"When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so we are all connected in the great Circle of Life." – Mufasa, The Lion King (1994)

THE LION AND THE ANTELOPE

Written by Zack Wanzer and Rachel Ravens

Set between Blue Mountain Mystery and King of the Railway

Crocks Scrap Yard is located near Wellsworth on the Brendam branch line. Old machinery is often brought there to be broken into pieces, loaded into trucks, and then taken to the ironworks at Killdane to be melted down and used again. Years ago, Trevor the traction engine had been sent there to be scrapped before Edward came along and persuaded Reverend Charles Laxey to save him from such a fate.

Very few engines enjoy going to Crock's Scrap Yard – even Edward himself felt unnerved going there at times – because it's a painful reminder to engines like Gordon of what happened to many steam engines on the mainland. For the likes of Douglas and Oliver, it's a reminder of what nearly happened to them, and for Emily and Barry, it brings back awful memories of being stuck in a scrapyard for years on end, without any hope of being saved and restored.

One day, Edward was taking some trucks to the scrapyard, where the grappling crane would collect the metal from them. As the old blue engine went to get a drink, he heard a very loud creaking sound.

"Hmm?" He blinked. "Driver… I don't have any rusted parts, do I?"

"No, ol' boy," he soothed. "You're in fine condition."

CRACK!

Both engine and crew jumped at the sound.

"That sounds like something's happened with the grappling crane!" cried the fireman. He quickly went over to investigate what had happened, and saw several workers surrounding the crane.

"Well, that's torn it!" said the foreman. "We can't repair the crane with all that wear and tear. It will have to be scrapped now."

"Now that's ironic," Edward said under his breath. "I wonder if it means the place will shut down…"

Despite what Edward had believed, the scrapyard instead decided to buy a new crane to replace the old one; it had since been taken to pieces and brought to Killdane to be melted down. On top of this, two rails now sat close to the nearest runaround siding, although they were further apart from each other, so engines couldn't use them.

"What do you make of that development, Edward?" asked Gordon.

"Well… I have no idea," admitted the smaller engine. "All I do know is… the scrapyards are still in operation, as much as I hate to admit it. Besides the ironworks, where else can broken machinery go?"

"Yes, like Stevie and the Coffee Pots–"

"Gordon, please."

"Sorry, Edward," he sighed. "Even now, I still find those deaths completely unjustified."

"The best thing we can do is keep going," said Edward. "That's what our old friends would want."

Ultimately though, come the new year, Donald and Douglas were coming up with a goods train from the Little Western. The twins loved these double-headers, and exchanging news with each other. On this run, Douglas was leading the train.

"Douggie, did ye hear that Salty wis repainted green by mistake during Christmas?" asked Donald.

"Na," said Douglas. "Wha wid be daft enough tae mix th' colors up?"

"Dinae be harsh oan th' workman, Douggie," said Donald. "He wis red-green colorblind."

"Oh," Douglas realized. "Ah understand. Still, 'twas a guid thing we didnae hae that problem whin oor numbers wur… painted… ower…"

"Douggie?" asked Donald. "Whit's wrong?" But then he caught sight of what caused Douglas to stop talking; there, on the short stretch of track of Crocks Scrap Yard, was a big yellow diesel-powered crane with black warning stripes and a large claw on the end of his arm.

"Hello!" the crane called cheerfully. "I'm new here. Have you lived here a while?"

"Aye, we hae!" Douglas said fiercely. "'N' we wantae keep it that wey!"

"Dae us a favor 'n' leave us alone!" snapped Donald. With that, the twins raced away, much to the crane's confusion and disappointment.

"I was just trying to say hello…"

Donald and Douglas arrived at Brendam docks, both feeling rather shaken with their encounter.

"What's up with you two?" asked Cranky. "You're usually never this nervous when you come down here!"

"Aye, what's gotten yer crankpins in a twist, mateys?" added Salty.

"Thir's a new scrapyard crane!" gasped Donald, backing up. "'N' he… 'n' th' crane… 'n'…"

"Donnie, watch out!"

CRASH!

"Ugh!" groaned Cranky. "I just finished loading those trucks!"

"Wha… oh, sorry, Cranky," said Donald.

"Donnie, ye rest oan that siding," said Douglas. "Ah'm getting Mrs. Kyndley."

It wasn't long before the other engines found out the news. It was Douglas who took charge of the meeting.

"A new crane down at Crocks Scrap Yard, much less a sentient one?!" cried Oliver. "No wonder Donald's all shaken up."

"Poor Donald," gasped Duck. "We'll all have to support him in any way we can. Douglas too."

"Whoever would get enjoyment out of working at such a place?" asked Gordon. "It's disgraceful, that's what it is!"

"Disgusting!" agreed James.

"Despicable!" added Henry.

