A/N This is based on the episode Mavis, so I thought Mavis herself would be the best narrator. My FanFiction buddy typed her young self as a type that's harder for me to write, but I did my best.
Hey, it's me, Mavis. This is about when I was young and new to this island.
I'm a diesel engine who works for the quarry company shunting freight cars in their sidings. I have 6 small wheels hidden by side-plates just like Toby's. When I first came, I was young and full of my own ideas. I loved rearranging things too and began putting Toby's cars in different places every day. This made Toby cross.
"Freight cars," he grumbled. "should be where you want them, when you want them."
"Fudge," I said, and flounced away.
At last, Toby lost patience. "I can't waste time playing "Hunt the Cars with you. Take them yourself."
I was pleased. Taking cars made me feel important, so I loved it. At the station, Diesel oiled up to me.
"Toby's an old fusspot," I complained.
Diesel sensed trouble and was delighted. He's never been very nice to the steamers, unlike me. He calls them "steamies", as other mean diesels do.
"Toby says only steam engines can manage freight cars," I continued.
"How absurd," squirmed Diesel. "Depend upon it, Mavis. Anything steam engines can do, we diesels can do better.".
Diesel knew nothing about cars, but I didn't realize this. I did later on, though. Toby's line crosses the main road behind the station, and for a short way follows a farm lane. Frosty weather makes the muddy lane rock-hard and very slippery. Toby stops before reaching the lane. His fireman halts traffic at the crossing and then he sets off again. By using the heavy cars to push him along, he has no trouble with the frosty rails in the lane and across the road. It is the only safe thing to do in this kind of weather. Toby had warned me and told me just what to do.
"I can manage, thank you," I replied. "I'm not an old fusspot like you.". I was too full of my own ideas to listen to old Toby, even though I'm not like some other diesel who are dreadful to the steam engines.
The freight cars were tired of being pushed around by me.
"It's slippery," they whispered. "Let's push her around instead. On, on, on!" they yelled. My fellow engines have sometimes called them Troublesome Trucks, the ones that do things like push us engines around.
I took no notice. Instead, I brought the cars carefully down the lane and stopped at the level crossing. All traffic halted.
"One in the headlamp for fusspot Toby," I chortled.
But I had stopped in the wrong place. Instead of taking Toby's advice, I had given the cars the chance they wanted.
"Hold back! Hold back!" they cried.
"Grr up!" I ordered. I might be a female engine, but I'm not soft.
The cars just laughed and my wheel spun helplessly. Workmen sanded the rails and tried to dig away the frozen mud, but it was no good. Everyone was impatient.
"Grr augh!" I wailed.
Toby was in the yard and heard the news. "I warned her," he fumed.
"She's young yet," soothed his driver. "And..."
"She can manage her cars herself," interrupted Toby.
"They're your cars. really," his driver replied. "Mavis is supposed to stay at the quarry if Sir Topham Hatt finds out.".
Mmm, yes," said Toby thoughtfully.
He and his driver agreed it would be best to help me after all. An angry farmer was telling me what I could do with my train.
"Having trouble, Mavis?" chortled Toby. "I am surprised."
"Grr ash!" I said. Toby coupled up to me.
With much puffing and wheel slipping, Toby pushed me and my freight cars back. The hard work made his fire burn fiercely and his fireman spread hot cinders to melt the frozen mud. Toby pushed me, along with the cars, all the way to the top.
At last, they finished. I was helped by old Toby and his crew.
"Goodbye!" called Toby. "You'll manage now, I expect.". Toby told me about the exchange between him and his driver next time he saw me at the quarry, where he took the workers to and from with his coach. He's a nice old engine, I've come to see.
I didn't answer. I took the cars to the shed, and scuttled home to the quarry as quickly as I could. I'm not the most emotional engine, but I just wanted to get back to my home after that. I was glad for old Toby's help, though.
A/N Reviews welcome, but respect my English and Thomasverse. I'm not British, they are, so I use their dialect when comfortable and mine otherwise. With a TRS story, I may have book shades come in.