A/N Rusty To the Rescue's the basis of this, mish-mashed with the book story that was based on. Percy and Rusty tell it.
Hey, it's me, Percy and, along with Rusty, I shall tell this story.
"The bluebells are coming, ho-ho. The bluebells are coming, ho-ho." I was singing about bluebells.
"If you must sing, Percy," grumbled Douglas. "Can't you sing in tune? Anyway, our song's about cowbells."
"And mine's about bluebells."
"Then it's daft. Bluebells are flowers. Flowers can't come. They grow."
"My song isn't daft." I was indignant.
"It is that I can find about flowers. We have a song called Bluebells of Scotland."
But", I sad triumphantly. "The bluebells of England are different. They're engines and one of them is coming with his controller". "Didn't you listen?" I continued severely. "to the Fat Controller telling us about it?"
"I was away."
"Oh dear. I couldn't understand at all, but engines on The Other Railway aren't safe now. Their controllers are cruel. They don't like engines anymore. They put them in cold, damp sidings and then," I nearly sobbed. "They, they, cut them up.". Because of how kind I am, I hated The Other Railway cutting engines up. It made me very sad. Driver comforted me, saying "The controllers aren't cruel, but the railway board wants diesels. The controllers are sad to lose faithful steam friends, but they find places called heritage railways as they can, for the engines to go." , after Douglas replied to me.
"You're right there," agreed Douglas. "If I hadn't escaped, I'd have been cut up, too. It's all because of young diesels. They're all devils," he added fiercely.
"Fair play, Douglas," I reminded. "Some are nice. Look at Rusty or Daisy."
"Maybe so," answered Douglas. "I'd never trust one meself, but what I cannot understand is all of your blather about bluebells."
"The bluebells are kind people who want to save engines. They've made a place in Englas called the Bluebell Railway. Engines can escape there and be safe."
"Like me running away here?"
"Yes," I went on. "Just like that. If they are old or ill, a fitter makes them well. They can have their own special colors, all the coal and water they need and pull trains, too.". It helped me feel better, knowing about safe places for engines.
"That's braw hearing," said Douglas with feeling.
"The Fat Controller says Stepney was the first engine to escape there, so he's asked him to visit us and bring his controller."
"But," objected Douglas. "how about young diesels? Why didn't they catch him on their way?"
"We thought so, too," said Percy. "But the Fat Controller says there's no danger of that. Stepney's a match for any diesel. Besides, his controller will be there to take care of him. He's a brave engine for all that."
"But," said Douglas admiringly. "Fancy fighting his way through all those diesels, just to see us."
"Look, " "I squeaked. "The stations's crowded.
"Silly, how can I look unless I'd be a corkscrew?"
"Why have they all come? There's no train." But I was wrong.
The signal dropped, and from far away, an engine whistled. A gleam of yellow shone through the bridge girders.
"Here he comes," yelled Douglas.
We two engines whistled excitedly in welcome.
"Welcome," replied Stepney, and with passengers and people waving and cheery, he puffed proudly through the junction on the last stage of his long journey. It was good to see another tank engine safe and happy, because of the Bluebell Railway. Rusty tells the missing piece of Stepney's story.
Hey, it's me, Rusty and I shall Stepney's origin, which Percy mentioned, but not in detail.
In springtime, I love to visit a faraway place. It's filled with bluebells. The air smells sweet and I think there's no better place to be. One day, Thomas was passing by just as I was having a drink. Thomas and his steam drink water and I drink diesel fuel, so to speak. He spoke to me.
"Peep, peep! Good morning. Your driver looks a little worried. I wonder why."
"I don't know," I said. "But I soon will."
"Excuse me," I said. "But is something wrong?" I asked Driver this to find out what he was worried about.
"Yes, indeed," replied Driver. "They need another engine to help run this special line."
"A bluebell engine," I laughed. "Maybe I can find one."
Later, I saw Douglas and Percy. I had an idea."
"Can you help me find another engine?"
"Where?" Douglas wondered where I wanted help to find that engine.
"Where you found Oliver."
"You mean on the Other Railway?"
"Yes, I'm looking for a bluebell engine." And I explained everything.
"I'd like to help. But these days, it's only diesels that go there." The Other Railway, as it's called on Sodor, had coal and water only on heritage railway lines, but they had diesel fuel all over, due to dieselization.
Then I decided.
"So that's where I'll go."
"Take care."
I told Driver all about the plan and that night he came to the shed.
The manager says he'll make a home for the bluebell engine if you find one."
"Right," I said. "We'll find one tomorrow."
It took us all day to travel to the Other Railway. Darkness fell and the cold wind blew.
"Ooh, what's that?" I heard a noise that scared me due to the dark.
But it was only the sounds of the lonely scrapyard. Diesels, silent and still, lined up on guard.
"Who are you?" The diesels on the Other Railway didn't know me.
I plucked up courage.
"I'm a shed and sidings inspection diesel. Have you any engines in the shed?" This was part of my plan, so I could have access to the shed and sidings to find a bluebell engine there.
"No! None!"
I rallied again.
"Then what about the sidings?"
"One. We have one."
I grew braver still. Now, I knew they had a bluebell engine, perhaps.
"Then I'll just go and inspect."
A small engine with a tall funnel stood sad and alone in the shadowy siding. His driver was huddled in the cab keeping him company. With living engines, like my friends and me, our crew, especially Driver, need to be willing to comfort their engine to be able to work with us.
"Excuse me," I said. "Do you like bluebells?"
The engine looked startled.
"Yes, bluebells are beautiful."
"Then, you're going to see lots of them because I'm getting you out of here."
Everyone worked fast. It was difficult to set the fire, but soon it was glowing hot and Stepney had a good head of steam. Stepney turned out to be the tank engine's name. My engineer agreed to be Stepney's fireman. So off we set, past the bleak and brooding lines of diesels.
"Where is he going?" they hissed.
"Just down the line," I replied, and we chuffered quickly away.
"We've done it," I whispered. "We're over the border and back on our own railway. Mission accomplished."
When we arrived in the valley, a big welcome awaited us.
"We shall mend you and give you a new coat of paint," said the manager. He was glad to see Stepney.
His driver was delighted.
"You lucky old engine. You've been saved by the Bluebell Railway."
"And my friend Rusty. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Rusty." I felt good to be Stepney's friend, because I'm a nice little diesel. I know many steam engines aren't fond of diesels, but some of us are kind. It's just the meaner ones smear us for some of the steam engines.
Now the little engine is as happy as can be and helps the passengers who visit at bluebell time. His name is Stepney, but everyone calls him the "Bluebell Engine".
A/N Sometimes, I mix the book stuff in with the episode, but since this episode touched on what the book didn't, this was the only way I could think of to mish-mash them, have Percy tell the book story and Rusty tell the episode, filling in the gap the book left.