Thomas and Lily
"You can't catch me, Conan!"
"Of course I bloody can! Wait and see!"
"Indeed I'll see! I'll see you through a cloud of dust!"
Two 14-year old boys were running down a forest, with the sunlight leaking through the tree branches.
Those two boys were students of the Vicarstown Secondary, as their baseball caps could clearly show. The reason why they, and many others, were at the Kelsthrope Forest, was because of a school event, designed to get students close to nature.
It was time for lunch, and after that, they were supposed to leave, which meant that the two friends had to go back with the group
Out of nowhere, Conan tripped on a tree root, and fell face-first into a small stream. Strangely, said water was colored black.
"Are you okay?" Asked his friend
"Yes, I am. Thanks for worrying" Conan spat some water "I swallowed some of it…hope this isn't anything poisonous" he muttered to himself.
Standing up and dusting himself off, he continued to run towards the lunch area.
Around half an hour later, the class was boarding a train, which was pulled by an engine with 6 small wheels, a short, stumpy funnel, a short, stumpy dome, and a short, stumpy boiler. Said engine was an E2-class tank engine, built by the LB&SCR, whose name was Thomas.
While Thomas was the station pilot at Vicarstown, he sometimes did other jobs, such as short distance passenger or goods trains. School Trains, being nothing more than glorified excursions, were usually reviled by most engines on the railway. Indeed, only Edward and Thomas would agree to pull them. Saloons were usually used for those trains, but it depended on how much the school would pay.
As Conan boarded the coach, and closed the door behind him, he got a weird feeling, like some unknown force was flowing through him, powered by a blazing fire. He paid no heed, as the train began to move, for his mind was rather on what his grandmother would cook for dinner that night.
Around 30 minutes later, the train arrived at Vicarstown, where everyone got off, with some students thanking him for the journey.
"Pleased to be of service!" said Thomas, as he whistled.
And with that, he cleared the station, as he had to return those coaches to their sidings, and arrange a goods train.
Back during its early days, the NWR had a total of 7 engines to run its services: Emily, a Stirling Single who ran the railway's express services. Max, a Caledonian Railway 55 class, who is better known as 87546, and served as a mixed-traffic engine alongside Payne, better known as 98462, a GNR H3 class. Both were kept in check by Edward, a Furness Railway K2 class. The final two engines wereSelena, a Midland 3835 class, and the heavy goods engine of the railway. And Olive, a GWR City-Class engine, who served as the second express engine of the railway. With the exception of Selena, who was painted red, all engines were painted in the NWR's livery: Light blue with red stripes.
That evening, all 7 engines were on their sheds, waiting for their final orders of the day.
"Evening, everyone!" said the Fat Director, joyfully
"Evening, Sir!" replied the engines
"First off, thank you Selena. According to the owner of the Toryreck Mine, the shipment arrived at the harbor ahead of schedule."
"Oh, I was just doing my job, Sir."
Of course, there was a darker undertone to it: That lead was to be shipped to a bullet factory, and then to the front, where it would be used to kill men. The Fat Director noticed it, and quickly changed the subject.
"And well done, Thomas! Not a single complaint regarding a rough trip! I am proud of you!"
"I find it surprising!" said Max. "One would think those delicate saloons would return here in splinters!
"Well, It wouldn't be his fault," added Payne. "His class is a failure, after all. He was obviously built on the cheap!" And both burst out laughing, but were quickly silenced by a death glare Edward shot them.
"I don't see what's funny," scoffed Olive. "With how rough his class moves at a high speed, he could have injured someone. He shouldn't have been given that train"
"Oh, shut the hell up!" exclaimed Emily. "Nothing happened, besides, would you have taken that train?"
Olive said no more after that.
"Thank you, Emily…what was I going to say…oh, yes! Tomorrow morning, we'll be getting a new engine. Edward! You'll be showing her around the line."
"Yes, sir."
"That's a good engine! Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night!"
Next morning, a loud whistle broke the silence, waking everyone up.
"Huh?! What the bloody hell?" demanded Payne.
"Must be the new engine…" muttered Edward, half-asleep.
And indeed it was: the signal turned green, and the engine steamed into the station. Said engine was a Lancashire and Yorkshire railway Dreadnought class, painted in a beautiful black livery with red stripes, and the number 1526 painted on her tender.
At the platform, the Fat Director was meeting up with her.
"I guess you must be Lily?"
"Indeed I am, sir! And I'm ready to turn this railway around."
"Uh—how so?"
