Chapter 81: Haunted Henry
It was a moonlit October night on Sodor. Edward and Henry were resting in the common house when an owl hooted.
"Whenever that owl hoots, mist rolls in," Edward told Henry, "And legend says that where there's mist, a ghost isn't too far behind. Take care out there tonight, Henry."
"Ghosts are nothing but urban legends," Henry sniffed, "You shouldn't pay much attention to those silly myths, Edward. It'll make you go crazy. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a train to take in a few minutes. Sir Topham Hatt is repairing the old lake line, and he assigned me to take some supplies to the top station."
But no sooner had Henry left the station with his train than a mist had rolled in. Too make matters worse, Henry didn't know the line well, and coupled with the dark it became hard to see the line ahead. All Henry could see were odd shapes ahead of him, shapes that looked like gangly fingers reaching out from the depths to pull him under. These were only tree branches, but to Henry they looked ominous and malevolent.
"There's no such things as ghosts, there's no such things as ghosts," Henry mumbled, finding it harder to believe that more and more as he continued. Soon, the mist cleared up, and Henry could clearly see ahead. Attached to a tree was a sign.
"Beware the viaduct," Henry read, "Nobody said anything about a broken viaduct. And there's an amber lamp on that tree over there, and a fogman's coat. Something weird is going on. I'm not staying here."
He quickly reversed to the last station and reported the sighting to the stationmaster. He promised to send some policeman in the morning.
The next day, Henry spoke to the policeman and Sir Topham Hatt.
"We couldn't find anyone out there who could have been messing around out there," the leader said, "But we did find a disabled viaduct. Could have been serious if you had gone any farther."
"Well, it looks like you got lucky there, Henry," Sir Topham Hatt, "Fortunately, the workmen managed to fix the viaduct, so I need you to take the train back there tonight."
Henry didn't like that at all, but he felt much better when it was time to go. But the feeling didn't last long, as Gordon rushed through the station with the evening express. Henry nearly jumped out of his skin. Some nearby schoolboys laughed.
"Oh look, Henry's spooked."
"I am not!" But he was.
Soon, Henry was back on the old line. Mist was everywhere, and he could barely navigate.
"It's a good thing these tracks only go one way," he said to himself, trying to take his mind off things. "
Then, Henry saw a light flickering in the old station. And the crossing gates closed all by themselves. This was the last straw for Henry.
"Ghosts!" He cried. "Edward was right."
He quickly threw the regulator all the way opening, surging the train forward. A mysterious figure in the station watched the train pass.
Up ahead lay a ravine. Rocks had fallen on the line, and by the time Henry saw them it was too late. The trucks, which were being pushed by the engine, hit the rocks and toppled over, into the deep gorge.
Henry wasn't badly hurt, but he was embarrassed.
"Gordon and James will never let me live this down."
But things only got worse from there, as Henry heard footsteps coming.
"It's the ghost!" Henry cried. "Please don't hurt me! I didn't mean to disturb your resting place. I'll leave right now and never come back. Just don-"
"What on Earth are you blubbering about?"
Henry opened his eyes to see and old Fogman standing in front of him. His name was Old Bailey, and he was very cross.
"I tried to warn you about the ravine," he said, "That's why the crossing gates closed. Why didn't you heed my warning?"
"I'm sorry," said Henry, "I thought a ghost was behind all of this. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
"Just let me be the stationmaster for the top station when the line opens, and I promise to never spook you again."
Sir Topham Hatt agreed, and work on the line continued. It was finished by the next spring, and Old Bailey cut the ribbon to open the new line.
"Let's hear it for the friendliest, err, ghost on the island," Sir Topham Hatt said, and everybody was happy.