"Scrap is no one's friend," said Barry. "We all must stand together against this crane!"

"Everyone," interjected Molly, "are we absolutely sure this crane is out for our metal?"

"Molly, of course he is!" snapped Arthur. "Anyone who works in a scrapyard is a killer. We all need to be extra careful!"

"I can think of two certain diesel shunters who may be 'friends' with this crane…" muttered Jinty.

"You don't know that he will!" cried Molly, but no one heard her. Their paranoia was right through the roof.

As it happened, those same two diesel shunters were coming along to pick up scrap from the scrapyards, along with a reluctant third one.

"Oi, look 'ere, Bert, Diesel!" called Arry. "There's that new crane the blokes at Crocks just bought!"

"Think 'e'll want to be friends with us?" asked Bert.

"Oh, Oi know it, Bert," smirked Arry. "Anyone 'oo works wit' scrap is a friend o' ours."

"Oh, great…" Diesel muttered. "Two's bad enough, but three?"

"Hmm?" The crane looked down curiously. "Oh, are you three here to collect this lovely scrap?"

"Yeah, that's roite, mate," grinned Arry. "Glad to 'ear that there's someone else out there 'oo shares our views 'bout scrap."

"Ah, yes," said the crane. "Oh, there's quite a collection here! Old cans, a bit of a brass bed, some twisted bits of a telephone line…"

"Maybe 'e's a little too into scrap, e'en fer us…" muttered Bert.

"Shut it, Bert!" snapped Arry. "Er… sorry, mate. We didn't catch yer name. Oi'm Arry, an' this 'ere is Bert and Diesel."

"Reg is the name," said the crane, "and collecting scrap's the game."

"Collecting scrap," said Diesel. "So… where did all this come from?"

"Hard rubbish collection, mostly," Reg explained. "Whatever can't be taken down to the dump at Peel Godred is sent here."

"'Ave you ever scrapped anyone before?" asked Arry.

Reg almost jumped out of his metal at that question. "I… well, I…"

"Did you, or didn't you?" Arry asked again. "It's not that 'ard of a question, ya know!"

"Don't push him!" snapped Diesel. "It's probably a subject Reg isn't comfortable with."

"Oh, loike when you went soft with–"

"Don't. Go there."

"Er, lads," said Bert, "at this rate, we're gonna be late gettin' back to Killdane."

"Fer once, you 'ave a point," sighed Arry.

Hmm… what could that stuff with Reg have been about…? Diesel thought.

The black 08 knew he was not going to get far on his own due to many of the engines being distrustful of him, especially after the Dieselworks fire and the Luke incident. But Reg was a decent crane – he could sense it. So, he waited until he was sent to Crocks Scrap Yard on his own.

"Ah, hello again, Diesel," Reg greeted. "I'm glad at least someone is able to greet me without running away."

"Well… there's actually a reason why engines are scared of you," said Diesel. "It's nothing personal, Reg. Let me make that clear – it's just… scrap. Many engines and rolling stock were near victims of the cutter's torch – Douglas ran away with Donald; Oliver was taking his brake van Toad to safety; Emily and Barry were left to rust; Donald was nearly melted down by a crane alive… and that's only a few."

"Oh my…" said Reg, realizing what Diesel was getting at. "I didn't think they'd take it this hard. I'd never hurt an engine, even if I was told that they were to be broken up for scrap."

"I knew you wouldn't," said Diesel. "My two brothers nearly killed several of the engines I mentioned… and they got Duck's brother, Collet." He sighed. "I know Duck doesn't blame me for it; I wasn't there when it happened, but… I wish he escaped."

"I wish my friend escaped too," sighed Reg.

"Your… friend?" asked Diesel. "Do you remember what their name was? Or at least, what they looked like?"

"He was a black tender engine with the 4-4-0 wheel arrangement, numbered 62614," said Reg. "He was called Marvin… but he hated that name."

"At least it sounds better than being called 'Bowler'," shrugged Diesel. Reg raised an eyebrow. "Better ask Oliver that one."

"It was sometime back, when diesels were starting to become more popular…"

Past

I was built for working in a scrapyard. At first, I was excited to be doing my job; what machine wouldn't be? But… when I got there, I was in for a shock. There were rows and rows of poor, innocent engines waiting to be cut up. Some were utterly defeated, some were crying out in despair, some were raging at the world…

But one seemed deafly silent and still, and remarkably conflicted with his situation.

"Er… excuse me," I called to the engine. "What are you doing here? You don't seem to be in as bad shape as the others."

"Oh," said the engine. "I… I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. Steam is ending, and, well… there's nowhere for me to go."

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, my good sir."

"Don't call me that!" he spat. I swallowed at that comment. Was he just as depressed as the others? Then I quickly realized that was a stupid question. Scrapyards are a death sentence to engines.

"Well… if you tell me your name, I won't call you that again," I promised. "What would your name be?"