"Well, I have 4 16 x 26 inch cylinders, 27,158 pounds of tractive effort, and a Joy Valve gear, which gives me a maximum speed of 90 miles per hour. It all comes with being a modern and capable express engine!"
The Fat Director had a feeling he knew how that engine was, but he decided to shelve his suspicions.
"I see…if you would proceed to the sheds, you could meet with my other engines."
"Certainly, sir."
She soon steamed off towards the sheds. Her first impressions, however, were far from positive on the other engines
"Hmmph! I see why I was bought. This railway is a mess!"
"I beg your pardon?" demanded Emily.
"A Stirling Single! I thought they had all been demoted to branch line duty, if not scrapped! Why are you still pulling the express?"
Emily began to say something, but Lily had already moved on to other engines.
"A K2?! Why, the Furness Railway is facing bankruptcy because of its horrible locomotives! You should have requested the final firing when your railway closed!" She paused, and then took a look at everyone else "Such a mixed lot…and none of the best classes there are…except the City-class, but reaching a hundred miles per hour is no great feat. I could do it myself any day!"
And with that, she got into the turntable, spun around, and backed up into the shed.
Edward began to argue with her over her comments on his home at Furness, since it was not facing bankruptcy. In her mind, however, it was: She believed that their engines were too outdated to keep the line going. And then, she proceeded to bombard everyone else with the same rhetoric.
During the first week since Lily had arrived, opinions on her were mixed: while her being more modern made her stronger compared to Emily, her attitude made her near unbearable to work with: she knew she was more modern compared to Emily or Olive, and always made sure to rub it on them. She seemed to especially like rubbing her modernity on Emily's face.
Lily was also rather bossy: she liked everything to be perfect, perfect in her mind at least, and even the slightest imperfection irritated her. All day, she would bark orders at anybody she came across for any perceived offense, be it her crew or the other engines. And I'm sorry to say, poor Thomas, being the station pilot, bore the brunt of her bossy attitude.
"Move out of the way, puffball! I need more coal than you!"
"Move faster, slowpoke! I'm due to leave soon!"
"Ew! No no no, this won't do! These coaches are too dirty! Send them back and clean them more!"
Things like this irritated the E2 considerably, and he grumbled about it.
"That Lily thinks she's better than me!" he snapped one night. "She has no authority to boss me around! I know how to bloody do my job!" Most of the other engines ignored him. Edward, on the other hand, felt sorry for Thomas.
"You're right," he agreed. "She shouldn't be telling you what to do: that's the job of the Fat Director. Here's a tip: next time she orders you around, refuse."
"That's going to show her!" Thomas exclaimed. "Thank you Edward! I'll try it tomorrow!"
The next day dawned, and Thomas left the sheds to fetch a train of 4-wheeled coaches. Lily was already at the station siding when Thomas brought her train in.
"What are these?" Lily asked.
"Coaches, stupid," Thomas snarked.
"Don't play coy with me!" Lily snapped. "These coaches have no corridor connectors! I need to be pulling corridor coaches, not these wooden boxes!"
"Too bad: these were the coaches I was ordered to give you," Thomas responded.
"I order you to take these back and fetch me some new ones!"
"NO!"
Lily stared in anger.
"What…did you just say?" she growled.
"You heard me, missy!" Thomas responded. "I've had enough of you bloody telling me what to do and I'm putting a stop to it! You don't run this railway, Sir Topham Hatt does! If you have a problem with these coaches, collect your bloody preferred coach type yourself. Now shove off and quit telling me how to do my job!"
And with that, Thomas steamed off, not giving Lily a chance to respond. Lily felt rather incensed by this.
"Come on, Lily," soothed her driver. "We're due to leave soon. Let's just couple up and get going." Reluctantly, Lily did so, all the while thinking about Thomas. As she departed, the E2 stood on a siding.
"Worked like a charm," he chuckled. "Next time, she'll think twice before bossing me around."
But she didn't: Lily confronted Thomas that night in the shed.
"You got some nerve refusing to listen to my orders!" she scolded.
"You're the one who's got nerve," retorted Thomas. "You do nothing but boss me around all day. You don't own the railway."
"Listen to me, wimp," said Lily sternly. "Railways have a hierarchy: Express engines like me are at the top, we have the right to order others around. Then there's goods engines, doing the other less-important jobs. And at the bottom are shunters like you. You do as you're told when you're told."
"Bloody rubbish!" Thomas snapped. "There's no such hierarchy: we're all engines!"
"Thomas is right, Lily," said Edward. "It's not your job to run the railway: we have the Fat Director for that."
