To all the reviewers, once again, I thank you! And welcome back...
Cue the theme.
...
Okay, so I've got a question.
Shoot.
Why are you dressed as a conductor?
I don't know. Why are you dressed as a producer?
Because I am.
There you go.
...You kept that quiet-
Oh, is that the next episode?
...
"Oh GOOD GRIEF! Why! Are! There! SO! Many! Goddamn! Hills!"
"Oh come on Bertie! These tourists want to see the beauty of this island, and you're spoiling their immersion somewhat with your attitude!"
Bertie the Bus, as could be gathered, was taking visitors on a tour of the Island of Sodor. Unfortunately, said tour was already giving his patched up radiator a run for it's money. As he climbed over Hackenbach Tunnel, Bertie once again wondered if he could invest in some sort of refit that would give him wings. Or maybe become one of those new fangled hovercrafts.
As he reached Elsbridge, he sighed in relief as he stopped. He then heard the confused murmuring of his passengers and his mind began to whir into action.
"OH BALLS!" He shouted. "Edward's at Knapford!"
...
It was the last afternoon for the tourists, and once Bertie had dragged himself all the way back around to Knapford for them to get onboard Edward's train, Edward was preparing to take them to meet Bill and Ben before dropping them back to the station to be taken home.
On this day in particular, however, Edward was not in good strength, and found it hard to pull the heavy train.
"Come on!" he pleaded with the coaches. "I really don't need this today!"
The three big engines were already at the station, watching this with a mixture of amusement and slight worry. Actually, that was a lie, only two of the engines felt the slight worry. Gordon was still feeling the enjoyment of watching his rival struggle repeatedly, despite Edward's protests that he had nothing to do with Bill and Ben torturing him psychologically. It this, he had managed to turn Henry and James to a extent against Edward.
"You see him straining?" asked Henry casually.
"Yes." said BoCo, who was there with a bunch of trucks to be taken back to Wellsworth. "We're right next to him, we literally can't miss him."
"Positively painful." agreed James.
"So's your voice." added BoCo.
"Just PATHETIC!" grunted Gordon. "He should give up and be preserved before it's too late! If he gives out on a train, then it'll be bad for all of us!"
"Oh SHUT UP!" burst out Duck in a rare show of emotion since the barber shop incident. "You're all jealous! Edward's better than any of you!" Both he and BoCo had suffered somewhat due to Gordon's long winded speeches about how much Edward was a bane on the railway, so this was somewhat cathartic.
"You're right Duck." agreed BoCo mellowly. "Edward's old-"
"Oi! I! Heard! That!" puffed Edward as he began to feel something give way. He hoped it wasn't his boiler.
"But he'll surprise us all!"
"I've done it! We're off! I've done it, we're off!" Edward cheered as he finally puffed out of the station and on his way.
...
The journey was relatively decent, though at one point Edward did grumble at having to take the long way round through Lower Suddery in order to get to the China Clay Pits. This made him even more annoyed when he arrived at where they were supposed to meet, only to discover that for whatever reason the twins had decided to stay at the harbor. He made the journey once more, feeling his age more and more.
But when he arrived, he was pleased to see that Bill and Ben were delighted. They loved being photographed, and later they took the party back to the clay pits in a brake-van special, which despite it's name, did not include selling brake-vans to one lucky passenger.
So while Bill and Ben posed like fashion models for the tourists, who were very impressed and were having a very splendid time, Edward dozed peacefully in the warm sun. Charlie and Sidney had headed over to telephone about their return to their wives, so he was on his own.
"Rain coming soon." he muttered as he felt a change in the air.
He suddenly felt very old. And very tired.
He started back up as he heard the faint sound of whistling. Bill and Ben pulled back in with their brake-van with happy tourists. Some a little too happy.
"Oh don't tell me they were snorting what I think they were snorting!"
"We couldn't help it!" protested Ben.
"Yeah! We are blameless!"
"Yes, of course you are." Edward rolled his eyes. Then he started off, ready to take the visitors home.
...
"What's wrong with the tracks today?" Edward asked his driver. Once more, he had been forced off of the normal and quicker route back to Knapford, and was now travelling a section of line he hadn't for years.
"No idea old friend. Perhaps it's the time of year. Engines get careless around this time. I mean, you remember that ghost that haunted the Island a few years back?"
"Oh that old chestnut!" Edward laughed. "Wasn't it just you scaring the hell out of everyone?"
"Fun times!"
Edward sniggered. His crew and he had become very close over the years, despite their arguments, and he felt a deep affection for them. He continued onwards, and began to feel the weather change. He looked ahead as he pondered this, and noticed grimly that his prediction was coming true. The clouds were moving in.
He jumped as thunder clapped. "Bloody hell! What a storm!" He shouted over the echo.
"Don't worry!" Sidney shouted back. "It'll probably be nothing!"
...
"You were saying?" said a ice cold and very angry Edward as he puffed onwards, wet to the paint. Wind and rain buffeted him, and he felt himself tilt from side to side.
"Sidney!" The fireman looked over and groaned. Edward's sanding gear had picked the worst time to pack it in. "I thought they said that the overhaul would be good for the rest of the year!"
