So Ringo, today we're doing a episode with a traction engine in.
Neato. Can I have one?
No. Our budget already got blown on your narration for this series.
...
It was one of the busiest days of the year on the Island of Sodor. The recently expanded Knapford Yards was the sight of quite a lot of chaos. Of his seven engines, the Fat Controller was seeing at least four of them in action. Percy hurried past with a train of coal trucks, exchanging good mornings with Thomas, who was pulling a long line of freight, and both whistled sharply at Gordon, pulling the express.
James was lounging in the corner, vaguely wondering what type of job he would have to come up with a excuse for would be thrown his way.
The Fat Controller works his engines hard, but they are really proud when he calls them really useful. They also call up the union, just in case that there's something going on that's illegal.
...
Meanwhile, back at Tidmouth, Edward was going around on the turntable. Thomas had just reversed after leaving his trucks for Henry to pick up when Edward puffed forward. "i'm going to the scrapyard today!" Edward declared to Thomas.
"What, already? You're not that old!" replied Thomas cheekily. He was only teasing. Mostly.
"Oh HARDY HA!" snapped Edward, still not quite forgiving Thomas or his fireman for the incident with Bertie. He puffed off, leaving Thomas to grin smugly at his retreating tender.
"Now, for my face wax!" the little blue idiot declared.
Edward, as he passed the sheds on his way to the scrapyard, began to wonder if he was doomed to be trapped in the same cycle of wanting respect and never quite getting it.
...
The scrapyard was full with rusty old cars and machinery. It was also the resting place of several of Bertie's more unruly cousins, and resembled a elephant graveyard. Even though there were workmen still there, doing the things that workmen were likely to do, there was a atmosphere of tension running through the entire yard. The scrap itself was usually broken into pieces, loaded into trucks and then Edward would arrive, bring them to the steelworks and watch them being melted down and used again. It was a odd feeling this. For while Hatt had been very adamant that no engine would be scrapped on his railway, Edward still felt the uncanny sense that he was wearing part of his lineage. Thankfully, most of the things were dead, or had long since passed on.
But today there was a surprise waiting for Edward. It was a traction engine. He had a face like someone had peed on his sandwiches, green paint that was peeling and had turned a autumn like yellow and a demeanor of a engine who had lost all hope in life.
"Hello!" Edward said cheerfully. "You don't look like you belong here! You're not broken and...well, not too rusty. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm Trevor" He sighed. "I'm breaking up next week!"
"With your girlfriend?"
"They're going to break me up next week." Trevor clarified.
"Damn! I didn't think they still did that sort of barbaric stuff. What a shame!" said Edward.
"My driver says I only need some paint, polish and oil to make me as good as new! But my master says I'm old fashioned."
Edward snorted. "Okay, first of all, master? That guy needs to get himself checked out, you're not a slave! And second of all, people call me old fashioned all the time. But I give no cares at all! The Fat Controller says I'm a useful engine."
"Still a 'slave' though, am I right?"
"Well-" Edward reflected, having not had the chance to talk to someone with a similarly philosophical view on life for a while. "-I suppose it depends on how you look at it. I think of ourselves as being workers. And I get some money-"
"You do?! I didn't get anything!"
"Damn. Your master is a right bastard!" Edward looked over once more. "So what sort of work did you do?"
"My master would send us from farm to farm. We'd thresh corn, haul logs, occasionally try out some of their drinks and lots of other work. The children loved to see us." Trevor sighed, remembering. "Oh yes. I like children."
There was a awkward pause.
"You know, I keep forgetting that that sounds rather wrong."
"It does." Edward admitted. "But I suppose it's a sign of the times. We're not getting any younger, are we?" He paused. "Oh damn, there's my guard...Trevor, it was nice to see you."
"And I you! It's nice talking to someone who cares...what's your name?!"
Edward had started off. "Edward! I'm Edward!" He set off from the station, and whistled goodbye to Trevor, who looked forlorn once more. "Broken up! What a shame! Broken up! What a shame!"
"Didn't even know you had a girlfriend." said Sidney Heaver.
"Shut it, idiot! I must help Trevor, I must!" As he pulled out onto the Suddery Junction, he thought of all his friends who liked engines. But strangely none of them would have room for a traction engine at home. And the fact that at least four of them were hippies and hated tech would not be helpful at all.
"It's a shame, it's a shame!" Edward panted angrily as he passed the Suddery Castle, also known as the Suddery Crumbling Ruins.
