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Mike's Whistle

Written by Broa Island

Proofread and Corrected by the "Sodor: True Stories" Team

Adapted from various Railway Stories by the Reverend W. Awdry, Andrew Brenner & BNSF1995

Isle of Sodor: 1967

Rex and Bert are two of the very small engines on the Island of Sodor, that work on the Miniature Railway near Arlesburgh. In fact, they are so small that, when standing, their Drivers are taller than their cabs!

However, Rex and Bert aren't the only engines who work on the railway. There's also Mike, the Red Engine. Mike can be rather grumpy at times, and he doesn't much like pulling passengers either. Above all else, though, Mike is a safety freak who won't hesitate to call out flagrant safety violations no matter how big or small, much to the annoyance of his colleagues.

One morning, when he arrived at the Transfer Yard, Duck's whistle was out of order. They'd worked late the night before, and his Driver and Fireman had used it to boil eggs for their supper. But something had gone wrong.

The next morning, when he wanted to whistle, Duck found he could only make "burbling" noises. He was upset about it. He limped into the station trying to stay under the radar. But it soon proved to be a wasted effort, as his whistle stood out like a sore thumb.

"Was that really you, Duck?" Rex laughed. "I never knew you could boil an egg on a steam whistle!"

"Neither did I," replied Duck bluntly. "And I don't recommend it."

"Alright, alright. Don't go on about it, Duck," sighed his Driver. "We'll clean out your whistle presently when we've got time. Meanwhile no one will mind."

Just then, Duck was given the all-clear, and the Pannier squelched sadly away.

But his Driver was wrong. Someone did mind.

"Duck shouldn't make such horrible sounds!" Mike grouched. "It's shocking! If engines can't whistle properly, they should be withdrawn until the problem is resolved! Boiling an egg on one's whistle; the notion alone sickens me!"

"Calm down, Mike," chuckled Bert. "It was only an accident, and a small one at that."

"And accident that could've been easily prevented," sniffed Mike. "Sure, it was a small mistake, you're right in that regard. But a small mistake left unchecked can grow into a potentially life-threatening situation!"

"Engines have whistles for a reason!" the Red Engine continued. "To warn people and animals that we're coming, and that they should stay clear of the lineside. If an engine's whistle fails, how is anyone to know if they might be in danger?"

"Listen Mike," said Rex, "you've brought up more than a few valid points. But even so, if I ever had a whistle like yours, do you know what I'd do?" He paused, impressively. "I'd lose it!"

"The idea!" spluttered Mike. "I'd just said whistles are important, what don't you get about that?! Engines without whistles aren't proper engines at all!"

Mike went redder than ever with fury. His steam pressure went up suddenly, and his safety valves blew off!

Whhhooooossssshhhh!

"Oh dear, is Mike overheating again?" asked a voice.

Mr. Fergus Duncan is known as the Small Controller, because he is in charge of the Miniature Railway. But he's not actually small. In fact, he was a rather lanky man.

"I shall have to put you on lighter duties, Mike," said the Small Controller overlooking the day's schedule. "I suggest you take the Passenger today."

"N-no Sir, Please Sir, I'll be fine! You know I prefer hauling goods to passengers."

"Sorry Mike, but I can't have you blowing off steam like this. Bert shall take your goods train today, and you shall take passengers, once your safety valve is back in order."

Mike decided not to object any further. Albeit rather begrudgingly.

He backed down on the coaches, whooshing angrily. A moment later, his Driver, his hand placed against his temple, stood up from his little seat in the tender and walked into the station building. But Mike was in too much of a foul mood to notice.

Eventually though, the Stationmaster walked up to the Red Engine. Accompanying him was a young man that Mike did not recognize.

"Mike," said the Stationmaster, "I'm afraid that your Driver has suddenly taken ill. Too much to drink last night I presume."

"Are you kidding me?!" seethed Mike in fury. "First the others' complete disregard of whistles and now this! How could today get any worse?"

"And this here is Zeke, your relief Driver," said the Stationmaster, gesturing to the young man next to him.

Mike stared. "Never mind," he muttered to himself after a moment of silence.

The relief Driver was relatively new to the job and didn't understand engines that much. He was a very inquisitive lad who marveled at the various bits, bops and do-dads that made up Mike's controls. Mike, however, didn't share his enthusiasm.