"Marvin," sighed the engine. "But… I don't like that name."

"I'm Reg," I replied. "I think Marvin is a nice name. Why don't you like it?"

"I don't know," Marvin admitted. "I mean… maybe I should rephrase that. I like the name Marvin, but it… doesn't suit me."

I didn't quite understand what he meant, but, if he was going to be… ugh… scrapped at some point, I decided to make his last moments as comfortable as possible. "Well… do you have something in life that made you happy, Marvin?"

"Oh, I did," His eyes lit up. "I had some special friends down at Yarmouth Harbor. Three little steam trams named Holden, Flora and Toby. They would always talk with me, and Toby once took me to the seaside."

I asked Marvin some more questions about his life, and the two of us were soon chatting and laughing like old friends. I tried making conversation with the other engines, but… they were too scared to talk to me. How could I ever blame them?

As the scrapyard was something of a prison-slash-graveyard, it didn't surprise me that some engines were dying onsight… not that it made things any easier. And one day… my world turned upside down.

"Marvin?!" I cried. "Oh, Marvin! Where are… no! Oh no no no! Of all engines, why you?!" I sobbed all day, but none of the still-living engines believed I was being genuine.

"You're just like all the murderous cranes!" snapped one.

"You pretended to be Marvin's friend so he would fall into your trap!" sobbed a second.

"You'll be sorry if word gets back to his tram friends!" called a third.

I was already in hot water… I didn't touch the scrap that primarily came to the scrapyards… and Marvin's scrapping was the final straw.

Present

"I had knocked about several scrapyards after that," Reg finished. "It was the same old story – I refused to work."

"You… really didn't like your work there, didn't you?" asked Diesel quietly.

"I couldn't work with the remains of engines," sobbed Reg. "Knowing they were once living, breathing machines like me. And I lost my first friend…"

"I'm sorry, Reg…"

The guard's whistle blew, and Diesel departed. The little shunter had a lot weighing on his mind.

"Poor Marvin," he said to himself as he neared Crovan's Gate. "Reg took it badly enough, but Toby… I don't know how he would react to hearing that news." Do I have to be the one to break the news to him? he thought. After the fire incident, I doubt Toby will listen…

"What's this about an engine named Marvin?" said a female voice.

The black 08 slammed his brakes on, and glanced over. There, on the platform to the Norramby branch, was Molly.

"Oh, I, er… heard a story about an engine named Marvin," Diesel admitted. "It… didn't end well."

"How does it go?" asked Molly.

Diesel recounted the story Reg told him, and Molly listened intently. When he finished, Molly slowly blinked her eyes.

"Did you… know Marvin too?" asked Diesel.

"Yes," Molly admitted. "A little too well…"

"Oh…" gasped Diesel. "I'm…"

"We have to go to Reg, now!"

"Now?" asked Diesel. "I'll be late for…"

"Come, Diesel," ordered Molly. "I need to be completely sure about my assumption."

"What about your passengers–"

"Arthur can take care of them." She bustled away, and Diesel followed, completely confused.

"Molly, what has gotten into you?" asked Diesel.

"I just have to be certain…" The yellow engine braked to a halt when reaching the scrapyard. "Reginald?"

The crane glanced up in surprise. "I… I only told one engine my full name."

"Was she painted black and wore the number 62614?"

"She?" gasped Reg. "Er… no… the engine had the name Marvin and was male. But the rest matches the description."

"Wait, the works made two engines numbered 62614?" gasped Diesel.

"No," said Molly simply.

"So that means…" Reg gasped. "Marvin was a girl?!" He bit his lip. "Oh… how did I not realize?! I didn't get to apologize to her before she was scrapped."

"It's okay, Reg," smiled Molly. "I forgive you. I didn't fully realize until I escaped."

If Reg wasn't surprised before, he certainly was now, and so was Diesel.

"That engine… was you?" gasped Diesel.

"Yes," said Molly. "Here's what happened while you were asleep, Reg."

Past

I was very downcast, unsure of what to do with the little life I thought I had left. But Reg was so kind to me… And much to my shock, I heard two familiar voices.

"Marvin!" cried Flora. "There you are!"

"Oh, thank goodness we got here in time," panted Holden.

"Flora, Holden!" I gasped. "What are you two doing here? You could be caught."

"Rescuing you, of course," said Flora. "Oh, be thankful Toby went to a tramway; he would have been devastated."

"But… I don't think I can go on," I sighed. "No matter what, I just… I can't feel happy with myself."

"Yes, you can," said Holden. "Just tell us what's bothering you. We'll support you no matter what."

"Well… I just… haven't felt myself," I admitted. "My voice, my name, my whole life… I feel like I've lived a lie."

Flora closed her eyes for a second. "How about we give you another name? Would that help?"

