In The End
Traintober 2022 Day 31 - The End
Hey, we made it! It's over! I don't have to stay up every night and write this! It's done! It's 3:35 AM on a Monday! I'm going to bed!
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Summary - In the end, it all matters.
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Later
He rose to wakefulness with all the grace of a drunk. He was in motion, rocking down a line that hadn’t been ballasted properly.
“Hey you, you’re finally awake.” A voice called to him, and he opened his eyes, his vision floating and swirling for a moment as his eyes refocused to the light.
A diesel was pulling him, facing so his “A” end was towards the 307. The engine looked most unusual, with a paint scheme that he’d never seen before. Red upper works, with a broad yellow stripe that ran along the midde.
“Where am I?” He asked, still quite groggy.
“The better question is when.” The diesel said simply.
“What?”
“You’ve been asleep a few years, old man.” The diesel said, concentrating on the world around him as he slipped past a signal. “The world’s changed.”
The 307 looked closer at the diesel in front of him. The logo - located in between the two front windscreens - wasn’t BR, instead a trio of animal heads - what they were exactly he wasn’t certain. Down on the engine’s face, just above the left eyebrow, was the company name: ENGLISH, WELSH, & SCOTTISH - A WISCONSIN CENTRAL COMPANY. Above the right was something curious - most engines had their numbers painted on, and those bestowed with names usually had a plate mounted on each side. This diesel, however, had a stamped metal plate that proclaimed him to be 58031 - SHEBOYGAN SPIRIT just above the other eyebrow.
“I don’t recall anywhere named Sheboygan.” The multiple unit said slowly.
“It’s in America.” The diesel replied. “New owners named us after places there.”
“New owners? What happened?”
The diesel looked at him, expression gruff but a twinkle of mischief in the eyes. “The Tories.”
“What?”
“The Arrows. They broke 'em up - sold the pieces to the highest bidder.” The diesel looked straight up, and the 307’s gaze followed, landing on a trio of flags located above the windscreen of the diesel - Canada, America, and the Union Jack. “Americans took almost the whole pot, as far as us goods diesels go.”
“Surely you jest.”
“I don’t, and don’t call me Shirley.” The diesel actually winked, leaving the 307 in shocked silence for some time, his mind whirling. I’m free of them.
“Where am I going?” He asked as they rolled slowly past a work train. The bad ballast had improved dramatically, no doubt the work crew’s handiwork.
“Little preserved line in the forest - somewhere in Gloucestershire.”
“Gloucestershire? There’s no electric lines in Gloucestershire.”
“Beats me mate.” ‘Sheboygan’ rolled his eyes. “It’s 1996, anything is possible.”
That shut the 307 up. Five years? I’ve been asleep for five years…? He lost himself in his swirling thoughts for some time, and didn’t notice as the train came to a stop at a station.
Sheboygan was quickly uncoupled, and left him at the curved platform. The station name was “Lyndley Junction”, and try as he might, the 307 had no idea where this place was or what railway it was. Judging from the state of the place, it was some throwback to the age of steam.
“And with this, I take my leave.” Sheboygan called as he was driven into the station’s passing loop. A member of station staff threw the switch, and he was off with a roar of his motor. “Enjoy the future, old man! I think it’s going to be quite bright! And go Packers!”
“What?”
“You heard me!”
The odd diesel motored out onto the main line, and was out of sight in a moment. The 307 sat at the platform, feeling more and more overwhelmed.
-
A short while later, men came up to him, one of them already speaking rapidly. “-cannot believe we got him for the price we did! It’d be more expensive buying actual coaches.”
“Yes, well, s’not perfect.” Another said. “There was the accident…”
“Inspection said everything was fine.” The men reached him. “Hello! Welcome to our railway!”
The pleasantries continued for some time, during which he was informed that the railway did not have any electric wires, and intended to use him as coaches - they’d just extended the railway and were getting more guests than their current stock could handle.
“But,” They said earnestly. “We might be able to get something for electric traction in the future, if there’s enough interest from the heritage rail community.”
He supposed that they meant well enough - he’d learned a long time go when someone was saying truths, or if they were lying with every fibre of their being - and went along willingly when a small tank engine came along to collect him.
The engine was a blue saddletank, with red lining. 307 paid close attention to his nameplates, and found nothing too shocking, just the name WILBERT.
Of much greater interest were the dark tinted spectacles that were perched on the engine’s nose.
Wilbert laughed when the 307 asked him, as they were coupled up. “Oh, they’re not reading glasses, they’re sunglasses!”
This did not clear anything up. “Forgive me for not understanding how much the world has changed while I was-” He began, before Wilbert interrupted him.
“Oh no, I’m the one who should be sorry.” He said apologetically. “I forget how strange this must seem to others - you see, we’ve got a diesel that the men are restoring. Poor thing got shoved into the back of a building way back when, and they plum forgot about her until a year or two ago; Her eyes got so used to the dark that she can’t handle the sun anymore.”
He paused for a moment to whistle for the level crossing just outside of the station, as they set off down the line. “Anyways, one of the volunteers got the idea to give her some sunnies to help her see better, but she got a mite self-conscious about it, cause they look so strange on us engines.”
“So you wear them to make her feel better?” What is this railway?
“Oh, that was the idea at first, but let me tell you, it works a right treat when I’m working on sunny days - cuts right down on the glare!” The engine then looked at him in a vaguely conspiratorial way, and the sunglasses raised off the bridge of his nose, pivoting around a motorized hinge mounted to each side of his boiler. “And, between you and me, I quite like them. I feel quite fashionable - I can see why people wear them all the time!”
Again, the very idea that he was living in the future was almost overwhelming to the 307, and he said nothing as the lush woods gave way to a small village. The railway’s works were here, and they pulled into the station so Wilbert could run round the train before pushing the 307 into the yard.
