Ne'er mynd, laddie; we'll hae that fixed up in na time!" said his fireman.
"Just as well," sighed Harriet. "Hopefully we'll be on our way soon."
As Douglas' fireman had promised, the problem was quickly put to rights, and the two engines could carry on their way once again.
Meanwhile, 199 was waiting for the two steam engines to bring their trucks to his connecting goods train.
"Delayed, are you?" grunted 199. "Trust a pair of unreliable steamies like yourselves to hold up other, more important trains on the main line!"
"Look 'ere, ye smelly blue box oan wheels!" snapped Douglas. "We hae bin aroond fur far langer than ye. Ah bet if ye broke doon, ye wid gie up oan yer train wi'oot a seicont thought."
"Douglas is right," said Harriet. "He suffered from a mechanical problem, but it was quickly put to rights and he carried on as if nothing happened."
"The controller won't be the least bit pleased about this, Dougal," smirked 199, before purring away. "Diesels are on the rise."
"It's Douglas, ye clod!" growled the Scottish engine.
"Forgoat that prat," muttered a nearby Jinty tank engine. "Diesels ur a' talk 'n' na shaw. Some shuid be mair grateful that ye 'n' Harriet git 'ere in th' first place."
"Thank ye, Hamish," smiled Douglas. "Ah suppose Ah'm still stressed ower th' tiff Ah hud wi' Donal'."
"Ah did hear aboot that fae Murdoch," said Hamish. "Bit didnae fass, Douglas. Ye 'n' Donal' wull likelie git a chance tae talk by th' end o' th' day."
But as Douglas was resting in a siding, he heard the tooting sound of 199.
"Whit urr ye daein' back 'ere?" snapped Douglas.
"The controller gave me strict instructions, Dougal," said 199, buffering up roughly to the Scottish engine. "This will be your last day in service."
"Whit dae ye mean, lest day in service?" Douglas didn't need to have that question answered for him, as he quickly realized what that meant. His breath quickened and he bit his lip. "Na! Ye cannae dae this! Ah've bin workin' hard fur years!"
"Enjoy your time in the scrapyards, rust bucket!"
Harriet and Hamish were both taking on coal and water, watching the whole display.
"Losh sakes!" exclaimed Hamish. "We'd better tell Donal'!"
"You try and keep up with that blue monster, Hamish," said Harriet. "I'll go find Donald."
Hamish and Harriet raced off in opposite directions.
Further up the line at the next station, Donald was thinking about what he was going to say to make it up with his twin, when he heard an urgent whistle.
"Harriet?" he asked in surprise. "Is thare a runaway train?"
"No, Donald! Worse than that!" the Standard mogul cried. "It's Douglas! He's been withdrawn from service!"
"WHIT?!" gasped Donald. "Whilk wey did thay tak' him?"
"Hamish and I saw 199 taking Douglas to the scrapyard that way!"
"Ah'm oan mah wey!"
Harriet and Donald raced off side by side, trying to see how far 199 had taken Douglas. Donald whistled despairingly, hoping his twin would hear him.
If Ah cannae save Douglas, Donald thought to himself, Ah'd ne'er forgive masell.
Meanwhile, Hamish was tearing along the rails, hoping he could get to Douglas.
"Curse that 199 'n' his quicker speed," he muttered. "Hang oan, Douglas!" he called, whistling loudly. "Ah'm comin'." Unfortunately, that loud whistle turned out to be a mistake.
"Ugh, meddling steamie," 199 growled. "I'll stop this." The blue diesel passed a signal box and tooted his horn.
"Divert that tank engine!" he called. Hamish panted and continued to race, but then he felt his wheels go toward the right.
"Losh sakes!" he cried. "Driver, brakes!"
Hamish skidded to a halt, but not quick enough, and he crashed straight through the buffers and down into a shallow ditch.
"NA!" he cried. "DOUGLAS!"
"HELP!" wailed Douglas. He started crying. "Och... Ah will ne'er mak' it richt wi' Donal' now…"
Meanwhile, Donald and Harriet managed to get to the station where they found two figures anxiously looking around the area.
"That's Douglas' crew," remarked Donald's driver. "Whit ur thay daein' 'ere?"
"Oh, I don't know," snorted Harriet. "They're frantically looking for their engine who's been withdrawn?"
"Na time fur th' snarky remarks, Harriet," grunted Donald. He then turned to Douglas' crew. "Lewis, Mack, jump up, quick."
Douglas' driver and fireman knew better than to question Donald in this kind of mood and obeyed at once.
Meanwhile, Douglas was taken to a cold siding.