"Don't be an imbecile!" Lily snapped. "He can't be around all the time, somebody has to fill in for him!"
"Well it certainly wouldn't be you!" Thomas called out. "I'm sick of listening to your bloody orders: coaches are coaches and you need to stop having a problem with what I give you!" And with that, Thomas went to sleep, leaving a fuming Lily to brood.
The next morning, more coaches were needed on the express to accommodate more people. The train was deemed too heavy for Lily alone, so Max was ordered to assist. But there was a problem: the points leading to his shed jammed against him, leaving him trapped in there.
"Shouldn't have wagered with Payne that this was gonna happen to him…"
"Thomas," said the Fat Director, "with Max trapped and everyone else busy, no other engines are available. You'll have to assist Lily."
Thomas beamed with excitement.
"Right away sir!"
Lily stood at the platform and was surprised to see Thomas backing down in front of her.
"What is the meaning of this?!" she demanded. "I don't need help from a tiny tank engine like you!"
"The Fat Director disagrees," said Thomas cheekily. "He asked me to double-head this train with you Lily."
"If I need assistance, I'll get it from a tender engine like me. Now shove off, that's an order!"
"No way, puffball," Thomas responded. "I'm not listening to you."
"How dare you!" Lily shrieked. "The hierarchy…"
"Shut the heck up about your hierarchy: there's no such thing among engines!" Thomas snapped. "I was told by the Fat Director to assist you and I'm obeying HIS orders! Now knock it off and deal with it!"
"I won't!" Lily snapped back. "You little engines should know your place! I demand to see the Fat Director!" But the Fat Director had to attend to business elsewhere, meaning there was nothing she could do. The guard blew his whistle, and the two engines departed.
Lily did not enjoy the journey: to her, things were going too slow. She blamed it all on Thomas.
"Move faster! We're going too slow!" she ordered.
"I won't listen to a fusspot like you!" Thomas snapped. "Besides, we are going fast. You're just too lazy."
"I'll give you lazy!" Lily shouted, and she bumped him. The coaches, inadvertently, were also bumped.
"Be careful! Be careful!" winced the coaches.
"Stay out of this, cattle trucks!" she barked at them.
"Hey, don't mistreat the coaches like that!" Thomas scolded.
"You got some nerve giving me orders when you won't even listen to MINE!"
"You have no authority to give me orders!" Thomas shouted. "For an express engine, you certainly are rough with coaches."
"You're making me be this way!" Lily shouted back. "This wouldn't be happening if you weren't going so slow!"
Other than that, the first journey was mostly uneventful. But during the return journey, things reached a breaking point when climbing the Maron Incline.
"Speed up, you bloody teapot!" roared Lily.
"I'm going as fast as I can!" snapped Thomas. "It's not exactly easy to speed up while hauling a heavy train up a hill!"
"I knew I shouldn't have accepted your help! You're doing nothing but adding weight to this train!"
"Stop fussing! We're nearly at the top!"
Lily was so busy arguing with Thomas that she didn't pay attention to what she was doing. Suddenly, there was a splintering crack! Lily's driver blew her whistle several times, warning the train to stop. They did so, just before the platform at Maron.
"What's going on?" Thomas asked.
The crews examined Lily, and the trouble was soon found.
"You've burst your safety valve Lily," said her driver. "You won't be pulling this train now."
"Well, take me back!" Lily ordered.
"No time for that," said Thomas' driver. "We're late enough already. Thomas will just have to manage alone." He then strode up to the E2. "Do you think you can do it?" he asked. "It's heavy, but there should be another engine at Killdane."
"I'll give it my best shot!" Thomas responded.
"No you won't!" Lily screeched. "You'll take me off and take this train back!"
"No Lily, I'm taking us both to Killdane," Thomas retorted. "YOU will come with me, and I don't care if you like it or not!"
Lily didn't like it, but her crew agreed to this.
Before setting off again, the crews loosened the couplings, thus putting less pressure on Thomas, and allowing him to start up the train one coach at a time. Still, it was not going to be easy.
With much puffing and straining, Thomas got the train into motion. He couldn't go as fast as Lily, and the train was much heavier than what he was used to, but he struggled on.
"I'll get there or burst, I'll get there or burst," he panted. Lily didn't say or do anything: she just sulked.
Slowly but surely, the train made steady progress. After what seemed like hours…
"I've got there at last!" Thomas declared, and exhausted but triumphant, he pulled into Killdane. Edward was there with a goods train. The passengers came out and cheered.
"We were expecting a long walk," they said, "but you brought us here safely!"
