[Don't mind me. I'm just a line bump]
A Second Chance
Written by Hufflepuff Batboy & Broa Island
Proofread and Corrected by BNSF1995
Based on "Coal" by the Reverend W. Awdry
Isle of Sodor: 1934
It looked like the North Western Railway would never recover from the damages Gordon, Henry, and James' strike had caused. When the three big engines were finally let out of the shed, they found that there punishment wasn't over just yet, as the Fat Director had given them limited privileges until he could trust them again. Gordon was demoted to goods work, James was assigned to maintenance work and assisting with the construction of the new line up to Peel Godred, and Henry found himself piloting coal trains up-and-down the island. Everywhere the three engines went, they were greeted with death glares and hateful comments.
To make matters worse, Thomas and Ruby's repairs (among other damages) had put a massive dent in the railway's already fragile budget. In an effort to save the company from bankruptcy, the Railway Board were forced to import a cheaper source of coal. While this decision did save the railway, it was quickly discovered that the coal was cheap in both meanings of the word.
Poor Henry always had trouble building up steam. Sometimes he could pull trains, but other times he felt as if he had no strength at all. Despite the green engine's efforts, he just couldn't cope with this new supply of low-grade coal, and he started failing more often and more frequently. All the other engines were still salty over the three big engines' destructive strike, and as such, gave Henry little to no sympathy. Even Ruby and Yang were uncharacteristically horrid to him! The only engines that seemed to be on Henry's side were obviously Gordon, James, and Edward, but Henry often forgot that.
I suffer dreadfully, and no one cares, Henry told himself more and more.
But Henry was wrong. Someone did care.
One November morning, the Fat Director arrived at Tidmouth Sheds as Henry and his fireman were both trying in vain to build up the green engine's fire. He had started to notice Henry's dwindling performance and had pieced together that something was wrong. The Fat Director let out a short cough to get Henry and his crew's attention. They were most surprised to see him.
"S-sir!" stuttered Henry, a hint of fear in his voice.
"Calm down, Henry, you're not in trouble or anything like that," said the Fat Director, "I just want a word with your crew." He then gestured for Henry's driver and firemen to come closer, and the two men obliged. "Now then, what seems to be the problem, gentlemen?"
The fireman mopped his face with a dirty rag. "Beg pardon sir," he said, "but the fact is the coal is wrong. We've had a poor lot lately, and today it's worse. The other engines can manage; they have big fireboxes. Henry's, however, is woefully inadequately-sized compared to his boiler and can't make the necessary heat."
The fireman was about to say something else when Henry cut in. "It's true!" he cried, "I'm a failed engine! Sir, I don't know why the hell you've kept me on this railway nineteen years now when I've been nothing but trouble for you! Perhaps it would be best if you get another engine instead of me!"
"ENOUGH HENRY!" boomed the Fat Director, both Henry and his crew were taken aback by the sudden outburst!
The Fat Director drew in a deep breath, "Let it be known," he continued, "that I'm still very disappointed by your recent behaviour, the same can be said for Gordon and James. But even so, as Simon here has clearly stated, these shortcomings of yours cannot possibly be your fault! As such, I believe you deserve a fair chance!"
Henry was speechless, he didn't know what to say. But even with the Fat Director's motivational words fresh in his mind, the green engine still remained sceptical about his future on the North Western Railway.
After exchanging quick pleasantries with Henry's crew, the Fat Director walked back to his car, deep in thought. Yes, he had promised Henry a second chance, but he knew that second chance might as well already been blown if he didn't find a solution to the coal problem first. As he drove back to his office at Knapford Station, the subject of alternative coal sources rained heavily on his mind.
It was only after he had pulled into the station's parking-lot, and had just closed the car's door behind him, that he suddenly had an epiphany!
"Welsh coal?!" spluttered Mr. Mann during the next meeting of the Railway Board. "Are you out of your bloody mind, Topham?!"
"I can assure you that isn't at all the case," replied the Fat Director sternly. He glanced up and down the long table which he sat at the head of. The six members of the Railway Board – Mr. Mann, Mr. Clef, Mr. Cimmerian, Mr. Conwell, Miss. Kiryu, and Mr. Patience – all had their eyes glued on Sir Topham Hatt.
"We all due respect, Topham," said Mr. Conwell, finally breaking the long and somewhat painful silence, "but you cannot be suggesting we replace our current coal source with another that has a reputation of being unreasonably expense? Not only that, but we'll have to import the lot from Wales on top of purchasing it!"
"Indeed!" put in Mr. Clef. "Haven't you raped the NWR's budget enough already?!"
"I do not approve of language like that being used in this office, Mr. Clef!" boomed the Fat Director. There was another long silence. The Fat Director took a deep breath, considering his next words carefully.
"Now," he continued, "I know that Henry isn't all that… popular among yourselves and the railway's financial department, but as I told him and his crew, he deserves a fair chance! None of you may see the potential in our Number Three, but I do! You're all wrong about Henry the Green Engine!"
"I couldn't put it better myself, Topham," said Mr. Cimmerian. The lanky red-haired man stood up from his chair to address the board. "May I remind all that Henry is a hybrid between a LNER A1 Pacific and a C1 Atlantic, a combination that should've created a locomotive with a powerful haulage capacity. However, as we all know, saying his construction was botched would be a cruel understatement!"
"I think I see where you and Topham are coming from, Mr. Cimmerian," cut in Mr. Patience. "With Welsh coal, Number Three will be a different engine!" With both Mr. Cimmerian and Mr. Patience on his side, it wasn't long before the rest of the Railway Board swayed their final decision in the Fat Director's favour.