Then: "PEEP PEEP! Why didn't I think of it before?"
"You mean you're letting go of this dream and just moving on with your life?" asked Sidney hopefully. But there, on the platform stood the very person.
"Hello Edward! You look upset! What's the matter Charlie?" the man asked the driver.
"Traction engine in the scrapyard Vicar." said the driver. "And a live one."
"Ouch!" Vicar Teddy, as he was known, shuddered. "Sounds painful.
"He'll be broken up next week."
"Indeed! If I was in there, I'd be broken up as well."
"What- No, I mean physically broke up. With a crowbar. Jem Cole says he's never drove with a better engine."
"Hang on, when did you get a chance to chat with Jem!?" asked Sidney incredulously.
"Well while you were getting the latest Playboy-" The Vicar gave a look to Sidney, who grinned sheepishly. "-I was chatting with the driver! He told me a lot about Trevor, and quite frankly, I'm with Edward on this one."
"Please sir! He hauls wood and drinks and gives children rides!" Edward was aware of how pathetic that was, but he figured he had to contribute something to this conversation.
Teddy smiled. "We'll see." He said, as he took his kids over to his wife. He bent down. "Now listen kids, I can't quite get you the horse you wanted-"
"YOU'RE MEAN!" cried one boy.
"I WANT A DIVORCE!" howled the other one.
"-but I can get you a metal one!"
Edward frowned and then smiled. "Excuse me, sir. I have a idea..."
...
Jem Cole came around on Saturday, grinning at Trevor in a way that the old traction engine hadn't seen for quite a while. "The Reverend's coming to see you Trevor! Maybe he'll buy you!"
Trevor was excited, but dare not show it. "Do you think he will?" he asked. "Don't dangle this false hope before me Jem!"
"Oh, he will when I've lit your fire and cleaned you up!" Jem smiled. "You can thank friend Edward for this!"
"Oh Edward, if this works, you'll have a friend for life!"
...
The Vicar and his two boys arrived that evening. Both boys were so excited, mainly because they never got to stay up this late unless some spectacularly bad people were getting their asses handed to them by their father, a black belt in karate and a former veteran.
Trevor hadn't felt so happy for months! He chuffered around the yard, pulling several large pieces of scrap like he was competing in a 'World's Strongest Engine' contest.
"Show your paces Trevor!" said the vicar. Trevor looked befuddled at this, so the Vicar amended it to "Show us what you've got!"
Trevor took the group on a ride around the scrapyard, through the gates, all the while cheerfully singing once more. If this was to be his last night, then he wanted to enjoy it.
...
Later, the Vicar came out of the office smiling. "I got him cheap Jem! Cheap!"
"Should I be offended" muttered Trevor.
"You here that Trevor! The Reverend's saved you and you can live at the vicarage now!"
Trevor frowned. "Can?"
"If you wish, there's a place where you can rest and not do so much wor-"
"No sir! Peep peep!" cheered Trevor.
Smiling, the Vicar turned to his car, ushering the boys in. He looked up, and Edward was standing there, looking worried. He gave him a thumbs up, and Edward whistled so hard that nearly everyone was woken up.
"What did you do to convince him?" Charlie asked.
"It was Edward's idea. I told him that people may not be so willing to work at your scrapyard or receive your scrap, if they discovered that you had condemned a sentient being to it before he was ready. I believe the police are currently at his former master's home for cruelty towards Trevor."
Edward grinned, and looked at Trevor. "Come on then!" he laughed. "Let's go!"
...
Now Trevor's home is in the Vicarage Orchard. And he sees Edward every day, and usually, when he has time to stop, they share a drink of Apple Cider, in which Trevor has insisted he take at least one every day for his arthritis. Not only has he finally been paid, but his paint is spotless and his brass shines like gold. Trevor enjoys his new work, but his happiest day is the Church Fete.
With a wooden seat bolted to his bunker, he chuffers round the orchard giving rides to children. True, it took Vicar Teddy a while to work out how not to crash, but once he did, he was away.
...
And long afterwards, you will see him shut his eyes in his own shed, remembering.
"I like helping children." he tells his driver, who merely smiles and shakes his head.
...
"Oh, you're back Edward! Scrapheap treat you well?"
"Actually Thomas, I saved a life today. What did you do?"
Thomas ignored him.
Edward glared at the face cream. If only someone had the bright idea of doing something to it, he just wanted to see the look on Thomas's face when that happened.