The Fat Director was pleased too.
"I'm very proud of you Thomas," he said. "You managed to pull this train all on your own despite the odds. You're a really useful engine!"
"Thank you…sir," panted Thomas, out of breath.
"You were splendid indeed," praised Edward.
"Now then," said the Fat Director, "leave Lily here, have a drink, and take these trucks back to Vicarstown. Edward will take this train the rest of the way." Thomas obliged and shunted Lily into a siding while Edward backed down onto the train.
"As for you," said the Fat Controller, turning to Lily, "I've heard all about you giving orders on my behalf, as well as your opinions on a hierarchy among engines. Well let me tell you this: Thomas is right, Lily: the only one authorized to give orders to other engines is me, and only me. You've no right to play director, that's my job. There is no hierarchy among engines, all orders are to come from me and me only."
"That's ridiculous!" Lily snapped. "You can't be around…"
"SILENCE!" bellowed the Fat Director. "I don't care what you have to say: if I'm not able to, I have staff that can relay my orders. Once you're repaired, I shall put you on goods trains until I can trust you not to take over MY job."
And with that, the Fat Director walked away.
—-
Meanwhile, Conan was having a very, very bad day.
It had all started that morning, when he felt the fire inside him burn stronger than before. Ignoring that feeling, he carried on through school: Math, grammar, and reading came and went, and soon, he was in his French class.
Then, he began to feel hot inside, with his blood beginning to literally boil. He tried to pay attention, but he felt like he was breathing smoke, and he was soon covered in sweat.
Still, he managed to power through his class, and, as soon as the bell rang, he raced out of the classroom and towards the nearest drinking fountain.
He took a very, very long drink, but that didn't calm the heat inside him. It actually seemed to add more fuel to the fire. To make matters worse, his next class was PE.
Surprisingly, as soon as they were made to run laps, Conan felt himself filled with sheer raw power, and soon had overtaken everyone. That burst of power was short lived, however, as he soon felt like all his energy had been sapped by an unseen force.
Trying desperately not to collapse, Conan pressed forward, each step feeling like he had a block of lead tied down to his feet, almost as if he was trying to pull a train up a hill.
After that, the next exercise involved climbing a rope, Conan had never made it past the first quarter, and he dreaded trying again, especially in his current state.
"Your turn, Peters," said the teacher, not bothering to look up from his magazine
"That's not my last name…" muttered Conan, as he began to climb.
At first, all was going perfectly, with the blonde boy surprised by his own strength and stamina, even as he still felt like he was dragging rocks.
Near the top, however, it happened: A horrible crack and a deafening shriek assaulted his ears, causing him to let the rope go in surprise! The fact he used his head as a landing gear didn't help matters, and the intense pain caused him to black out.
During his sleep, Conan would see images that did not make sense to him: 5 tank engines, painted in black, and all sentient, working at what was obviously a dockside shunting yard. One of those engines saying something to a man, who seemed to be the director. Said engine hauling a goods train up a hillside. And what seemed to be the same engine arriving at Vicarstown station, and then painted in NWR blue.
Those images repeatedly played and replayed, mixed with many others in no particular order.
"These images must mean something…but what?"
Suddenly, Conan woke up, finding himself lying down on his bed. It was clear his grandparents heard of the incident at PE class.
"Grandma must've given them bloody mongrels a tongue-lashing…and Grandpa probably brought me here ASAP, then returned to join in the screaming."
Sitting up and staring in the mirror, he noticed he was wearing a bandage, which was partially covered in red
"Blood…How am I still alive? That fall should've killed me! Not that I want to be dead, it's just…puzzling."
His mind soon shifted its focus to what he had seen while unconscious, spending a good while on trying to make sense of it.
"If those are those engine's memories, why did I see them? It would make more sense that it was a hallucination caused by brain damage…on second thoughts, scratch that…Still, how and why was I seeing that? It makes no sense…unless…"
Thinking quickly, he extended his arm towards his nightshelf, where his favorite book, "A scientific analysis on sentient vehicles", was and quickly went to chapter 9: "Urban legends"
"One particular wild legend," read Conan quietly, "says that the origins of sentients involve a place called "the magic railway" and the energy of that place is what gives them life. Proponents of this theory suggest that should someone enter in contact with the magic, said person would develop a permanent bond with a sentient vehicle, sharing emotions, memories, and feelings"
Closing the book, Conan laid back on his bed, with a single thought raging on his head
"I need a job at the NWR…if what this book says is true…that may be the only place I could ever find employment at"
To be continued…