"Very well," said Mr. Mann, "we shall place an order for one-engines worth of Welsh coal once this meeting has conceded." The Fat Director was about to express his gratitude when Mr. Mann quickly added, "On one condition!"
The Fat Director raised an eyebrow. "And what might that be, Mr. Mann?" he asked.
The engines would find out soon enough.
On the 2nd of December 1934, a non-faceless LNER C2 Atlantic, painted in his railway's iconic apple green livery, trundled over the Vicarstown Bridge, a long coal train clattering behind him. On his way to Knapford, the C2 glared at the other engines as he passed them. It was clear that this guy had no interest in making friends, and a huge wave of 'Oh no, not again' swept through the engines of Sodor.
Since the Welsh coal proved expensive, the Railway Board had an engine brought in from the LNER in the event they couldn't continue importing Welsh Coal, at which point Henry's performance would go down the toilet, so to speak. This engine's name was Klondike, and just Alfred and Cecil before him, he had an unhealthy superiority complex.
When he arrived at Knapford and saw a sickly Henry resting in the nearby siding, Klondike laughed rudely at the green engine. "No wonder your director called me here on such short notice! This railway must be in deep trouble if they've been relying on a weakling like you for God-knows-how-long!"
Henry said nothing. He was used to the insults by now.
It was lucky for Klondike that the Fat Director didn't hear him as he walked over to the two engines. When he saw a finely dressed man in a top hat approaching him, Klondike assumed correctly that he must be the railway's director, and quickly changed his attitude.
"Ah, you must be Klondike," said the Fat Director.
"That is correct sir," replied Klondike politely. "I'll just shunt these trucks away and then you can assign me to my first train."
"That will not be necessary," said the Fat Director just before Klondike had finished speaking.
The C2's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, sir?" he asked darkly.
"Frankly, we don't have the need for another engine at the moment. Purchasing you was the Board's decision, not mine. As such, I'm allocating you to relief duty."
"A RELIEF ENGINE?! BUT SIR-"
"That's enough out of you!" boomed the Fat Director, he recognized that tone of voice all too well. "After one too many incidents, I've found myself distrusting the way the LNER raises their non-faceless stock. We do things a bit differently here on Sodor, so I recommend you get your act together! Perhaps the story of our former NER S3 may give you some motivation to do so."
Klondike was about to retort, but quickly bit his tongue. After a brief moment of silence, Klondike just glared down at the Fat Director and simply asked "Sheds?" through gritted teeth. The Fat Director pointed in the direction of Tidmouth Sheds, and Klondike puffed away, shooting a death glare Henry's way as he did so.
"Excuse me, sir," asked Henry's driver, "but may I ask what this is all about?"
The Fat Director quickly explained to Henry's crew about the Welsh coal. "Once you've got Henry here fired up, you three can take the 10 o'clock local service to Barrow." He looked up at Henry and winked. "Consider this an early Christmas present, my dear engine."
Henry's driver and fireman were most excited. "Now we'll show them, Henry old fellow!"
Henry's crew carefully oiled the green engine's joints and polished his brass until is shone like gold. Kate shunted Klondike's trucks into a siding on the far side of the yard and workmen unloaded their contents into a line of coal bunkers by the track.
Henry had already lit his fire, so once the men loaded his tender to the brim with the new Welsh coal, the fireman 'made it' carefully. He put large lumps of coal like a wall around the outside, then covered the glowing middle part with smaller lumps.
"You're spoiling my fire," Henry complained.
"Wait and see," said the fireman with a smirk, "we'll have a roaring fire, just when we want it!"
Henry wasn't so sure.
But when he arrived at the platform to collect his coaches, Henry felt stronger than he had ever felt before! The water from his tanks boiled nicely and he had to let off excess steam. About a minute before Henry was meant to depart, the Fat Director came out of his office to see him.
"How are you, Henry?"
Henry was so overjoyed that he couldn't think of anything to say, so he just blew his whistle in a two-tone tune. The Fat Director understood the green engine's feelings immediately.
"Have you got a good fire, Jackson?"
"Never better sir," Henry's driver called from the cab, "and plenty of steam too."
"No record breaking," warned the Fat Director with a smile, "don't let Henry push himself too hard."
The driver laughed. "You should know better than to ask for the impossible, sir!"
Just then, the guard blew his whistle, and for the first time in his life, Henry steamed easily out of Knapford Station. He wanted to try and beat Gordon's mainline speed record, but his driver wouldn't let him.
"Steady, old fellow," he said, "there's plenty of time!"
Henry soon arrived at Elsbridge Station ahead of schedule. A few minutes later, Thomas steamed in with Annie and Clarabel. The blue tank engine was surprised to not only see Henry at the head of the morning local, but he was early too!
"Where have you been, lazybones?" teased Henry, "I haven't the time to wait for dawdling tank engines like you!" Before Thomas could retort, Henry's guard blew his whistle and the green engine sped away.
Thomas' eyes darted back-and-forth between Henry disappearing into the distance, and where the green engine had been standing only seconds earlier. Finally, after a moment of silence, Thomas shouted, "WHAT THE FU-
Next to Tidmouth Sheds was an old carriage shed the railway had once used to store their coach stock. Klondike, hidden in the darkness of the shed's interior, watched as Henry sped passed with his return passenger service. His class were in danger of being withdrawn from service, and he knew that, if he was to return to the mainland, the writing would be on the wall for him. A life on the NWR was probably the only thing that would save Klondike from a complimentary Final Firing, followed by a trip to the scrapyard!
And yet this… Henry threated his one chance at survival.
"I have to have a place here," Klondike said to himself, "I will not be bested by a failure!" And then, the C2 Atlantic began plotting a scheme to get Henry out of the picture…
Permanently!