When everything was ready, Mike started with a rude jerk! "Come on! Come on! Come on!" he puffed to the coaches.

The Driver was caught off guard. Like most people, he wasn't used to Sentient Vehicles, and had no idea they could drive themselves without any human assistance. Wanting to know what to do, he tried to get Mike's attention. But the Red Engine either didn't hear or just ignored the poor man.

"This guy's in a flaming temper about something," he remarked. Needless to say, the Driver was relieved when they reached the Top Station in one piece.

Mike moved onto the turntable. The Driver looked him all over but found nothing wrong. He tried to sooth him like a horse, but Mike still sizzled crossly. "I don't understand it," he said at last. "What is your problem, Mike?"

"My problem is that no one on this railway seems to understand the importance of safety! The only reason your working with me today is that my other Driver came to work under the influence! What possesses people to think that they can bend the rules without any sort of consequences?!"

The Driver didn't know how to respond. So, he didn't bother, and instead took his place in the cab.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Mike's steam pressure rose higher and higher as they began their return journey. It wasn't long, though, until the Driver heard a thin persistent tinkle.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That funny sound?"

"Oh, don't you start!"

"No, listen. I think there's something lose on your boiler!"

"Really?" Mike pondered for a quick moment. "Well, you better tighten whatever it is at the next station."

But they never got the chance.

It was the cow's fault. She stood on the track, busily cropping grass growing on the lineside. She took no notice of the train as it approached.

Mike stopped. He wasn't frightened, as he'd met this particular cow before. If anything, the encounter only made him even more cross than he was before!

"Get out of my way!" he bellowed. But the cow just flicked her tail and kept on eating.

His Driver and a few passengers tried to "shoo" her away. But no matter how hard they tried, the cow remained firmly where she stood.

Mike's Driver felt exasperated. "Right then," he said at last. "You asked for it, you stupid animal!" He dashed for Mike's whistle chain, taking long quick strides across the ballast.

"NO, WAIT!" cried Mike. But it was too late.

The Driver tripped on the sleepers, catching the whistle chain in his failing hands, his full weight coming down upon it! Mike's whistle blew long and loud! All of the excess steam his temper had built up was now escaping all at once. The noise grew louder, and louder, and louder!

Until finally Mike's whistle cap shot up like a rocket and landed in a field!

"Oh…" said the Driver meekly. "So that's what was lose…"

"You… IDIOT!" was Mike's reply.

The cow, undisturbed, just kept on grazing.

Mike's Driver and Guard searched the field all over for the whistle cap. But there was no sign of it. The passengers were becoming impatient.

"We're going to be late," they said, "and miss our connection! What's so important about a whistle anyway?!"

"Oh, I have to whistle at certain places along the line to let others know I'm coming!" protested Mike. "It's 'Orders'!"

Soon, Driver and Guard returned to the train defeated. "It's no good," they said. "We've searched everywhere, but your whistle's well and truly gone. I'm sure they have a replacement a replacement of some kind," reassured the Driver. "I'll ask them at the Bottom Station."

Mike gasped dramatically at what his Driver was suggesting. "I WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" he balked. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT AN ENGINE WITHOUT A WHISTLE IS A LITERAL DEATH-TRAP! I'M A DEATH-TRAP AT THE MOMENT!"

"But you're only a little engine," one passenger scoffed. "How much damage could you possibly cause?"

"Small I may be, but this small choo-choo still weighs over ten tons!" Mike retorted. "We might not be as big as the engines your used to, but if you get in our way, we'd still put you in the emergency room. IF YOU'RE VERY LUCKY!"

The passengers didn't seem to care about Mike's rant. They all argued with him, with both Driver and Guard trying and failing to defuse the situation. They swarmed around Mike like angry bees. One man even delivered an impatient kick to the Red Engine's footplate and another to his tender! But no matter how hard they tried, Mike refused to move.

The cow, having finished her breakfast, moved off the tracks under her own power. But everyone was too busy arguing to notice. She and some of her cattle friends then settled down by the lineside to watch the scene play out.

"This is great entertainment," they thought. "Now all we need is some popcorn."

But it wasn't just the cows who took notice of Mike's predicament. A Sentient Land Rover had been helping the farmers in the fields and had seen everything. She quickly drove down to the next station and told the Stationmaster that the line was blocked.

