The Railway After Series #1: American Night Train (OLD)

James and Casey

The visiting engine arrived at the dock by sundown. Men scrambled, preparing hooks to be attached to her. The cranes creaked and groaned before the heavy engine was raised, Controller supervising in the background. She woke up, groaning heavily as she was carefully put onto track. 
"Uuuuuuaaaagh . . . My wheels ache; I should've been oiled." She said tiredly. Topham chuckled, "We'll get that settled big girl. Now you just go to the sheds with Edward, your first job is tomorrow night." The old blue engine rolled up, happily greeting her, "Hullo! Welcome. Follow me when you’re ready, okay miss?" That night, after she got up to steam and oiled she followed Edward carefully to the sheds.

When they arrived at the sheds, she realized she could only fit inside without her tender attached.
Edward sat in the next berth and giggled, "Too small for an American? I can fit quite well, young lady." She sat speechless without a response and Edward smiled. "You're fine, miss. I'm only teasing. Did he tell you about us being cheeky?" "No. Why?" "Well young lady, here's some advice: We all often tease so try and get used to it. Secretly, it's number one, three, and five who are the worst; especially five. This should help you." "Oh. . . Thank you." "Of course. Now, if you ever need help, I'll do what I can. I hope you like it here." The visiting engine was shocked with the welcoming tone from Edward. She stood silent, he understood.

By next nightfall Casey sat at full steam and Edward helped pull her tender out for her.
She waited before a red engine slowly came up, "What is that?" He said, feeling extra cheeky that night. "The new American engine, Casey, do leave her be James, she's busy." James looked at her from cow catcher to funnel, "But she's got oil cans on her face. Did they accidently weld them on while making her?" "James." "She looks like her face is cramping! We should help her." She now sat very impatient, just wanting to leave. "She was made this way for a reason," Edward replied, sternly. "Is that so? And what would that be?" ". . . To pull heavy stuff. What you clearly can't do." James went somehow even more red than usual but Edward smiled. "I- How- How dare you," James replied. Casey laughed heavily, "Poor little James! Edward is right, you are cheeky but you are bad at comebacks as your paint is red." They both giggled. Edward backed up, her tender ready and she turned on the table to connect. She soon left hastily so she didn't have to hear James burst his safety valve trying to respond. "Sorry James but maybe you should ask who she is instead of insulting her, she seems quite nice." "Nice? You and her insulted me!," James whined. "And you insulted her too." James got onto the turntable and rolled up next to Edward. "Whatever. What do you even mean after all?" "You are supposed to work around her aren't you? Why not ask how she got here?" "By ship." Edward huffed, "Don't be so absent minded. You judge her on nothing, you don't even know her." "Her name is Casey." "And?" James pondered but came up empty handed, "I don't know." "Then, ask her tomorrow. Night, James." As Edward fell asleep, James thought, then fell asleep as well ". . . Night, Edward."

Early morning, James woke up from a bell ringing and an engine backing up next to him. They were alone in the shed.
"What's with the noise- Oh! . . . It's you." Casey looked down at the red engine, "Is that a bad thing?" Edward came to James mind, "Well- Not exactly. I just have a question," James went on shyly. "Oh? What is it?" "Who are you?" "I'm Casey, you should know-" "No I'm asking who are you." Casey sat confused, "Do you mean?" "Yes." "I'm a H6 Mallet. I did passenger service." "And?" "I do sometimes miss heavy freight, but your controller inviting me helped." She paused, "I'm curious. What is your history, James?" "I was painted black once and crashed on my first day; I feel too embarrassed to tell the rest but I now do mixed work." Casey grinned, "You seem odd when talking about yourself. . ." "Can I hear your history now? It's only fair, kind of." Asked James quite queerly. "Well, of course, silly. Listen up James. Now where to begin . . ."

"I was made in Baldwin locomotive works, I was the last steam engine they've ever made, at least I think." "That's truly an honor." "Not so much an honor, after that they've made mistake after mistake. It was quite saddening to see my builder go under. The only way I found out was by overhearing a 'railfan' talk about it." "How sad," James sympathized. "Yes. I was made in 1949 to pull heavy coal trains. I had nine sisters and now I only have one, her number is 1308." "Reminds me of Gordon. His famous brother Scottsman visited once." "Is that so? How nice, you'll have to tell me some day. Furthering on, I always enjoyed my work but I despised wash downs. I often fussed and swore at the cleaning crew. One day, a new washman came in and was a bit rough on my body. He then went to scrub my face by hand and . . ." "-And what?" "I bit him right on it!" "Ouch!" "He even had to get his hand wrapped and I didn't see him for the rest of the day, he probably went back to his shed. He forgave me eventually but that's a later story."

"When my running years were coming to a close, I heard about the concept of scrap, a terrifying process. I was told I would be scrapped; I was shunted into a shed alone . . . Stuff piled against the walls, and some scrap was put on assorted racks, I had no idea if it was 1300 to 1307. I was scared but I got more terrified when I heard loud rumbling purrs outside, my body quaked in fear but . . ." "-But what?" "Later." "Why? Continue on." "There's more to this story for later, you have to go now, little James." Without James even noticing, his driver and fireman were in his cab readying him up. "Oh! Guess I do. I'll be seeing you, Casey." "Surely." Soon James was prepared and peeped a kind farewell to her before going to work. 

As the day went on, he slowly felt more and more pressure as he remembered teasing Casey before. Midway on his work, he stopped at the next station for a drink.
Concerned, he asked his driver, "Is my pressure okay? I feel tight." His driver checked and reassured him "Of course. Gauge is good as usual." "Are you sure?" "Of course I am, what is the matter with you, James?" "I think I’ve done something terrible." His driver grinned and stepped down to his face, "It's odd for you to admit something for once, James." "I am not- Okay, I am admitting something." "I think I know what is on your mind, I heard you talk to her rudely the other day. I'll let you figure it out yourself." "How am I possibly going to figure it out myself?" "Do what you think is right." "What I think is right? What do I think is right?" James thought to himself.

When he finished his last Job, he rolled into the sheds and his driver left with the fireman hastily. Casey sat there with her eyes closed, her fire was out, so he thought she was asleep.
"Casey? I know you are asleep, but . . . I feel awful for being rude to you before. I know this may mean nothing, especially with you asleep, but I am truly sorry. I hope you don't hear me like this." Casey suddenly grinned and opened her eyes. James got a major shock. "Y- You're awake!" He stuttered, embarrassed. "Yes. Now, why did you not want me to hear that, little James?" Him, speechless, shut his eyes and pretended to have fallen asleep. "James, you're ridiculous," She chuckled softly. "You must be hearing things!" Said James, jokingly, as he kept his eyes closed. "Thank you, James." "What for?" James peeked. Casey smiled, "You should know why." James soon smiled. "It's starting to snow, James, I can see it in the window." "Guess that's the weather telling me to go to bed, I have to wear a snow plow tomorrow. Goodnight, Casey." James shut his eyes for one final time and Casey sat, watching the snow. "Night."