"Maybe…" I thought about it for a few moments. "Hmm… my first driver, I remember very well… could I be called… Molly?"

"Molly?" gasped Holden. "Isn't that a girl's–"

"It's beautiful!" smiled Flora. "Come on, Molly. I know two people who are worried sick about you."

"Oh, yes, my crew!" I gasped. "We have to find them!"

Present

"Was Holden… you know?" exclaimed Diesel.

"Oh, goodness gracious, no," Molly explained quickly. "He was just surprised and didn't fully understand the situation, but he did apologize afterward. When I came out of the works again, I was rebuilt as a girl, and so here I am today."

"Molly," said Reg, "I am so glad to see you again, and that you've found happiness."

"Thank you, Reg," smiled Molly. "But… have you found happiness?"

"I… not really," sighed Reg. "Besides you two, the other engines are scared of me… save for Arry and Bert."

"Hmm…" Molly pondered. "I think I have an idea, Reg. Diesel, we need to gather up everyone at the sheds."

"I'll do my best," said Diesel.

It took a lot of convincing on Diesel's end, but he and Molly did just that. It was a shock for some engines to see the shy, quiet Molly take the stand on the turntable.

"Engines," she called, "I know you are all frightened to approach Reg, and I can understand why."

"Too right you are," said Pug. "No way we are going near him!"

"But," said Molly, "before I tell you more, I want to tell you a story my driver told me. Once upon a time, there was a lion. This lion had not long became of age, and he was out on his first hunt, and was excited. He came across an antelope. He went into a hunting crouch, and was intent on killing it. However… he quickly realized the antelope had feelings and emotions like him. At the last second, he retracted his claws and his jaws closed on empty air. The antelope got up, unhurt, and ran away. The lion vowed to never hunt again. The antelope lived… but the lion starved himself to death."

The engines all looked on with a mix of shock and surprise.

"That poor lion," gasped Paxton. "His kindness…"

"…ended up being his downfall," Molly finished. "He didn't want to kill, but he had to for survival."

"So… what does a lion and an antelope have to do with Reg?" asked Scruff.

"I know!" gasped Charlie. "Reg is the lion who was starving himself and we are the antelope!"

The engines all looked on at Charlie in shock.

"That's correct, Charlie," said Molly. "Though, to be more precise, I was the antelope. I managed to get away from harm thanks to Flora and Holden, but Reg… he was sold off several times before ending up here. He kept refusing to work, so eventually, he would have been the one on the scrap pile."

"So… that's why he's working in a scrapyard now," said James. "He doesn't have a choice in the matter."

"Exactly, my dear," said Molly. "It's no different to a mortician dealing with deceased people and arranging for their final burials."

"We… really messed this one up," sighed Gordon.

"And you can make this right," said Molly. "Whenever you see him, just give a friendly whistle, toot or smile. And chat with him if you have time. He's very sociable."

And indeed he was. Reg was happily working at the scrapyards now, but with the engines who had serious trauma with scrap, the crane would always be more careful with choosing his words. Some engines still get unnerved by him, but always think about Molly's story, and that lions need to have meat for survival. And they know at the end of the day, Reg would see the engines as his friends, not his job.

THE END

Author's Comments

Reg, like Marion and Timothy, showed up as if he'd been around for a while in Tale of the Brave, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing as it could've been a behind the scenes development. Like what I did with The Monster of Brendam with Marion and Precision and Perfection with Timothy, it did leave me wondering how the engines reacted to Reg initial arrival. I'd imagine that they would've been frightened of him at first, considering that he works at one of the least desirable places to visit, which may be why whenever he appears afterward, the engines aren't scared of him (The Truth About Toby could be argued, however). I always knew that Molly was going to be a major character in this story, but I wasn't expecting Diesel to play as big a role as he did here, but it actually ended up working in the story's favor as despite what happened with Diesel 10 Strikes Back and Blue Mountain Mystery, he still has a bit of good in him and helped in proving Reg wasn't a bad character; it's just a part of his job.

Upcoming stories:

- Diesels and Bluebells - BoCo's first day on the Bluebell Railway as ambassador to the North Western Railway is met with controversy as some enthusiasts were expecting a steam engine instead of a diesel. Can BoCo win those enthusiasts over?

- Catering Gator - What happened when Gator returned to Sodor for the holidays? (Christmas 2023 story)

- A Special Friend for Duck - Duck witnesses an incident at Knapford station in which a child is belittled for being unable to handle big environments.

- Serious Sigrid - A new diesel is brought to help out on the Arlesdale Railway, but Rex, Bert and Mike soon find out that she'll stand for no nonsense from anyone.

- Caroline's New Friend - On one of her travels, Caroline encounters an elderly bus named Edgar, who hasn't worked under Sodor Roadways for years, so she tries to find someone who could save him from a worse fate.