Unfortunately for Mike, Rex was also at the station. He listened in on the Land Rover and the Stationmaster's conversation, was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing!

"Lost his whistle, has he?!" chortled Rex. "That'll teach him not to be so puffed up in the smokebox."

The Stationmaster, on the other hand, didn't think the situation was funny at all. He quickly telephoned the Small Controller, and Rex was given permission to reverse down the line to find Mike.

Mike wasn't happy to see Rex backing down upon him. Both Drivers and Guard quickly herded the still fuming passengers back to the train. Once everything was ready, the train restarted, Rex giving a triumphant blast of his whistle as if to rub salt in the wound.

Needless to say, Mike was unusually quiet throughout the journey.

After delivering his goods, Bert returned to the Top Station just in time to see Rex and Mike pull into the station as a doubleheader. Some of the angry passengers stormed the station office to complain to the Small Controller, while others just put the situation behind them and quickly boarded Duck's train instead.

"Rex?" Bert asked innocently. "What's that?"

"It's Mike," answered Rex knowingly.

"It looks like Mike. And it's pistons sound like Mike's. But it can't be Mike, it's just not possible."

"Why do you say that Bert?"

"Well, among other things, it's got no whistle! It's shocking! We don't approve of his sort, do we? After all, what was it that Mike said again?"

"I remember now!" Rex exclaimed. "Engines without whistles…"

"Aren't proper engines at all!" Bert finished, and the two engines howled with laughter.

Mike seethed, looking down at his buffers. "Just for the record, I hate both of you."

"Oh no!" cried Bert. "He's about to throw a tantrum!"

"Oh, the horror! The absolute horror!"

"OH, SHUT UP! JUST SHUT, UP!"

"That's enough!" boomed a voice.

The engines quickly silenced as the Small Controller, accompanied by a few of Mike's passengers, strode across the platform towards the head of the train. Mike's heart sank. In all the excitement, he hadn't thought about what the Small Controller would say about the incident. And now he was dreading it.

"Mike. A word, please."

Mike, shamefaced, gazed up at the Small Controller who towered over him like a lamppost. He was about to attempt to apologize for his behavior, but the Small Controller spoke before he could.

"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

"YOU'RE WHAT?!" Mike, Rex, Bert and the passenger all cried in surprise.

"Indeed," said the Small Controller, his ears still recovering from the sudden noise. "While his attitude could have been much better, Mike has showcased his undying devotion to the safety of his passengers and to those on the lineside and kept up that devotion even when put under extreme pressure."

"B-but, that engine of yours made us late!" the passengers protested. "You should be disciplining him, not praising him! We pay to use your railway, and we should be shown more respect in return!"

The Small Controller turned on his heel and pointed angrily at the passengers. "Let me tell you, that if Mike had gone down the line without a working whistle, you might've gotten into a serious accident! Rules are in place for a reason! And let's all be thankful that nothing happened today that could be used to prove that point! I suggest you all get out of my station unless you want the authorities to get involved!"

The passengers were forced to admit defeat and, still grumbling, they scrambled over the footbridge and into Duck's train like scolded dogs.

"As for you, Mike," the Small Controller said turning back to the Red Engine. "I recall you mentioning how you prefer working with freight over passengers."

"Yes, Sir," said Mike. He liked where this was going.

"Well then, how would you like to help out in the ballast quarry for a few days?"

Mike was delighted. "Oh, yes, Sir, please, Sir, thank you, Sir," he cried.

"Good engine. I shall give your Driver your new schedule when he returns." He turned to walk back to his office. However, he stopped, and placed a comforting hand on the relief Driver's shoulder. "Do not fret, lad. First day's always rough. I should know."

That made the Driver feel just a bit better about the whole situation.

The three little engines were now alone. Mike smirked. "Well now," he began cheekily.

"Oh no," muttered Bert.

"Lord give us strength," Rex whimpered.

It was now their turn to endure Mike's teasing.

Duck would've loved to stay and watch, but he had a timetable to keep. He puffed out of the station with a healthy "Peep! Peep!" of his whistle.

"At least my Driver finally cleaned my whistle out," Duck said to himself. "After all, it would've been dangerous to leave it as it was."