Hello, sir.
Well...it's been a long time, hasn't it?
I apologize for the lateness of this letter, I have had quite a busy few months fixing everything up. It's a bit awkward, having been here so long and having not told them yet. It gives me little time to transcribe this letter to my driver, and even littler to actually get it posted. Especially considering how crap the postal service is on this Island. The Post Trains are over-worked and you can tell. It's not often that I catch Percy and Carlin arguing so fiercely with the Fat Controller. I recall very well Percy screaming that he was going to murder the Fat Bastard if he didn't get some rest soon.
His words, not mine.
But enough of that...you wanted me to write to you if I ever felt as thought I was suffering from a crisis of faith regarding the mission.
I have.
It all began...well, just a few weeks ago.
...
Percy and Duck liked working at the harbor by the sea. Well I assume Duck does, I've never really gotten a chance to know him. Thanks Asquith! So what if I'm not Ringo bloody Starr?!
Ahem.
The harbor was often free of some of the bigger nuisanc- I mean engines, who would come in and boss them about if their trains were not ready. Here, for the most part, they were their own masters. Which often resulted in Percy rearranging the trucks in the wrong order and innumerable stops for tea breaks, but the system strangely worked.
It was now summer, and they often had to work extra hard, long into the night. This resulted in Duck getting somewhat crankier with the trucks whenever he saw them, and Percy occasionally muddling up his words. But most would argue that there is no better place to be in those nights, and Percy would certainly agree. If for no other reason than the fact that it was just him and Duck, chilling out and laughing at their own odd jokes. Thomas occasionally joined them, looking for the latest crossword clue, which Duck always somehow knew.
Thomas often stormed out of these meetings. He was a bit of a bad sport about being made to look a tool.
The big ships brought passengers, usually complaining about the standard of the foreign food and how quaint British life was. Duck and Percy looked at each other and vowed never to take them to the seedier part of Sodor, for fear of accidentally having a group of corpses on hand. That was how naive the tourists the Island attracted were.
The cargo machines carried machinery, and other such things. The Fat Controller was aware that the Cold War was now officially over, but had ordered in anti-aircraft turrets. Just in case. It was often the job of Percy and Duck to carry these things around. It left Percy a wreck on most nights, and even Duck needed a stiff drink from time to time. They puffed back and forth the quay as the important cargo was unloaded.
But it was the mornings they enjoyed the most.
...
They noticed, that day on which our story takes place, that the horizon was packed with sails flapping against the blue sky, and canal boats waiting to be fixed. There was the Saucy Nancy, so named after the woman of the night who entertained there, and the Old Ragdoll, a canal boat that was awaiting repairs and named for the two ragdolls that rested themselves. There was the fabled White Fleet, that had just towed in a sailing boat by the name of the Bumper. And then there was the Fanny Ann, which...well, work it out for yourself.
There was something to be said for the regatta. The Island, as has been mentioned before in our tale, tended to suffer from certain pollution in respect to it's water. The River Els is only the first that, if you pardon the pun, springs to mind. Yet here, there was clearness. Clear blue water as far as the eye could see. Which was rare even for a dock. It did things to Duck, who often came here when he wasn't searching for whatever it was he searched for, to soul search.
"I wish I could sail to far off lands." he remarked at last.
Percy glanced at him. He could never get a read on Duck. "Engines can't go sailing. We don't float. Which means we can't just send James sailing off into the distance, more's the pity." He laughed at his own joke, but Duck ignored him. He still had his dreams. And his nightmares.
And those...those were things he could never talk about.
Suddenly they were rudely interrupted. Harold looked down at them with amusement. "Wakey wakey, Ducky!" He landed on a helpful pad and grinned that annoyingly disarming grin. "Don'tcha have work to do, old boy?"
"I'm looking-" Duck said through clenched teeth "-at the boats." Even his fabled calm was somewhat tested by the helicopter on occasions.
"That's the regatta!" whirred Harold.
"I didn't know that." muttered Duck sarcastically. "I thought it was just a pretty bit of water."
"Lots of boats! Lots of races! Lots of fun! I hover round in case I'm needed!"
"No one ever needs you Harold." growled Duck, suddenly aware that he was beginning to grow weary after such a long night's work. Longingly, he looked to the horizon. What it must be like, he thought, to be able to just GO. Silence. No worries.
Harold was still talking, when Duck remarked. "Do you ever go to the horizon?" He asked somewhat quietly.
"Yes!" said Harold, glad to be able to talk about himself again. "And beyond!"
Percy, who was still somewhat baffled that there was a world beyond Britain, added. "Didn't even think there was a beyond?"
"You ever go to other places at sea?" continued Duck, eyes still not focused on the helicopter. In his mind's eye, he saw Beyond. He saw Baghdad, and Turkey, and Holland, and Germany, and India and all the wonderful places he had never- would never, he corrected himself sadly, see.