“Right! I’ve some work to do right now, but we’ve got an event going on later tonight, so stay sharp!” Wilbert called as he departed back up the line with a brakevan in tow.
The 307 almost called “go Packers!” back at him, before realizing it may be something only diesels said. He instead chose to sit quietly and compose his thoughts on everything he had experienced today, and everything that had happened before.
-
Some hours later, he had mentally “sorted” his jumbled thoughts into some semblance of order. And thus the next chapter of my life begins, He thought to himself. A forced move to the future, where steamers wear sunglasses, diesels are American, and British Rail is no more.
As he sat there, a few people began to arrive by car, and Wilbert steamed back in, a few men in suits riding in the brakevan.
“Hello!” Said one of the men, a stout gentleman in a top hat. “What might you be?”
“I don’t know anymore.” 307 said after a moment. The man raised an eyebrow in amusement, but before he could reply, the controller of the railway tapped him on the shoulder and introduced him to the railway’s volunteers.
A few minutes more, and the small group of people had been all introduced, so the railway’s controller stood in front of the closed doors of the workshop, directly in front of the 307. “All right, so we all know why we’re here, but I so rarely get to make public speeches…”
Light laughter ripped through the group.
“Yes yes, I know.” He smiled. “We are of course here to unveil the fruit of almost three years’ worth of labour, but thanks to the speediness of EWS, we can also introduce our newest piece of rolling stock as well! We’ve managed to acquire this class 307 at an absolutely knock-down price from BREL, or whatever it is that BREL is called nowadays,”
There was more laughter.
“And he will be serving as our newest coaching stock, both for Wilbur and our lady in waiting.” He paused dramatically. “And, as some of you may know, now that we have electric stock, one of our longer-term projects will be to acquire the catenary and electrical equipment required to run him on his own!”
Light applause followed, and then he continued. “Now, I know you’ve all heard me talk for long enough, so let’s get to the main attraction, shall we?”
From inside the workshop, a clatter erupted as a diesel engine coughed, spluttered, and eventually turned over. A cheer rose from inside the building, and a young man holding a boombox emerged from a side door. “We’re ready!”
“Then, without further ado, we would like to present our labours of the last three years - with no small amount of help from the Hatt Trust and the North Western Railway, the Dean Forest Railway is proud to present, for the first time in thirty years, D8404!”
The young man punched a button on the boombox, and music began to play. A strange ethereal sound that quickly transformed into guitar and drum.
I'm alive!
307 heard it barely, his hearing ringing with the last syllables.
And the world shines for me today
The roll-up garage door was thrown open from the inside, clattering upwards.
I'm alive!
A shape was visible through the haze of diesel exhaust
Suddenly I am here today
Seems like forever (and a day)
The exhaust plume increased, and the shape began to advance towards him.
Thought I could never (feel this way)
Is this really me? I'm alive! I’m alive!
The engine emerged into the sunshine. A pair of sunglasses hid the eyes, as Wilbert had said they would. The lips were moving in concert with the music, although they were not singing.
I'm alive!
Applause broke out from the crowd.
And the dawn breaks across the sky
His breath caught in his throat as he took in features he had not seen in decades.
I'm alive!
And the sun rises up so high
The music continued, but she stopped singing, jaw opening, seemingly in shock.
Lost in another world (far away)
Never another word ('til today)
But what can I say? I'm alive! I'm alive! I'm alive!
The sunglasses, on the same motorized hinges as Wilbert’s, rose up, revealing a pair of eyes that he saw only his dreams.
“It can’t be.” He said so quietly that only the stout gentleman standing next to him heard.
While the music still played, she no longer sang, and the men from the railway looked at her to see what was wrong.
“It’s him!” She said, in that same voice, one that spiked down into his very soul. “How is he here?”
The men looked at her, and then looked at him, and tried to puzzle out what she was saying.
It seemed like a fog of confusion was about to set down upon everyone, when the stout gentleman opened his mouth.
“Excuse me, but I feel as though we may have… inadvertently reunited some old friends.” He said magnanimously. “May we all retire to the station building? I seem to have noticed that the luncheon has already been set up.”
“Well, yes of course Charles, but, are you sure?” The controller of the railway asked as he was fairly pushed towards the station by the larger man.
“Yes, quite sure. Come along everyone!”
Within minutes, they were alone in the works yard - Wilbert had been pulled ahead out of sight, and even the boombox had been carried away.
He stared at her, tears welling up in his eyes. “I thought you were…”
“I was!” She said, equally emotional. “Or, I might as well have been. Should’ve been, after all I did.”
“It wasn’t you,” He said, trying to keep it together. “It was her.”
A tear dripped from her eye, falling to the sleepers below. “It takes two to tango, and I followed her every step.” More tears followed. “I thought I could put this all behind me! But I’m just a monster, dressed up in the skin of someone more deserving!”
She fully broke down in tears, and he did his best to comfort her. It was hard to do, being several meteres apart. Straining hard, he found his handbrake, which had been set tight against the slight downward slope of the tracks, and moved it until it was off.
Slowly, he rolled forward, until his buffers pressed against her own. She looked at him, shocked and startled.
“I lost you once.” He said, a sudden burning intensity roaring through him like fire. “I’m never doing that again.”
They were both crying,
They were both living
They were both here
They kissed, for the first time in decades.
They were both lovers.
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Unseen, in their ethereal and incomprehensible way, the Angel and the Demon watched the two lovers embrace.
That’s a hell of a thing to do for them. The Demon said, admiration coloring its voice. Think they’ll make the most of it?
I do. The Angel smiled. I think they’re going to be just fine.
End