"Och, Donald…" sobbed Douglas. "If Ah dae end up getting scrapped th' nicht... Ah'm waantin' tae let ye know that Ah loue ye wi' a' mah hert. Na silly tiff wull ever chaynge that…"
"DOUGGIE!"
Douglas perked up as he heard his twin's shout.
"DONNIE!" he cried. "Whit... How did ye…"
"Yer mah brother, Douggie," whispered Donald. "Na fight we hae wull ever chaynge that."
"Douglas," cried his driver, switching over to his cab. "Och, you're a'richt."
"Thank goodness," sighed his fireman.
Douglas felt a small smile creep onto his face. "Ah'm glad tae see ye fur yin lest time."
"Wha says it's goin' tae be th' lest time?" asked Donald. "Listen. Ah've bin purchased fur th' North Western Railway tae be a goods engine doon thare, 'n' as it turns oot, a diesel oan trial hud recently bin sent packing tae."
"Urr ye saying, Ah shuid stowaway wi' ye?" Douglas asked in surprise. "Donnie, ye'd be putting yersel' in danger…"
"Ah'm nae leavin' wi'oot ye, Douggie!" Donald said firmly. "Na maiter whit fights we hae, Ah will ne'er abandon ye again, Ah promise."
Douglas felt tears of happiness prick his eyes. "Yer th' best brother Ah cuid ask fur."
"Though we still need tae figure oot how Sur Topham Hatt wilnae wirk oot whilk yin o' us is whilk…" said Donald. "Ugh… That's yin flaw Ah didnae think aboot…"
"How aboot we paint ower oor numbers?" suggested Douglas. "Na yin wull be able tae tell us apairt. That daft controller cannae identify us by name."
"Engines hae enough trauchle trying tae tell ye apairt by name," chuckled Donald's driver. "Let's dae it."
"One o' oor cousins wirks in th' nearby workshops," said Douglas' driver; both the twins' crews were related as well. "Ah'm sure she willnae mynd loaning us some black paint."
The two tender engines slipped off quietly into the darkness, and indeed, the drivers' and firemen's cousin was more than willing to loan some paint to help them out.
"This one's nearly out anyway," chuckled the worklady. "I doubt anyone will miss it." She walked over to Donald and Douglas. "You two keep your strength up, dearies. I'll be sure to visit you two on Sodor."
Donald and Douglas blushed modestly. "Thank ye, Mina," said Douglas. "We promise we wull."
Now that things had calmed down, Donald glanced over at Douglas. "Douggie, Ah'm sae sorry we hud this fight."
"Nae, Ah'm sorry," said Douglas.
"Ah'm sorry!"
"Ye dinnae need tae hae a row ower who's sorry," laughed Donald's driver. "Juist be glad yer back together." And they were.
Present
"Wow," said Emily. "That was quite a story. I can't believe that feud almost broke you up for good."
"Ah'm juist glad we baith managed tae git 'ere 'n' bade 'ere in yin piece," sighed Donald.
"Aye," agreed Douglas. "Bit fur th' langest time, Ah thought Ah coudnae be as brave as Donnie wis."
"But you were when you helped me and Toad out," said Oliver. Douglas blushed and gave a wink at his boyfriend.
Emily felt a twinge of self-doubt in that moment. Even though Douglas had admitted to being helpless during the ordeal with his own escape, he had managed to turn himself around into aiding someone else. And Oliver? He practically took it upon himself to escape with Toad on his own.
And I… I did absolutely nothing… she thought to herself. I let myself be cut up to being almost dead… did I really earn my place here?
THE E-
Oh, and I bet you're wondering about Hamish and Harriet, right? Well…
"So you decided to whistle loudly and that got you diverted and derailed right off the edge of the track?"
"It wasnae mah fault, Harriet," grunted Hamish. "Ah hae tae let Douglas know hulp wis comin'!"
THE END (for real)
Author's Comments
After a short delay from the initial writing stage (don't ask, it's a long story), I am now finally able to post this rewrite of Twin Trouble! Not a bad episode, but it did have a bit of a negative impact on Donald and Douglas as characters in the long run, eventually reaching its nadir with Emily in the Middle in series 21; the fact that it was the same story as the previous season's Love Me Tender didn't help. Nor did their lack of appearances since then. For a pair of iconic characters, you'd think they'd be given better than what they got. Rachel and I changed up the timeframe of Donald's and Douglas' conflict to be just before the events of Never Be Alone, giving us a glimpse into their pre-Sodor life and showing how much they care for one another, even after a petty argument. Also, note that Emily's thoughts at the end will come into play for future stories.
Upcoming stories:
- The Fogman
- Jack Jumps In
- A Friend in Need
- Gordon and Spencer
- A Bad Day for Harold