"Certainly!" Now Harold was itchy to go. "I can land on ships you know! Anywhere! Anytime! Now, tar-rah, chaps!" And he flew away, quick as a flash, leaving a very befuddled Percy and a very ponderous Duck.
The latter sighed.
A bird then decided to empty his lunch all over Percy's face. Which spoilt the mood a little, to say the least.
...
For the rest of the day, Duck went about in a almost dream like state. He talked about the regatta almost non-stop, but in a way, Percy could tell he clearly wasn't even aware he was doing it. His mind and tongue were separate entities now.
At last, he lost patience. "Well Duck! You know what, I'm glad we're here and not out there! Our rails can take us to all the places we need to be! I don't see-"
"I know." Duck stared out once more. "Thomas gets it though. He knows what it's like to want to see the world."
"Oh don't go Thomas on me Duck!"
Suddenly, the alarm sounded, jolting both engines back into the present. "Oh great!" moaned Percy "Another bloody beached whale! Greenpeace is going to kill us at this rate!"
"That's an emergency!" snapped Duck's driver.
"No, I thought it was a peacock." Duck muttered back.
"I'll check with the harbor master." He was gone for what seemed like a second when he bounded back with bad news. "There's some bloody fool of a man who's hurt his hand at the regatta! We've got to take him to hospital, Duck. Harold's bringing him now! Come on!"
"I'll see you later Percy!"
"Likewise! Don't get distracted by the pretty water!"
...
"Do you think he always has that brass band playing that song for him, or is just me?" Duck muttered out of the side of his mouth as Harold descended self-importantly onto the landing pad. Duck came to a quick stop.
"Good to see you again Duck!"
"Yeah yeah likewise, where's the injured guy?"
"Coming now. Silly fool decided to try and stop the motor with his hand." The man was helped to safety by the snickering pilots, and Harold grinned at Duck. "Need to stay here, don'tcha know. Case of other emergencies. Otherwise I'd take this silly gent to hospital myself! Ta ta!" And he took back off again, leaving Duck to roll his eyes and start off as soon as the man was in his cab.
Duck set off on his journey as soon as he could. Suddenly, he felt his wheels connect with the track in a way they hadn't in a long while. He grinned and sped up as he raced through the countryside, over the three tiered bridge, over one of the many bridges, past towns and villages to the place where his driver knew where there'd be someone waiting through ESP. Or something.
As he puffed through the tunnel, Duck wondered vaguely if James's nose had healed yet. It was very amusing to watch.
At last, he arrived at Lower Suddery level crossing, where Bertie rushed up. "Couldn't get a ambulance!" he panted "So they sent me. A bus. I know right? It's pretty damn stupid but what are you going to do?" The man thanked everyone as he climbed into Bertie. "You were wonderful!" laughed the bus. "No wonder they call you Great Western!"
As he drove off, Duck smiled. "Percy's right I suppose. Engines are happiest when their wheels are firmly on the rails."
He then paused. "Mind you, coming from this Island, staying on the rails isn't exactly easy."
...
That night, both engines stayed a little longer at the quay. The air was warm and the sea calm, as the boats softly bobbed up and down. Percy had just taken a sip of his brandy when they heard a familiar buzzing sound.
"Shooting star over there." remarked Duck. "Make a wish, I guess. But if we get a talking cricket, I shall complain."
"Don't be daft. It's not a star. It's Harold probably, he's hovering overhead. If he's coming to brag-" Percy began. But something fluttered down towards Duck. His driver caught it, after the fireman got clonked over the head with it.
"It's a flag from the regatta, Harold's giving it to you as a present."
"Kind of him." Duck said. "He may have whirly arms instead of wheels, but he knows just how a engine feels."
"Still a asshole though."
"Yeah. See you in the morning. I wanna stay here a little longer."
"Cool." Percy puffed off. Duck stood there for the longest time, simply looking at the flag that had been given to him. He was touched. He then looked at his driver, and recognizing that look, both he and his fireman fetched some paper.
And began to take a letter.
...
A FEW WEEKS LATER.
"Duck, you haven't been out here all night, have you?"
Duck glanced back. "What? Oh, sorry Percy. No, only looking." He gazed out at all the boats. At the gulls cawing and the soft sounds of a town waking up, and of boats softly making ripples in the water.
Percy smiled, and looked at Thomas, who nodded. Without a word, they settled in besides Duck, and watched out over the seas.
"Thanks." Duck said quietly, to his friends.
Yes. Friends.
Duck still wonders about the lands beyond the horizon, and of all the places he'll more than likely never get to see. But he enjoys being with his friends most of all.
And I think he knows that sometimes, the best travels are those we can only dream about.
Don't you?
No need to answer, it's a very beautiful moment. I'm just going to wipe away this dust that got in my eye. You know how it is.