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Granpuff

Written by the Reverend Wilbert Awdry

Adapted by MuscleCat100, Memesandtreasure, & BNSF1995

Proofread by the STTS Team

Isle of Sodor: March, 1969

It was a cold, windy evening on the Island of Sodor. A storm was blowing in from the west, and the engines at Knapford Sheds found it hard to sleep through the howling gusts of air rushing about, just outside of the warmth the walls surrounding them provided; not even Blake, who had become accustomed to sleeping through storms during her time in the Knights of Steam, had been successful in her efforts to do so.

"What we need," suggested Yang, more than a little desperate to make time pass by just a bit faster than the sloth-like pace it had become, "is a story."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," yawned Chloe, the bags under her eyes quite the clear indication of the toll that her exhaustion had been taking on her. "But does anyone have a story to tell?"

"As long as it's not another one of Blake's real-life horror stories…" muttered Tim. He had heard enough of Aaron and how he slowly became unhinged.

Ruby spoke up next, her boundless energy having carried her through the long hours the best out of the gathered engines. "Driver told me a story! Would you like to hear it?"

They all agreed, and so, Ruby eagerly began.

Once upon a time, three little engines lived in their own little shed on their own little railway. Duke was brown, Falcon blue, and Stuart green. Duke was the oldest, and had been one of the first engines on the line. He was named after His Grace, the Duke of Sodor. Duke was proud of this, and wanted everything "just so"; whenever the others did anything they shouldn't, he would say, "That would never suit His Grace!" Other engines came and went, but Duke outlasted them all. Stuart and Falcon used to call him Granpuff.

Duke was fond of them, and tried to keep them in order. They were fond of him, too, as he was so wise and kind, but they did get tired of hearing about His Grace. Sometimes they would wink at each other and chant solemnly: "Engines come and engines go, Granpuff goes on forever!"

"You impertinent scallywags," Duke would say indignantly. "Whatever are young engines coming to nowadays?"

"Never mind, Granpuff. We're only young once."

"Well, you'd better mind, unless you want to end up like Stanley!"

"Ooooh! Granpuff. Whatever happened?"

"Stanley," Duke sternly began, "was war surplus. He was built in America, and very cocky. He rode roughly and often came off the rails. I warned him to be careful."

"'Listen, Bud,' he drawled, 'In the States we don't care a dime for a few spills.'"

"I'd often told him that we do here," Duke said, "but he was the sort to just laugh it off."

"But he didn't laugh when the Manager took away his wheels, and said he was going to make him useful at last."

"Why? W—W—What did he do?"

"He turned him into a pumping engine. That's what. He's still there, behind our shed. He'll never move again."

Stuart and Falcon were unusually good for several days! Stuart and Falcon became Useful Engines, and all three were happy together for many years.

Ruby's expression turned dour as the sound of the pouring rain pattering against the roof outside grew heavier and heavier with every second.

"But then hard times came. The mines closed one by one, and the engines had little to do. At last, their line was closed, and people came to buy the engines. 'We'll take Stuart and Falcon,' they said; but no one wanted Duke. They thought him too old."

"Cheer up, Granpuff!" called Stuart, as they went away. "We'll find a nice railway, and then you can come and keep us in order!"

All three of them laughed bravely, but not one of them thought it would ever come true. Duke's Driver and Fireman oiled and greased him. They sheeted him snugly, and said goodbye. They had to go away and find other work. Duke was alone, locked up in the shed.

"Where's His Grace?" he wondered. "It's not like him to forget me." But His Grace had been killed in the Second World War, and the new Duke, Sir Richard Robert Norramby, was only a boy and hadn't heard of his Little Engine.

"Oh, well," Duke quietly murmured to himself. "I'll go to sleep. It'll help to pass the time."

"Years passed. Winter torrents washed soil from the hills over the shed. Trees and bushes grew around. You wouldn't have known a shed was there, let alone a little engine asleep inside it."

"What happened to Stuart and Falcon?" asked Tim solemnly, enraptured by his girlfriend's short and sad tale.

"Oh, they're still around. First, they went to the Aluminium Works up near Peel Godred, but that didn't last very long. After that, they ended up on the Skarloey Railway. The Thin Controller gave them new coats and new names. Stuart became Peter Sam, and Falcon became Sir Handel. They prefer their new names. That was about two decades ago, but they never forgot Granpuff, and often talk about him when alone."

"So that's where those two came from," said Chloe, thoughtfully.

"Wait," questioned Blake, "how do you know that if they only talk about Duke when alone?"

Ruby looked hurt. "What, you've never eavesdropped while shunting?"

"Fair enough." The Westerner conceded, giving way for Ruby to continue on.

"Anyways, they were excited to hear that the Duke was coming to Skarloey's and Rheneas' 100th birthday. But they were most disappointed with the Duke who actually came, for he was only a man. That, and Duck got confused and thought Peter Sam was talking about the Dukes of the Great Western Railway."

"The 3252 Class Dukes," murmured Blake, "I knew plenty of them."

"What of the MSR?" asked Chloe, "What became of the roadbed?"

"Some of it became the Arlesdale Railway. I heard they're trying to purchase the right-of-way for the Mountain Road so they can run trains all the way to Peel Godred." Ruby yawned. "Well, would you look at the time! We should go to bed, we're going to be busy in the morning."

"Yes, indeed," agreed Tim, "gonna be a lot to clean up after this one. I'm just glad landslides aren't as common here as they were on the S&C. I'd love to see James try and deal with any fallen trees!"

The other engines chuckled, and one by one they fell asleep, the raindrops on the shed roof slowly fading away.

Thank you all for supporting this Fan Fiction thus far. There is more to come, but we shall be devoting most of our resources and time into the YouTube videos.

If you haven't already, be sure to subscribe to the "Broa Island" YouTube channel for more "Lost Stories" content. From there, you can also join our Discord Server, where you can talk directly to the authors and share your own ideas for the series.

We're always looking for new writers, video editors and other creative minds to help bring the world of Sodor and the surrounding Sudric Islands to life.

This isn't the end of the Fan Fiction, as we've still gotta wrap up the Gordon arc among others. I just wanted to thank you all for reading while I had the chance. Hope to see you on the Discord soon!

-Broa Island