"Well obviously they were wrong." Sidney grabbed a bucket of sand and made his way slowly over towards Edward's front. He began throwing sand down on the rails, giving Edward's wheels a grip on the rails that was quickly lost, reclaimed and then lost again.
"What a storm!" snarled Edward as the rain beat down on his face. Sidney would have responded, but the rain was blinding him to anything else over than the faint shine of the rails.
Suddenly, Edward's wheels slipped hard and he shuddered in pain. With a shrieking crack, something broke and he slowed to a halt.
Charlie dashed out the second he could. "Edward! Edward! Are you all right!?"
"It...hurts.!" growled Edward in agony. Sidney was helped down, and was sent briefly to the back of the coach to dry up while the guard rushed down to check. THe crew inspected the damage, and repairs took some time.
Edward was freezing. The wind was making his pain worse, and he was well aware that if Gordon could see him now, he'd have the perfect excuse to laugh at him. That thought alone made him determined not to give up.
At last, Charlie stood up. "One of your crankpins broke, Edward. We've taken the siderods off, so now you're like a old-fashioned train."
"I wasn't already?" asked Edward with a slight tinge of sarcasm to his tone.
"Can you get the people home? They must start back tonight."
Edward sighed. "Oh I'll try sir." He gritted his teeth, and began to strain. He puffed and pulled his hardest, but the best he managed with the injuries that he had suffered was a few measly yards, slipping back and forth at a alarming rate.
At last, Charlie paused. "This isn't getting us anywhere." He turned to the fireman. "Looks like they'll have to cancel that meal, Sid."
"Reckon you're right." said Sidney glumly. "I can run and find a telephone box, but-"
"Oh come on!" Edward's voice had risen somewhat. "We didn't give up during the war, did we?! We've been in worse scrapes than this! Come on! I'm not giving up now! Not with all these passengers that need helping!" He turned. "We're not giving up! Now let's just try and think of a solution!"
With the volume of Edward's voice, no one wanted to mes with him. So as the passengers looked on anxiously, they sat and thought.
"I do have one idea." said Charlie after three minutes. "It might work, or it may not. Come on Sid, and you too...whatever your name is!"
"Kyle!"
"Welcome to Sodor, Kyle!"
Driver, fireman and guard moved to each coupling, and began to make adjustments between the coaches. And all the while, the storm raged on. Edward's eyes were beginning to close, but he forced himself awake.
He heard soft whimpers from behind him. "Now now, girls! We'll get through this all right! I'll get you home safely!"
The coaches relaxed. They trusted Edward probably more than any other engine out there, and if he said they were getting home, they were getting home. At last, the driver returned.
"We've loosened the couplings Edward. Now you can pick your coaches up one by one, just like you do with trucks."
"Sounds much easier!" said a grateful Edward. The coaches immediately began grumbling that if Edward treated him like he did trucks, they would sue. So overall, it was five minutes later that Edward could even think about starting.
The guard had rushed through the coaches, informing each passenger of what was about to happen. And all of them were amazed. Lesser engines would have given up and forced them to get a bus.
Not this engine though.
"Come on!" Edward puffed, and slowly started. Sidney had rushed ahead in those five minutes, and had spread as much sand over the rails to give Edward a proper run. Anyway, Edward moved cautiously forward.
The first coach moving-
"Hang on!"
-helped to start the second-
"Nearly there!"
-and the second helped the third.
...
"We-" Charlie grinned deliriously. "-WE-"
"I've done it! I've done it!" panted Edward. Charlie looked on with complete and utter pride in his old friend. Edward juddered a second.
"Steady boy!" called the driver, his voice filled to the brim with joy, and Sidney leapt in the air with a triumphant whoop. "Well done boy!" You've got them! You've GOT THEM!" He listened happily to Edward's shaky but steady beat, as they moved on and forged slowly, but no less surely ahead.
The passengers were cheering for Edward, and it was quite possibly the most intoxicating high that Edward had ever been on. Somehow the pain was dulled by the feeling of such respect.
Of course, it was still there, so the air was occasionally filled with blue curse words, but that was expected.
...
By now, Edward's disappearance had become news to all the engines, and there was not a single one who was not worried for the blue engine. But in Knapford, Sir Topham Hatt had slightly more selfish thoughts, as Henry waited worried.
And then they heard a faint whistle.
And at last, battered, weary, injured and yet ultimately unbeaten, Edward steamed in. "Peep! Peep!" he gasped out as he came to a shuddering halt in Knapford Station. His passengers rushed out towards the Fat Controller.
He glared angrily at the clock and prepared to make the standard apology...but was suddenly awash with praise and exultation for the wise old engine, who was currently gasping for air. Jem Cole immediately rushed to check on him, while both driver and fireman and even Kyle got acclaim from the passengers, among them the Firelighter's Wife and Jerimiah Jobling.
"I shall write a song about this!" he declared.
"Well Edward" said Henry, no trace of mocking now. "Any famous words?"
"REPORTS!" huffed Edward. "Of my death...HAVE BEEN GREATLY EXAGGERATED. Though not by much."
...
That night, he forced himself home and into the middle shed. Duck and BoCo made sure that he was not spoken to and that he was left in peace. But they needn't have bothered. Gordon and James were respectfully silent.
So when Edward closed his eyes, there was no more talk of him giving up.
Nor would there be for quite some time.